#he demolished the whole kitchen
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Mark in TDA when he took care of the kids
#you all know which scene I‘m talking about#he demolished the whole kitchen#but hey#he gave his best#cassandra clare#mark blackthorn#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#christina rosales#ty blackthorn#dru blackthorn#tda#the dark artifices#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles
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Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part One
Part Two
PART THREE
"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."
"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"
"Yeah, like a series."
"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"
"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"
"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."
Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.
"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"
"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"
"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.
Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"
"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."
Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.
Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'
And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.
There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.
"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."
Steve's heart fucking melts.
Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.
"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"
"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."
"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"
"Yeah. Still not my thing-"
"Oh."
"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."
"...yeah?"
"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."
"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"
"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."
"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.
"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."
"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.
"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."
"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."
"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."
"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."
And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.
@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao
@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch
#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#steddie#my fic writing#fan fic stuff#fic wip#ficlet#rock star eddie munson#baker steve harrington#dungeons and dragons
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Moonlight (pt 1)
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x y/n
A story where a boy who is terrified of love lays his eyes on a girl who's determined to save everyone else, but herself.
prologue, pt2
Warnings: language, death of a loved one
_______________
“As long as the moonlight shines, you're not unseen or unknown. You are just as important as the moonlight and as long as you shine, you'll never not be enough” I repeated to myself as I gathered my books and put them in my school bag with shaky hands. I have found myself repeating that exact phrase over and over again for the past few months, hoping it would bring me some kind of solace. Well, it didn’t, but I just couldn’t stop myself from doing so. It was the last thing I had from him.
First days of school always made me anxious, however, this one specifically was totally different from the rest of them. I felt as if my whole life had been demolished and reconstructed within 6 months. Actually, that would be a lie; it wasn’t reconstructed at all, I just pretended that it was. There were still obvious pieces of my shattered heart around, pieces of myself that were left behind at home, pieces of myself that died with him the night he did. I felt as lost as ever, as empty as ever. I didn’t know how to move on. Shit, I haven’t even processed the fact that he’s not here anymore. I didn't think I could feel safe again, happy again. Genuinely happy.
I stared at my new, blank, almost empty bedroom and sighed deeply with a heavy, hollow heart; a feeling that had been living in the empty rooms of the beating organ that kept me alive for months, rooms where they were once filled with laughter and joy. I didn’t feel like I could be strong anymore. I didn’t feel like I was someone. No, y/n. Remember.
“As long as the moonlight shines, you're not unseen or unknown. You are just as important as the moonlight and as long as you shine, you'll never not be enough” his voice echoed through my head. I shook my thoughts away and finally grabbed my bag and headed towards the kitchen where my mom was. I had to be okay.
“This is how you’re going to school?” she judged while her criticising glare scanned me from head to toe. It hurt, but she wasn’t completely wrong; I had no makeup on, didn’t even attempt to style my hair or find a cute outfit to wear like I would normally do, having always wanted to make a good first impression. I couldn’t bring myself to care this time. I just threw one of my brother’s old hoodies and a pair of leggings, my dark circles and tired eyes being the only accessories.
“Yes,” I bluntly replied and went to grab an apple for lunch before leaving. I didn't want to deal with her at the time because if I did, I would corrupt into tears right then and there. In front of her. Embarrassing.
The moment my feet stepped out of my door, I put my headphones on and started blasting music from my phone. I’d rather be consumed by that than my own thoughts. Not that I didn’t like music. In fact, it has been my pharmacy and my escape from reality these months and one of the things I’ve been passionate about my entire life. It’s just that I had lost interest in it for a while.
School wasn’t that far away from my house, only 10 minutes by foot. Yet, the walk there felt like an eternity. At least it was a pretty walk. The birds were already singing, the bees were already searching for pollen in the already bloomed flowers and the aroma of wet grass could be smelled. Even though spring wasn’t my favourite season, there were some elements of it that were truly beautiful, just like everything else in life. Even the things you don’t really like can be beautiful, you just have to accept the fact that they have that potential.
I faked a smile. I had to be strong. I had to be okay.
“Everything is okay. You're okay,” I whispered as I reached the corridors of the school. I took a deep breath and finally stepped in after a moment or two of hesitation.
There were already kids in every corner of the school. Some were on their phones, some with their friends and some already making out with their partner.
‘It’s 7 in the morning,’ I thought to myself with disgust and went to look for my locker. I ended up doing circles around the same corner of the building.
234. 234. 234.
Where the fuck is that goddamn locker?
I probably have seemed like a creep or a weirdo as I was looking for it, because a lot of eyes were on me and a few giggles could be heard from, what I assumed to be, the popular kids. My heart tightened at the realisation, but I still shot them a smile. Not a sorry one or an awkward one. A nice, genuine smile. Soon later, the chattering stopped. Before I could continue my search, a voice was heard right next to me.
“Do you need any help?” a guy from my right asked and I jumped.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, you just looked very lost,” he chuckled at my reaction. I placed my hand on my chest, trying to calm my breath and heart beat down while chuckling faintly with him.
“Do you do that often?” I sighed and looked up at him. His eyes were pretty, a shade of brown I had never seen before. A golden brown, just like honey.
“I guess you’ll have to find out,” he shrugged and I hummed. We just looked at each other for a few moments before I spoke again.
“I actually do need some help, I’m looking for my locker. It’s 234,” I said, shyly.
“Oh, so we’re neighbours!” he beamed and motioned me to come with him. He was nice.
“I’m 232,” he added and looked down at me. I smiled.
Our lockers were just down the hallway, a spare one the only thing that separated them from each other’s.
“I'll see you around often, then” I joked while trying to unlock it and failing miserably. I couldn't make myself seem more of a fool than at that moment.
“Here,” he giggled, “let me do it,” the boy reached his hand towards the little piece of paper I held that had written down the code.
“I'm Austin, by the way” he smiled and unlocked the locker for me.
“I'm y/n,” I grinned back at him. “Thanks for the locker,” I tilted my head towards it and reached for the books in my bag to place them inside. He kept looking at me and stayed with me, even though his friends were calling out for him from around the corner.
We kept talking for a while until the bell rang. That was when anxiety washed all over me. I'd rather go back home than get inside a class with other teenage people I didn't even know and who'd probably be judging me just from my appearance. I didn't even know where the classroom was.
“I'm sorry but, could you show me where Mrs Whitley teaches? I'll probably get lost if I go on my own,” I shyly asked him, already feeling like a burden to him.
“It’s the class right there,” he pointed his finger to the door right across from where we were. I thanked him and quickly got on my feet. The last thing I wanted was to be late.
Austin was a nice kid. He seemed kind, and rich, something I definitely wasn’t. I felt small in front of him, almost like an ant that was met with a boot, but his soft features eased my nerves. Plus, I needed friends, even though socialising was the last thing I wanted to do. I honestly didn’t even feel like talking or even existing. But, that’s just how life is; you got to get over shit, shallow it, bury it six feet under the ground and keep the show going.
When I reached the classroom, cold sweat gathered on my forehead. Too many kids. Way too many. Too pretty, too rich, too not me. I was intimidated. I felt my breath hitch as I scanned for any empty seats. My shoulders relaxed when I found one next to a boy that wasn’t like the rest. He wasn’t surrounded by other people or talking loudly. He was instead focused on something under the desk, his eyebrows furrowed and tongue slightly sticking out in concentration with messy, brown hair plastered all over his forehead. Maybe he wouldn’t mind.
“Is the seat taken?” I approached him and his head immediately turned towards me. He just looked at me startled, his eyes darting to my features and clothes. He didn’t say anything. Small. I felt small again.
“I- I guess I’ll sit somewhere else, sorry” I sheepishly apologised with my gaze on the floor, too embarrassed to even look at him. I was about to walk away when I heard the screech of the chair. I turned my head to him, seeing him having pulled out the chair for me and having returned his attention to whatever he was doing before I interrupted him. I sighed in relief and placed my bag on the floor before sitting next to him.
“Thanks,” I whispered, “I’m y/n,” I smiled at him.
“And why would I care?” he harshly replied, making my jaw drop.
“O-Oh I just- I thought you might want to know,” I innocently said. Okay. Not as different as the others, it seems.
“Well, I don’t. This isn’t kindergarten, sweetheart. No one’s friends with anyone here, grow up,” he chuckled at my cluelessness, his eyes never meeting mine. I just shook my head.
“I was just being nice,” I mumbled, my fake confidence slowly disappearing.
“Go somewhere else to be nice to ‘cause it ain’t working on me, angel” he cocked with a smirk. I just stared at him with an open mouth.
Before I could reply to that, the teacher entered the class, making the whole class stop talking. I knew what was coming and I wanted to crawl up into a ball and pretend like I wasn’t there.
“So, where’s our new student? Come on honey, we don’t bite!” she looked around the room, trying to decipher a new face.
‘You may not, but he might’ I thought to myself, talking about the boy that was sitting next to me. I chuckled at my thought.
I hesitantly raised my hand and breathed in deeply.
“There you are! What’s your name, sweetie?”
“It’s uh,” I trailed off and saw a couple of heads turning towards my direction, “It’s y/n y/l/n.”
“And what brings you to Somerville, y/n?”
‘My brother died,’ I almost blurted out, but thankfully caught myself before doing so. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. I didn’t want people to pay attention to me and my problems. I didn’t want the attention. I didn’t need any of it.
“My mom found a good job here, so we moved out from Long Island,” I lied. I hated lying. I hated liars. But I’d rather lie about that than have people feel bad for me.
The teacher went on talking about my home place, telling me random facts about it that I didn’t care about. I just nodded at whatever she was saying just to not come off as rude and disrespectful. I wasn’t listening. I was just acting like I was.
What was the point of any of this? School is shit, high school even more so. I didn't even have any plans for college or my future in general so, why was I even going through this? Nothing fucking mattered.
“Made friends with our photographer, I see” she suddenly commented, making me snap out of my thoughts. I felt the boy next to me stiffen at that. “Matthew right there has been making our yearbooks this whole time, isn’t that right?” I turned to look at him with a surprised expression. My eyes darted down to his hands that were still under the desk, which were holding a digital camera. I was surprised. And intrigued.
“Yeah,” he breathed and shot an almost insulting glare at the so sweet teacher, before lowering his gaze once again at his gadget. I almost slapped him across the face for that. I felt bad for her.
----------
The day was miserable. I was exhausted. The whole masking-my-feelings thing made me ill, both mentally and physically. I felt like throwing up. I didn’t know why, though. Maybe because I haven’t eaten properly in weeks, or maybe from my visible exhaustion. Whatever it was, I felt sick.
I sat alone at lunch, looking soullessly at the apple in front of me before I pulled out my notebook. I could hear my stomach rumble from hunger, but I knew that if I actually ate the fruit, I would actually throw up. And that was something I really didn’t want to do. As I started writing on it, I took a glimpse at the cafeteria, observing how other kids laughed and smiled with their company. I smiled too. I loved seeing people happy. Maybe I could experience it as well one day again. But, who on earth would want to willingly spend their time with me? No one. Not even my own mother does.
A clicking sound startled me. I looked towards it, seeing Matthew nearby, with his camera again in his hands. He stared blankly at me, seeing that I had heard him taking a photograph of something. I looked behind me, seeing what that something could be. I sighed at myself. There was a gorgeous, blonde girl who had a smile that radiated so much warmth and love that I almost felt close to tears. She was breathtaking. The complete opposite of whatever the fuck I was. I turned my head back towards him, him still being in the same exact place, with his eyes stuck on me. I gave him a soft, sad smile, and continued writing and scribbling on my notebook.
“So you're a nerd too?” Matthew suddenly asks me.
“Uh, no, I don't think so,” I kindly said.
“Well, you look like one,” he laughed. I just looked at him blankly.
“There's nothing wrong with that,” I simply replied and went back into my sketching. He just stood there, looking at me.
“Anything else?” I asked, slightly irritated at his constant, unapologetic staring.
“Well, I think-”
“Y/n!” Austin greeted from behind Matthew. I smiled at him, mentally thanking him from saving me from Matthew's presence.
“Hi, how was class?” I asked with a soft voice. “Boring as fuck, I almost fall asleep,” he faked a yawn, “You got anyone to sit with? You can come to our table, if you want to,” he added.
I shot a glare at Matthew who was observing the whole interaction, not having interfered once.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I happily accepted and gathered my stuff before going to sit with them.
------//------
tag list: @h3arts4harry @iluvmattyb @alorsxsturn @junnniiieee07 @buenolover @frankdelrayy
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo edit#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#nick sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets smut#the sturniolo triplets
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𝙄ñ𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙚𝙢 | 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 <3
[P💕: i crave bro]
[Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more !]
Shenanigans
☆ Iñaki can definitely be troublesome if he's bored. I'm talking face/body paint cosplays, hiding your things, pranking you with his perfect acting skills type of trouble
• its truly hilarious and a bit concerning to catch him with his whole face green and a dinosaur stuffed hat clipped around his head
☆ "ki.." he has his back to you and stares at the walls like there much more important
• will scream over games in his phone, for instance if iñaki runs out of time and fails a challenge you can here him crying out from the bathroom
☆ he suggests the craziest things on tiktok and you are a sucker for a good time despite you both hating to clean up behind yourselves. You have an eighteen minute long video of you both slipping on the soapy kitchen floor btw ;p
• iñaki often walks around your apartment a bit weirdly so he's bound to stub a toe or bump his shoulder into the edge of the wall, always cursing in Spanish which makes you burst into laughter
☆ you both truly are unfiltered around eachother and hes feels so lucky that he got two for one, (you're not only his best friend but your his girlfriend too.) Iñaki thinks that's epic
• skating time is sublime.
• "you– geezer, just hold onto me?" You laughed as Iñaki rolled around the skating ring like an elder on life support, he obliged but that cost you with the way he gripped your hands.
☆ "Damn, kiki!"
• "Slow down!!" He wobbled.
☆ "We not going no damn where!"
• on the court he will demolish you. Iñaki's always in your face, running around you as he dribbles the ball and shoots, it hits the rim sometimes
☆ "you're ass.." you kick some pebbles as he jogs for his rebound and runs back to you with a grin. Sweat beading at his forehead and wetting the roots of his curls.
• "oh? well then you make the hoop" you both are nearly the same height but he's still slightly taller. (He looks scrumptious in loose tanktops fyi) The basketball is pushed to you as you roll your eyes and take it. Iñaki situates beside you and watches you move forward but hands on your hips pull you back.
☆ "Do it from here." You got ready to argue but just huffed and dribbled the ball once to make sure it was hard enough and not flat. Your dominant arm bended and launched the ball for the edge of the square. It rolled around the rim but fell off and Iñaki suppressed a laugh.
• he talks so fast in English and Spanish that you often tell him to slow down. He laughs at that because he's still getting used to someone truly listening instead of talking over him
☆ iñaki flexes his facial hair and that often gains your attention so he ends up getting his mustache and sideburns cleaned up while you're on his lap
• "please amor, don't cut it too much."
☆ "shh shh, look?" You raised the mirror and when he saw the results iñaki felt ten times more flashier and he thanked you with a big kiss of course
• bro looses his marbles when he can't find his glasses and you love to watch him suffer as he looks everywhere while their RIGHT ONTOP OF HIS HEAD.
The sweet things
☆ he needs to have you by his side but doesn't like to really admit it so when you're doing something or simply lounging around he'll come to you like puppy and lean on you, or play with/link your hands
• iñaki bites and asks before hand too lol
☆ teaches you his first language and loves how you have your way of pronouncing certain words, he also praises you and says you sound like a natural after correctly saying a sentence
• love love lovesss your cheek kisses since your lips are already plump and soft. Fall is here and it tends to get chilly so iñaki jokingly asks you to prescribe him with some so he doesn't freeze to death
☆ let's you play in his hair especially when it grows out, you put it in ponytails, side cornrows and twists until he's snoring against you
• iñaki doesn't have a foot fetish but will massages your feet when their sore. He's the best at it, courtesy of the practice with his mother
☆ since you love vinyls and CD's he brings you shopping with him at special stores that sell hand me downs, movie cds or song records
• you both enjoy a good thrifting spree!
☆ picnic dates are sweet but getting something to eat downtown and exploring the lower city makes you feel like jasmine and iñaki is obviously your aladdin <3
• "should we jay walk?" You look at the currently empty street as iñaki's hand is gripped in yours, his eyes keep flickering down both ends of the street before he suddenly tugs you across with him
☆ "Vamanos, vamanos!" You snort and run across as you both eventually make it to the car.
• he often asks you why you fell in love with him and you're always ready to provide an answer.
☆ "You have this weird charm that I'm drawn to.. plus you were kinda mysterious with the way you used to sta-"
• "okay okay I get it!"
☆ "Nah you used to stare into my soul remember?"
• Iñaki felt incredibly shy around you, he still does now that you're both together he just knows how to hide it now ;)
☆ matching charm bracelets and rings. 😭
• he's the pure embodiment of "just happy to be there!"
☆ will always polish the hand you can't do
THE END ♡
[A/N: I AM SATISFIED.]
#iñaki godoy#iñaki godoy x black fem#iñaki godoy x fem#iñaki headcanons#monkey d. luffy#juan ruiz#one piece live action x reader#opla luffy x fem#opla luffy x black fem#juan ruiz fic#juan ruiz the imperfects#juan ruiz x black fem#juan ruiz x fem#KIKIIII
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THIRTY-FIVE | S04 E03 — A Thousand Times Over
Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader
Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut
Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.
(A/N — Hello! Did you miss me? lol)
•••
You can’t believe it. Is this really happening? Are you really hosting dinner at home? You, who messed up something as simple as miyeokguk, are hosting dinner at home?
You don’t know where you got the guts from, but it’s definitely the result of another successful production, and Jungkook telling your close friends that dinner will be at yours over the weekend. By the time everyone has stopped cheering and exchanging high-fives, you have already agreed, smiling at them from ear to ear.
Jungkook helped you with the groceries the night before, and showed up at your doorstep bright and early this morning to get all the preparations done.
“Bun, it’s 7 am. Why are we doing this?” You whined while peeling a skinny piece of carrot, being careful not to peel your skin off in the process. You were sitting on a barstool, hunched over the kitchen island, only 80% awake. While your boyfriend moves around the kitchen confidently, mixing random spices and sauces for the marinade, and trimming the meat.
“We need to prepare everything now, so all the cooking will be easier later~” he answered in a singsong manner, turning around and busting out a move while humming to a song you don’t know. You can’t help but chuckle at what’s in front of you— your boyfriend in gray sweats and an oversized shirt, sleeves long enough that he was able to pull it down his hand and use it to handle a hot lid off the pot. He looks so soft and cozy, you almost want to leap off the stool and give him some cuddles.
“What are we making anyway?” You asked with curiosity, eyeing the vegetables and a piece of apple lined up in front of your “chopping line.”
“Suyuk and soondae gukbap. I need to start boiling the broth for the gukbap now, so it will be yummy tonight.” He nibbled on his bottom lip, doe eyes giving all the ingredients on the counter a once-over. “The rest— like the dakgalbi and samgyeopsal will be cooked over dinner, and everyone can participate.”
“Oooh. Is that something that a real chef would do?”
“I don’t know, I’m not one,” he grinned at you, nose all scrunching up as the grin turned into a giggle.
Two hours later, Jungkook has already marinated the chicken, dry-brined the slab of pork belly in the fridge, and got the bone broth simmering on the stove top. You, on the other hand, have organized all the chopped vegetables in ziploc bags, and tidied up the kitchen, making sure that everything is clean and ready to use for all the cooking later.
•••
The dinner party went well. Jungkook’s suyuk was a hit, to the point that he had to make another batch while everyone’s already crowding around the kitchen.
“Yah, Jungkook, you are insane!” Hoseok muttered between chewing. “This is so good, yah…” he gushed, picking his chopsticks back up and hugging another piece of pork with gat kimchi before stuffing his face with it.
“How did you make it?” Namjoon, also in awe of the taste, asked in curiosity. Deep down knowing that he won’t ever be able to even set foot in the kitchen to recreate it.
“I just followed the recipe!”
“Anyone up for some drinks?” Sohyun’s question worked everyone’s appetite even further up, and the food was demolished in no time.
“We should do this more often, it’s nice,” you told no one in particular. Yoongi agreed, topping up your glass. “Oh, thank you.”
“You did well, babe,” Jungkook slinked his arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your temple.
“I didn’t even cook!” You replied, flustered.
“Aye, you chopped all the vegetables. You did all the hard work,” Mingyu quipped. “Cooking is just putting it all together.
“You cleaned up too, YN. That’s crucial,” Hoseok added.
“Take the compliment, YN,” Namjoon snickered. “Remember when we went camping way back and I nicked my finger trying to peel a tiny potato? I am useless!”
Yoongi burst out laughing at the memory, “You had one job, dude. ONE JOB.”
The evening continued with more banter, stories, and laughter until Yoongi and Mingyu started a drinking game incorporated with a balance game. Two people will be asked to pick between two choices. If they match, they win. If they don’t, they take a shot. Hoseok and Sohyun have been winning back to back, so Yoongi decided to switch up the questions, zeroing in on you.
“I got a good one for you, YN…” Yoongi smirked.
“Okay…” You answered cautiously.
With a devilish grin and sharp eyes fleeting between you and Jungkook, Yoongi asked, “Would you rather kiss Jungkook for ten thousand won, or kiss a stranger for ten million won?”
Jungkook’s jaw dropped, “Yah, hyuuung…” Noticing your pause, he turned his head from Yoongi to you so fast, he could have had a whiplash, “Yah… is there something to think about?”
“Did the stranger brush his teeth?” You asked.
Jungkook gasped. “Why does it matter?” He asked you incredulously.
“Hmm… Let’s say, yes. He’s clean. Hygienic,” Yoongi nodded.
“Clean CLEAN? Like he goes to a dental hygienist clean?” You continued coaxing Yoongi for answers, completely ignoring Jungkook’s dagger eyes on the side of your face.
“Yeah, he regularly goes to the dentist and flosses three times a day,” Mingyu answered, almost toppling over his seat from laughing so hard at his bestfriend’s reaction.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook picked up a piece of grape and threw it at Mingyu.
“Umm–”
You were cut off by Jungkook suddenly standing up from his seat to fish a crisp green banknote from his wallet and slamming it down on the table in front of you. “Baby, here’s ten thousand won, let’s go. Kiss me.” His facial expression, a mixture of amusement and drudgery.
The room erupted in laughter, with Hoseok literally falling on the floor and smacking Namjoon’s legs over and over trying to contain himself. “Aigoo, Jungkook-ah…”
“Can you give me ten million won?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.
“Can you give me one thousand kisses?” He challenged back.
“Yah, yah, yah…” Namjoon waved his hands at everyone. “Let’s skip this question, we don’t want to be the cause of your breakup!” He suggested playfully, still half-wheezing from laughing.
The game continued on, putting a different person on the spot, until everyone sobered up and have gotten ready to leave. Jungkook decided to stay the night, given it’s already almost midnight, and tomorrow is Sunday.
You were standing in the doorway of your house, waving Mingyu off when Jungkook nudged you on the side, “Check your phone.”
“Huh?” You leaned onto the doorframe, fishing your phone out of your pocket. Your eyes widen in surprise when you saw the notification, before staring back at a smugly smiling Jungkook. “What the fuck is this, Jeon?! Where did you get this? You’re crazy!”
“Oh, I’m Jeon again?” He snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “Here and there. Work. Stocks.” His voice dangerously low and goosebump-inducing.
You instantly melted at your boyfriend’s touch, “Babe… You’re overre—“ Jungkook shut you up by capturing your bottom lip with his soft ones.
“One,” he whispered.
“Jungkook,” His name came out of your mouth in a breathy voice as your fingers curled on the collar of his jacket.
He pressed two more kisses on your lips, one after the other. “Three.”
“What…?”
Jungkook swiftly shifted your body away from the door, kicking it shut in the process, before lifting you over his shoulder and making you squeal.
“Let’s get you to bed. I’m cashing in the remaining nine hundred ninety-seven.”
•••
BONUS — The notification:
#bangtansmauyeondan#bts imagines#35!jungkook#35!jk#jungkook fan fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook angst
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Fractured
Summary:
“I—I don’t—” Danny hesitated. “I don’t remember.”
Tucker and Sam exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. Tucker asked carefully, “What don’t you remember?”
“Anything! We were in the kitchen, fighting the Lunch Lady, Sam called out to me because the ghost threw a chunk of meat and then… Then we were here.”
OR
Danny can’t remember anything that happens while he’s Phantom and it’s starting to catch up to him.
Words: 3 377
You can read the whole thing on AO3.
This is inspired by a holiday truce prompt from @ectospacecadet! They just had too many good ideas that my brain latched onto for the gift exchange!
-
“Danny! You’re back!” Sam sounded half-way to hysterical and Danny blinked open his eyes in confusion.
Tucker immediately grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”
“…What?” Danny blinked and sat up. He looked round the lab and took in the sight of his panicking friends, the smell of smoke, and the swirling portal in front of them. “It turned on?”
“What do you mean it turned on?!” Tucker exclaimed, still gripping his shoulders too hard. “You turned it on!”
Danny frowned. “I did?”
He looked down on his aching hand, surprised at seeing the burn covering his palm. Well, that would explain the pain he felt through his whole body.
He had a vague memory of going into the portal and falling, and then… nothing. He had no idea how he had ended up on the other side of the lab.
“Yeah!” Tucker nodded. “And then you turned into a ghost and—”
Danny snapped his head up. “I turned into what?!”
“A ghost…?” Tucker trailed off.
“No I didn’t?
Sam and Tucker exchanged a look. Sam crouched down in front of him. “Danny? What do you remember?”
Danny frowned. “I walked into the portal. I think I stumbled on something, and then I fell, and then… I woke up here?” He hadn’t intended to make it a question, but he couldn’t help it. What was going on?
“You…” Sam trailed off, hesitating. “You came out of the portal though? As a ghost?”
Tucker nodded. “Yeah, you were all glowy and stuff.”
“What?” Danny frowned, looking down at his decidedly non-glowing hands. “No?”
Tucker let go of his shoulders. “You don’t remember?”
Danny shook his head.
Sam tilted her head as she studied Danny. “So you mean you don’t remember anything that happened while you were a ghost?”
“I’m not a ghost!”
“You were though,” Tucker insisted.
Sam frowned. “But we talked with you! You were… normal.”
Danny didn’t know what to say to that. Tucker shook his head. “I’m sure it’s just the shock.”
“Yeah,” Danny agreed without believing it. “Probably.”
—
It wasn’t just the shock.
During the following days he experienced several unexpected side-effects of his forgotten stunt in the ghost portal . Like falling through the floor. Dropping stuff. Turning invisible. Flying.
Which were apparently things that ghosts could do. Because he had ghost powers now.
Because he had died.
Danny’s crisis had barely started before he had to push it all down to deal with later because of a ghost attack. Apparently he hadn’t been the only ghost coming out of the newly opened portal and this one was pissed that they had changed the lunch menu.
Danny, Sam, and Tucker ducked flying sausages and waves of unidentifiable meats while they tried to come up with a solution that would make sure they left the school alive.
Danny ducked what looked like a steak morphed with a rack of ribs and swore as it absolutely demolished the table behind him.
“Danny!” Sam called out from behind him, “Watch out!”
Danny turned towards the ghost, saw the big chunk of dripping meat hurling right for his head, and instinctively pulled on the coldness in his chest and—
And blinked as he was suddenly outside the school. His arm ached.
Danny looked around with wide eyes and saw Sam and Tucker standing next to him, talking about something he couldn’t completely follow. Both of them were banged up with bruises and scabs and Danny couldn’t remember anything that had happened.
He looked down at his left arm as he took in the wound he didn’t remember getting. Danny cast around for the Lunch Lady, but he couldn’t see her anywhere, so instead he turned to his friends with a slightly strangled, “What happened?”
Tucker frowned at him. “What?”
“Where is the Lunch Lady? Are you okay? How did we end up out here?!” Danny asked with an increasing level of panic in his voice. Why couldn’t he remember anything?
Sam joined in with Tucker’s frowning. “…Danny, are you okay?”
Was he?
“I—I don’t—” Danny hesitated. “I don’t remember.”
Tucker and Sam exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. Tucker asked carefully, “What don’t you remember?”
“Anything! We were in the kitchen, fighting the Lunch Lady, Sam called out to me because the ghost threw a chunk of meat and then… Then we were here.”
Tucker blinked as his frown deepened. “Man. You turned into a ghost again and fought her!”
“I… did?”
Sam jumped in. “Yeah! All glowing and stuff.”
Tucker placed a hand on his arm. “We thought you were fine! You seemed completely fine!”
“You mean I remembered everything?” Danny wrung his hands. The wound he didn’t remember getting ached. “When I was a… ghost?”
Tucker nodded. “Yeah!”
“But then why can't I…”
“I'm sure it'll be fine,” Sam said in what Danny was sure she thought was a comforting tone of voice. It didn’t help much. “It might just be a slight hiccup? Or maybe you hit your head?”
He didn't know what kind of hiccup could erase your memory so completely, but he nodded anyway. Instead he carefully asked, “Did I… Do something weird?”
Sam tilted her head. “Weird? What do you mean?”
“When I fought the Lunch Lady. Was I… Was I acting like myself?”
Sam laughed. “Who else would you be acting like?”
“Yeah man,” Tucker agreed and punched Danny lightly in the arm. Right on his new wound. “Just because you look strange doesn’t mean that you are, you know?”
Danny didn’t know.
—
It didn't go away. If anything, it got worse. With more and more ghosts showing up through the portal he found that he more often than not needed to turn into one himself to fight them off.
Besides, every time a ghost showed up he felt this intense need to pull on the new cold residing deep in his chest, and afterwards he could never remember what happened.
It was just. Completely blank.
Apparently Phantom was just like him. Same memories, same mannerisms, same way of being. Except that he was very much dead.
Sam and Tucker had tried to find out more by talking to him and apparently he didn't have the same issues of not remembering things as Danny had. Apparently being dead meant that you remembered everything just fine, whether from when you were alive or dead. Go figure.
He knew he shouldn’t talk about him as a separate person, since apparently they were the same person, but it didn’t feel like it.
It felt like someone was taking his place.
“Maybe it’s like... A translation error? When you change from ghost to human?” Sam mused while they were walking home from school.
Tucker perked up. “Like a hard drive that’s not compatible with your system!”
Danny cast him an annoyed look. “I’m not a computer.”
Tucker wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “And I mourn that fact every day.”
“This is serious!” Danny crossed his arms. They might be able to joke about this, but it wasn’t—It wasn’t funny. Not to him.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t kidding. Maybe there’s just something inherently different between how the living and dead think. The dead seem to be able to remember their life as humans, but maybe the same isn’t true when you go the other way.”
Danny let his crossed arms drop back down to his sides. “Maybe… But then what can I—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before they were interrupted by a laughing, glowing, flying, and burning robot ghost blasting through the wall of a building in front of them. “I’ll get you this time, whelp!” And he was pointing right at Danny.
Danny froze. “Who is that?!”
“What do you mean who is that?!” Sam exclaimed as she dove for cover. “It's Skulker! The ghost we fought last week, don't you reme—” Sam cut herself off.
“No, I don't,” Danny bit out.
“No time right now!” Tucker screamed as he joined her behind the bench. “Less talking, more fighting!”
And he turned to look at Danny. Danny, who was still standing frozen in the middle of the street. The ghost apparently named Skulker laughed and extended what looked like huge rockets from his shoulders.
“Danny! You have to go ghost!” Tucker called.
“I—” He hesitated. He didn’t want to. “I don’t—”
“There’s no time!” Sam yelled as she brought out her own ectogun, pitifully small in comparison to Skulker’s weapons, now aimed right at Danny. “Danny, just do it!”
Skulker fired.
Danny closed his eyes and reached for the cold inside of him.
And then he opened them again and it was over.
Tucker was next to him, smiling and jumping. “That was so cool! You just—Just flew and shot him and—!”
Danny looked down at his hands. They were smeared with green. “What did I do?”
Sam slapped him on the back with a wide smile. “You kicked Skulker’s butt!”
“I…did?” His hands started shaking.
“Danny?” Tucker asked carefully, his smile dying down. “You okay?”
Danny lowered his hands and hid them behind his back. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
Sam’s smile dropped. “No memory again?”
Danny looked away.
“Here! I took a photo this time- Maybe it will help?” Tucker said hopefully, holding out his phone to show him.
Danny grabbed the phone with shaking hands and looked down at the image of a glowing ghost with white hair and dressed in a black jumpsuit. Danny traced the outline of what was supposed to be him.
He pressed his lips together, looked away and handed the phone back to Tucker.
He didn't want to see this person, this ghost, who had stolen all of his memories, made him a fragment of himself.
It felt like dying. Like the death he had cheated when he had his portal accident was creeping up on him.
—
The ghosts got stronger and the gaps in Danny's memories got longer.
It wasn't unusual for him to forget whole days and it got harder and harder to follow along with what was going on around him. It started to leak into his every-day life as well and Danny had a suspicion it came with him becoming more ghostly even as a human. Like right now; he had been doing his homework and then—
Then he came to with something warm and wet dripping down his face. He was lying down on his back, something hard and cold beneath him. His head throbbed. Danny slowly sat up to find himself in a small crater of cracked concrete.
He looked around and his breathing hitched.
There was devastation all around. He was… He was outside the mall, or what was left of it. Collapsed walls, split streets, several demolished cars and streetlamps, and almost no humans in sight. There was a dragon in the sky above, all glowing otherworldliness and booming roars that shook the ground beneath Danny’s already rattled body.
Danny’s breathing picked up and his rib cage hurt. He couldn’t hear anything except the dragon’s loud roar echoing through his skull. He needed to get out of there. He scrambled to his hands and knees, green dripping down his nose and splattering on the cracked asphalt. And then his arms gave out.
Danny screamed into the ground in fear and frustration.
A sudden whining sound reached him and then something hot and bright slammed into the ground next to him, leaving a smoking crater.
Danny scrambled to his feet, stumbled a few steps, and then his knees buckled. His palms stung and he smelled burnt citrus and smoke. Smelled his own blood.
He didn't know who this ghost was. He didn't know what they wanted or what he himself had been doing. He didn't even know where his friends were.
As if hearing his panicked thoughts, Sam and Tucker popped up from behind an overturned car.
Sam cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed, “Danny! You okay?!”
Danny didn’t know how to answer that so he simply blinked and tried to breathe through the pain and panic.
Out of the corner of his eye he distantly noted that the ghost had turned towards his friends and raised its hands and fired another set of glowing energy. That… That wasn’t good.
“Danny!” Tucker screamed and there was real fear in his voice. Danny reacted on instinct, tugging on that cold feeling in his chest, felt the transformation pass over him, and then—
And then the fight was over. He was on the other side of town and his friends were nowhere in sight.
At least this time there weren’t any ghosts in the sky. That he could see. Danny took a step before stopping in place as an involuntary noise of pain tore from his throat.
He wouldn’t be able to make it back home by himself.
“Guys?!” He called out to the empty street. “Where are you? Are you okay?” Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. “…What happened?”
The silence was broken by a cheery tune and Danny frowned at the out-of-place sound. Then his brain registered it as his ringtone and he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. It had a new crack though the center but after a couple of tries he managed to answer the call from Tucker. “…Tuck?”
“Danny?! Where are you? You okay?”
“I—” Danny looked around and decided to answer the easier of the two questions. “I’m next to the library. In front of the park.”
“We’ll be right there!”
Then he hung up and Danny was left in silence. He limped over to the edge of the park and stood next to a cluster of trees, feeling a bit better when he was slightly hidden from view.
He zoned out, swaying where he stood and trying not to think about what had just happened. How he felt.
“Danny?”
Danny looked up, blinking in surprise when he came face to face with Tucker and Sam, both of who looked slightly scratched up but otherwise okay. They were both looking at him with worried expressions.
He opened his mouth to answer them, but all that came out was a sob.
And then there were hands on him, careful and light, but they still hurt. Everything just hurt.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re fine,” Tucker said as he frowned when he took in the state Danny was in.
Sam nodded and added, “You did it.”
Danny sucked in a shaking breath and managed, “But I didn’t. I just—We were in school and then at the mall and now I’m here, and I don’t—” his breath caught painfully in his throat. “I can’t—I can’t remember.”
The hands on his shoulders tightened as Danny slumped, his legs not able to hold him up any longer. He was carefully lowered to the ground. Sam, speaking with forced calm, “Come on, let’s sit down.”
Tucker added a slightly panicked, “And breathe, please.”
And Danny did his best to fulfill his request. They sat in silence for several long minutes as Danny got himself back under some semblance of control, the panic pushed back to its usual simmering where it always resided nowadays.
“Alright,” Danny said as he dragged a hand down his face. “So what happened this time?”
Tucker gave him a dubious look. “You sure you're good?”
Danny nodded even though he really, really wasn't. But he needed them to tell him what he had done, what had happened. “Please. I need to know.”
Sam heaved a deep sigh, leaning back on her hands from where she sat next to Danny in the grass. “Where should we even start?”
“Yeah, dude,” Tucker said as he crossed his legs, “it's starting to get hard to clue you in to what's happening every time you change.”
Sam nodded with a worried frown. “It's starting to feel like talking to two different people.”
Danny tensed in fear as a wave of fresh panic washed over him. “What do you mean? Is Phantom acting differently?”
Tucker gave him a strange look. “You aren't acting differently, it’s just hard since you don't remember anything that's going on.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “it's starting to become dangerous.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?” And even Danny himself was surprised at the anger in his voice, but he had run out. He was empty. He just wanted a break.
Sam shook her head, “No, that’s not what we—
“I’m so sorry that this is inconvenient to you!”
“Danny, stop,” Tucker pleaded.
“No! I’m— I can’t just— Who even am I anymore?!” Danny covered his face with his hands, not wanting to look at them anymore. “Is he the real Danny?!”
“Stop being dramatic,” Sam said, but there was more worry than annoyance in her voice and it only made Danny more scared. If even Sam was worried about this situation then he might be truly fucked.
Tucker added, “And you have to breathe.”
“Do I?! Aren't I dead?!” Danny growled as he lowered his hands back down.
“We can—” Sam said and then hesitated. “We can solve this.”
“How?!” Danny demanded.
“I don't know!” Sam threw her hands in the air. “Maybe… Maybe we should ask you when you're a ghost? Since you remember more then?”
Danny felt betrayal well up inside of him, hot and sharp and burning. And then the panic came back. “You like him better, don't you?”
Sam held her hand up in front of her with wide eyes. “No! Of course we don't! Danny, it's still you. You know that and—”
“I don’t know that!” Danny bit out. “I can’t remember anything!”
Silence. Sam and Tucker kept their eyes on the ground, their shoulders raised high.
Danny felt shame crawl up his throat; he hadn't meant to take it out on them. He slumped back where he sat, looking up at the sky. He let out a long breath, ignoring the way his ribs twinged. “Maybe my parents are right.”
Sam and Tucker both blinked at him and Sam breathed out an incredulous, “…What?”
“I mean. Phantom. He’s, I don’t know, replacing me? Isn’t that the same as haunting me?”
Tucker shook his head. “No, Danny, it’s still you.”
“No, it’s not. I can’t remember any of it,” Danny argued, but the anger was gone from his voice. He only felt tired.
“So then you're going to, what?” Sam asked incredulously, “Ask them to attack you?!”
“No. No. I just. Maybe they can help to… get rid of him? Make him go away?” Danny blinked up at the clouds in wonder. It was so simple, why hadn't he seen it before?
“Danny, no. That is not the answer,” Tucker said with a shaking voice and Danny looked down at his friends to find them looking at him with horrified expressions.
He tilted his head to the side. “Do you have a better idea? Do any of you have a single other idea on what to do? I can’t—I can’t keep doing this.”
Tucker looked down at his hands and then carefully said, “…What if you just stopped transforming into Phantom?”
“You’re the ones who always insists that I need to transform! Besides, we all know I can’t do that. Who else is going to protect everyone in town?” He paused and then pressed on, “Protect you?”
They were both silent. That was answer enough.
Danny struggled to his feet with a groan. “I want to go home. I’m tired.”
A cold feeling forced itself up his throat and escaped his lips like a dying breath. Danny slumped where he stood, too tired and worn out to hide his dismay.
Of course another ghost had to attack right now. Of course.
Sam and Tucker both raised their hands as if to stop him but Danny took a short step back to avoid it. Sam looked up at him with wet eyes as Tucker said, voice choked, “Danny you don't have to—”
But he did. He always did.
Before his friends could say something else, Danny tugged on the cold feeling in his chest and closed his eyes.
The cold spread and spread and spread.
#dp#danny phantom#dp fic#danny phantom fic#dp fanfic#me back on my angst train choo choo#i realized i have never really “killed off” danny before?#there's a first time for everything#phic#my writing#phandom truce 2023
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warning: eating disorders/food issues
-
"Something wrong with it?"
Usopp startled and snapped his head to the side. His nose jabbed Sanji's eye and they both hissed. Usopp jerked away to rub the tip of his nose.
"Fuck, I forgot about that," Sanji grumbled. There was a contrasting, fond smile on his face as rubbed his eye. "Anyway, the food?"
"What about it?"
"What's wrong with it?"
Usopp turned his gaze back to his plate. Plenty of pork chops piled high- at Luffy's request for a meat-filled dinner- and mashed potatoes with green beans on the side. His mouth salivated again just staring at it.
"Nothing," he said. "Just taking my time."
He could feel Sanji's unimpressed stare. "You've been 'taking your time' through the whole dinner. Everyone's already finished and left. The moss ball even finished the dishes, and we both know how he likes to dawdle."
Despite himself, Usopp giggled quietly. When it was his turn to do dishes, Zoro always took his time, waiting for Sanji to get frustrated with his speed and leave him to finish it alone. It was the perfect strategy to steal booze when Sanji wasn't looking, but it seemed Usopp had unknowingly thwarted his first sake stealing attempt after their reunion.
As if reading his mind, Sanji said, "I let him steal that alcohol, you know. I'm not that stupid." He huffed, voice sounding like he was pouting as he added, "It's the only damn way I can keep an eye on his shitty drinking habits. He'd constantly drink us dry otherwise, that damn mossheaded bastard."
Usopp giggled again and made the mistake of glancing up at him. Sanji was staring across the room at the kitchen, probably the place he'd put all the good booze. He'd confided in Usopp, once, that he had two hiding places for drinking alcohol: one, more obvious place, by the fridge for the cheap stuff, and another, hidden somewhere he wouldn't say, for all the more expensive and high quality stuff. He'd confidently crowed, on more than one occasion, that despite the cheap stuff always going missing, he'd never lost a drop of anything else. He always looked so smug saying that, and well, Usopp now knew why.
But then his eye- the left one now, and despite looking right at it, the change had still caught him off guard more than once- turned to Usopp and Usopp clammed up. Sanji stared at him, his eyebrow- this one curled on the opposite side, closer to his nose bridge than his ear- raised high on his forehead. "If you're well enough to laugh at Zoro, it can't be that bad."
Usopp gulped. Looked away. "I'm not sick," he said quietly. "The food looks great, Sanji, really. Eating is just..." He trailed off. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, only the sounds of their distant crewmates enjoying the sight of their descent to the ocean's floor filling the galley.
Sanji's arm slowly, hesitantly, laid on the back of his chair- Sanji didn't used to hesitate, but, he supposed, things had changed. He settled himself in the chair next to Usopp, rather than continue to lean over him, and said softly, "Eating is just...?"
Usopp stared at the grain on the table, studying the lines and deviations with an intense and sudden fascination.
"Usopp."
"It's hard," he mumbled.
Another silence, this one less expecting and more confused. Awkward.
"You ate fine at breakfast...?" Sanji said, voice lilting up at the end, almost in question.
Usopp snorted. 'Ate fine' was a kinder way of putting it. Usopp had demolished breakfast, nearly rivaling Luffy with how much and how quickly he ate. The usual sense of desperation had dimmed slightly, now that he was with his crew, but it was still there, dictating his eating habits. He would've felt more ashamed if he hadn't seen Luffy, Franky, and Brook eating in the exact same disgusting manner. Instead, he felt right at home.
He had wondered, privately, if something similar had happened to them. Had tossed around the idea of asking them about it. Then he would think back to how they used to eat, before. How it was exactly the same. How they had all basically cried that they'd so dearly missed Sanji's cooking. He couldn't blame them, he nearly sobbed over Sanji's pancakes- and then did sob over his hashbrowns.
"The island got hungry at dawn," he started. Stopped. Stared at the little vase of daisies at the centre of the table that Robin had gathered from her garden- now shared with Usopp. "It would close up. Then open. After, everything was... safe. For a little while."
He gulped again, cringing at his dry throat. He stared at the glass of water, a little wet stain under it. Luffy had bumped his glass earlier when he stole a few chops off of Usopp's pile.
Usopp didn't reach for it.
"You know, I was expecting grand stories of your heroics when you finally talked about where you were." Usopp shrunk in his seat. "No- no, come on I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to make a joke."
"You should leave the jokes to the experts." Usopp's lip quirked. "Even Brook's better than you."
Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji scowled. "Brook wouldn't know a good joke if it kicked him upside the head."
Usopp giggled again, relaxing. "Admit it, you missed his skull jokes."
Sanji huffed. "...Maybe a little."
In the background, they could hear Zoro talking about taking a swim followed by a familiar thud and Nami yelling at him. They both giggled this time, leaning into each other.
"God, I missed everyone. I missed-" Sanji cut himself off and Usopp turned to look at him. There was a wobble to his lips and his visible eye stared intently at him. Usopp would almost say Sanji looked longing- yearning, even- if he didn't know better.
"I know," he said. "I missed everyone too." Sanji's eyes pinched a little at the corners, but Usopp didn't know why. He didn't linger on it long though, what with Sanji's smile as he pressed his temple to Usopp's for a moment. Usopp's heart would've beat wildly two years ago, but now all he felt was warm and content.
Sanji hummed in agreement and pulled away. Patting his pockets, likely for a cigarette. Usopp pulled the one tucked behind his ear, admiring the feel of soft blond hair a moment too long before handing it to him. Sanji chuckled and accepted it with a quiet thanks.
He lit it and sat back in his chair, relaxing with the first inhale. "Back to the important stuff." Usopp would argue all of that was important stuff. "You only felt safe to eat breakfast?"
Usopp shook his head. Then tilted it side to side. "No- well, sort of. It was never really safe, but..." He rolled the words around his mouth, feeling out the right ones while discarding others. "It was... easier. To eat a lot in the morning. Gather food later in the day. Then sleep when I got hungry closer to sunset."
Sanji blew out a puff of smoke. "You didn't have anyone to watch your back while you were eating?"
"I did." Usopp nodded, a sense of pride filling him as he puffed out his chest. "Heracles'n was a great friend and teacher! We took turns watching out for each other and, well, he's the reason I survived that island in the first place." He flexed one of his biceps. "He also helped me get a whole lot stronger!"
Sanji pursed his lips around his cigarette. "But you didn't eat dinner. Or lunch." Today nor in nearly two years, though Sanji likely meant the latter.
Usopp deflated, arm settling back down in his lap. "We couldn't stop moving until sunset. By then it was better to sleep and eat heap loads in the morning rather than risk dinner and not getting enough rest." He sighed. "Heracles'n was always telling me to eat more berries and fruit throughout the day, but..."
Sanji stared at him. "You had this-island-is-too-scary-so-I-can't-eat-anything-itis?"
Usopp scowled. "I'd like to see you keep up an appetite when you're constantly running and hiding from giant-"
Sanji used his arm to tug Usopp closer, so their sides were pressed together. He pressed his nose to Usopp's hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"What for?" Usopp whispered back.
Sanji didn't answer, his breaths warming Usopp's head. The galley had grown silent when he finally spoke, the others having found quieter activities or retired to their rooms.
"If I was stronger then- or quicker-"
"Sanji," Usopp said. "There's no way you would've been able to beat Kuma, back then."
Sanji shook his head. "I know, but maybe we could've been sent somewhere together."
There was a bittersweet, choking feeling in the back of Usopp's throat. A burning in his eyes. "You wouldn't have liked it there," he said, laying his head on Sanji's shoulder. "You would've hated it, actually."
"But I would've been with you."
Usopp laughed, the sound wet and brittle. "I wouldn't wish that island on anyone, Sanji, but least of all you. I'm not worth-"
A hand cupped his face, cutting him off as he was turned to face Sanji. His nose was bent, pressing against Sanji's cheek. "You worth a lot, Usopp. You're worth it to-" Sanji's cheeks dusted pink all of a sudden and he looked away. "You're worth a lot. And it would've been nice if I could have watched your back. Made sure you were eating well."
At a loss for words, Usopp turned back to the table, staring at his plate. The mashed potatoes were surely cold and hard by now and he was fairly certain a thick pork chop wouldn't stay down.
The green beans, maybe. Those could work.
He picked one up. His stomach rumbled. He lifted it to his mouth.
His hands shook.
He gulped again. Stared at his hand intensely.
Sanji's hand covered his own. A sudden, terrible spike of anxiety overwhelmed him and he held his breath, hoping Sanji wasn't going to just force him to eat it. He hated wasting food after all and it was already in Usopp's hand and Usopp himself just needed to quit cowering and just eat it already-
Sanji pulled his hand away from his mouth. The tension left Usopp in a rush. Shame took up where anxiety had left, but he forced himself to meet Sanji's eye. He knew what came next.
Before Sanji could say anything, Usopp blurted, "There was food. On the island. Not just fruits and berries and whatever game we could hunt. Pre-cooked food, I mean." Sanji's brow furrowed, but Usopp continued on. "There were these plants- and rivers- that had cake and burgers and ramen and- well, you get the idea. And the closer you got to the centre of the island, the more tasty the food got." He gulped. Coughed a little. Sanji reached for his glass, but Usopp grabbed his wrist in a tight hold. If he didn't get it all out now, he never would.
"I didn't meet Heracles'n immediately. I was on my own at first and- and I didn't completely trust him at first either." He laughed, the sound as self-deprecating as it felt. "The centre of the island, that's where its mouth is."
Sanji's eyebrow furrowed further. "So when you said the island 'got hungry'..."
Usopp nodded. "It was a trap to lure in prey." Quietly, he added, "Like me."
Sanji gasped, his eyes darting down, and wow, Usopp really should've re-thought the whole 'show off his new muscles by going shirtless' plan. He pulled away from Sanji, and pulled up the waist of his pants. "Staring at my stretch marks isn't going to change anything, y'know."
Sheepishly, Sanji said, "Sorry- sorry, I should know better." He held out his arms, with a sad little pout. "Come back?"
Usopp held out for a few moments, glaring at him, but he sighed and eventually gave in. "I hate you," he mumbled into Sanji's shoulder. Sanji patted his back in response.
The two of them sat there in silence once more. Usopp savoured the contact between them, like he had always dreamed of on Boin.
"You had to train yourself to avoid delicious looking foods, then," Sanji said quietly. Usopp nodded. "That makes sense. But then, breakfast?"
A new wave of shame, far heavier than the last. He dug his forehead into Sanji's shoulder. "I don't want to talk about it."
He didn't know how to explain how he had become some kind of wild animal during meals and he didn't want to explain. Heracles'n was already one person too many and earlier, the entire crew had seen him. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest at the reminder, a belated rush of fear to make up for his single minded focus at breakfast.
"Then I won't ask," Sanji said. "You should tell Chopper though-"
Usopp grimaced. "Eventually, but..."
Sanji sighed, pressing his cheek to Usopp's hair. "Okay, but can I make you something? Just a snack or tea or...?"
Usopp huffed. "Sanji-"
"I know, I know! But letting you go to bed hungry is..."
"Hard," Usopp finished for him, pulling away. "I know."
He wasn't going anywhere before Sanji fed him, of that he was sure, but it made Usopp's stomach queasy just thinking about all the snacks Sanji used to make before they were separated.
Some of it must have shown on his face too, since Sanji was already holding up his hands and starting to look even more concerned. "It doesn't have to be anything special. I could just peel a tangerine for you or slice up some apples or juice some pears- I mean oranges! Why would anyone juice pears- oh, hm, I should check that sometime; remind me to write it down. Oh and maybe I could steep a really bitter tea, so you don't have to worry about drinking too much because I know you hate bitter things-"
And Usopp couldn't help himself. He laughed.
Sanji deflated, his brow furrowed in confusion, or maybe it was concern. Usopp didn't know, he was too busy laughing at the absurdity of Sanji being so anxious and speaking every rambling thought. It was adorable and Usopp couldn't help but reach up and squish Sanji's cheeks.
"I lo-" Sanji's eye widened and suddenly, Usopp didn't feel brave enough. "Lost my notebook. We'll have to use one of yours."
"O-Oh, yeah, sure." Sanji nodded, voice slightly muffled by his squished cheeks. He stared at Usopp, his eye asking another question.
Usopp looked away, his eyes landing on the fruit bowl on the bar counter. There were apples, bananas, and pears. He pulled his hands away. "...Nami will be mad at you." he said quietly, weakly.
Sanji sighed, a shaky, relieved little thing. He wrapped his arms around Usopp's middle, crushing him to his chest. "I think she'll forgive me," he said.
Boldly, Usopp added, "What if you made coffee?" The only coffee in the pantry was a fancy jar brought along from a Revolutionary base near a village that prided themselves on their harvest.
Sanji chuckled. "Robin would forgive me too."
Usopp hummed. "You seem awfully confident."
"I am," he said, pulling away completely, his chair squeaking against the floorboards as he stood. Sanji held out a hand, a smile on his lips. "If you don't believe me, let me show you."
And right here, Usopp could've chosen to laugh it off. Said something about not wanting to face Nami's wrath, much less Robin's. Fled the galley completely with an excuse or three and sleep in his workshop while ignoring any and all feelings of guilt. It would've been easy.
But he'd already accepted it. Acknowledged the inevitable consequences instead of turning down those anxious suggestions. How could he do anything else, in the face of such genuine care and concern? To leave now would just hurt them both and the last thing Usopp wanted to do was hurt Sanji.
And, well, he trusted Sanji, to do what he couldn't. Planned to trust him with his heart, at some point.
Trusting him with his stomach, in comparison, was as easy as breathing.
So, Usopp placed a steady hand in Sanji's own, a small, teasing smile on his face, and said, "Lead the way."
#one piece#sanuso#sanji#usopp#meant to be pre-relationship but can be read however#nemo the writing ho#side note: dear god this ended up way longer than intended#had a nice time writing them being gay though 💚#gotta remember to put this on ao3 later#belated tag i forgot to add but this was inspired by redriotinggg's post the other day#i was POSSESSED with the need to write after reading it lmao
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you got any orv fic recs 🙏🏼
BOY I sure do. This list is going to be pretty long, so I'll put it below the cut.
Mei's ORV Fic Reccs
Spoilers for ORV until the epilogue!
Post-Epilogue by the1864
GEN, yoohankim if you squint. This one is one of my favorite ORV fics at the moment so it's going first in this list! It picks up right where 551 leaves off, and every single character is written absurdly well, especially the main trio! Great if you're looking for KDJ recovery stuff.
Rendezvous by WindsofTime
Joongdok. A reimagining of select scenes from ORV, if KDJ and YJH made more use of Midday Tryst, told from YJH's point of view. A tiny bit different from canon, but not enough to call it canon divergence. The babygirl YJH fic ever. Op GETS him.
The False Last Act by younglegends
GEN. If you read any fic on this list, please read this one. I can't say anything about it without spoiling parts of it, and I really don't want to do that. Extremely well executed. Lovely, comforting, and will make your stomach flip like you've stared too long into the abyss. Read this fic TWICE. Read it TWO (2) TIMES.
My Cooking was Always Better with You (Now if only you would eat it) by pave_ment
GEN, joongdok if you squint. For those who lament over the fact that we never got to see any scenes from YJH's 81st regression cooking adventure I present to you: Dungeon Meshi AU, ft. chimera KDJ and bratty chef adventurer YJH. Enjoy!
Tell Me I Did Good Until Now by featherx
GEN. with a little sangsoo on the side. KDJ returns post epilogue, but stays a child in body and mind. This one had me reeling for the whole week when I read it. Sweet and melancholy. I especially loved YJH being bullied by children. KDJ is really, profoundly loved in this one.
An Incomplete Record of Correspondence Between The Magnificent, Unbiased, Genius Author Han Su-yeong and The Jackass Who Dares to Edit Her Work by Dragonomatopoeia
Joongdok. Yoohan's annoying arguments in the ORV shared google doc. The concept and title alone are too funny to not put on this list.
The Prologue Past the Epilogue by AVoresmith
Yoohankim, though mostly just JD at the moment. Of all the ORV fics I've ever read, I think this fic comes to closest to imitating the actual writing style of ORV along with nailing the characterizations with pinpoint precision. Also contains a JD kiss chapter that is more intense than any actual nsfw scene they could have wrote. There are some caveats to this recommendation though:
It gets slightly NSFW in the latest chapter.
Biyoo is several hundred years old and is treated as an adult, not a kid. There will be mention of Biyoo in relationships with adult partners -- including implied YJH. In my opinion it's handled tactfully, but it's also something that might turn some people off to this fic, so please be aware!
LGY has a big puppy love crush on KDJ. Obviously completely one-sided, but it's there.
Home Invasion by misoriri
GEN. KDJ gets shingles and has to be taken to the doctor. YJH breaks a door and then looms in the kitchen like an evil lamp post. JHW bites a tomato like an apple. LJY gets demolished at Club Penguin Card Jitsu. A short read, but hysterical. KCom is so fucking funny in this.
I saw you in a dream by featherx
GEN, Doksoo if you squint. OD meets the HSY of his new worldline, and can't help feeling like he knows her from another time, another place. Had to lay down after this one. Solid 999 and SP fam content, as well as typical YHK style cosmic unbreakable bonds.
We are A Woven Thread by ksalientian
Yoohankim. A reincarnation AU. I read this one a while back but I found it again recently and it still hits just as hard! The cosmic codependence trio finds themselves trapped in another looping cycle, but as is always the case with them, they always find each other and are okay in the end.
A Short Pause by Je_te_veux
GEN, but can be read as JD. An episode set between 517 and 520, a day in the life of YJH, and having some time to think. JTV is a Chinese writer, and you will need to copy and paste into a translator to read their fics, but genuinely they are one of the best ORV writers I've ever read. This fic is one of the ones I always come back to. Really excellent YJH characterization.
Honey and Ginger by Rivani
Yoohankim. Good old fashioned fluff sickfic! The banter is very well done; the three of them are insufferable <3
Too Many Cooks by SonaSona
Yoohankim. KCom makes dinner. HSY makes herself a nuisance. Sona's prose is incredible, and her characterization of the main trio is impeccable. Light, sweet, with just a touch of the ORV brand melancholy. Yoohan is always funny.
There are more but this post is getting pretty long so! Enjoy 👍
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A Drunk Mind Speaks A Sober Heart Part 1
Summary: Reader gets injured on a call but Buck is swiftly to the rescue with Eddie in tow. Later on, Reader and Buck make drunken confessions to separate confidants.
TW/CW: Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader, (Y/N) = Your Name, (Y/L/N) = Your Last name, best friends to lovers but not made official until part 2, swearing, house fire, bruised ribs and concussion with pain described, alcohol consumption, gets kind of depressing toward the end, swtiches POVs so look out for that.
Requested?: No
Word Count: 3,035
A/N: Alrighty, part 2 picks up right after where this one leaves off and I’ll have it up as soon as I edit through it lol. This took like 4 or 5 hours to write as a whole and I’m pretty fuckin proud of it.
Prompts: None
A/N: I can't... he's so fucking adorable.
Part 2 Here
Third Person POV
It’s Monday and the LAFD 118 team has been called to a two story house fire and said house is beginning to collapse. Buck and Eddie jog away from it toward the engine to assist in putting out the rest of the fire, having rescued the residents and left them with Hen and Chim. As they approach Bobby, his gaze is cast beind them, “Where is (Y/N)?” he asks looking back to Buck and Eddie. The two look behind them and then back at each other before Buck takes off sprinting back toward the house even as the roof caves.
Bobby makes eye contact with Eddie who is already backing away, “Way ahead of you.” Eddie swiftly catches up with Buck as they both dodge a falling rafter.
“(Y/N)!” Buck yells, fear evident in his voice. Together the two yell for their teammate as they carefully pick through the flames around them. After what feels like ages, but is only a couple of minutes, Eddie slaps his friend on the shoulder. Pulling him to a stop, he motions for Buck to stop yelling. Barely audible over the flames, a chorus of meows is heard.
The two look to each other once again. “Don’t tell me she went back for cats,” Eddie mumbles, shocked.
Buck sighs and begins moving toward the sound, “This is (Y/N) we’re talking about. Of course she did.”
Finally, they find (Y/N) lying in the corner of whats supposed to be the kitchen. A rafter seems to have swept her off of her feet and is now lying across her ribcage. The area is mostly clear of flames and lying just to the side of (Y/N), as if she had dropped it when she was crushed, is an upturned nylon basket which is the source of the meows. “Help me with this rafter,” Buck urges as he moves towards (Y/N). Together the two lift the rafter off of her and toss it aside. Buck bends down and carefully lifts (Y/N) into his arms and begins heading for an exit. Eddie retrieves the basket of cats and follows.
By now, the flames have been subdued and only small flickers are seen scattered across the now demolished building. Buck shakes (Y/N) softly and she begins to wake up. She looks up at him in slight confusion before looking around her. “Wait, wait,” she mumbles, “Put me down, please.” Unwillingly, Buck does so to avoid an elbow or knee to his ribs.
(Y/N)’s POV
I stop Eddie as he catches up to us and retrieve the basket of cats from him. I look inside to make sure all three kittens and their mother are accounted for and at least breathing before I turn back around to find their owner. I spot the little girl with Hen and her parents and beline toward them. My legs attempt to give out from under me as my ribs and head throb in pain but I need to do this. I pull my helmet off, tossing it to the ground and stop in front of the little girl. Holding out the basket to her, I offer a small smile. “Oh! Thank you so much! You shouldn’t have!” her mother gasps as she realizes what is inside the soot covered basket.
“I don’t know what I would do if I lost one of my fur babies. I wanted to,” I lean closer to the mother as the little girl takes the basket, exploding with joy. “For her sake,” I whisper to the mother and father.
Mom pulls me into a tight hug, which makes my ribs riot but I ignore them. She pulls away and places her palm against my cheek, “Thank you so much, honey. You just made this whole ordeal a little better for her.”
I offer another smile, “Don’t thank me yet. They’ll need a vet visit asap and,” I lower my voice, “I tried to keep them covered as much as possible with my coat but they got a good bit of smoke exposure. They seem okay now but I’m not sure about the long term affects,” I pause, “If you catch my drift.”
The father nods, “We understand but regardless, thank you.”
I smile to both of them before kneeling in front of the little girl who has busied herself with brushing the soot off the still meowing cat and kittens, “You take real good care of them okay?” She nods eagerly as she sets the basket aside and hops down from the gurney. She wraps her small arms around my neck in a tight hug and mumbles a thank you into my shoulder. “You are very welcome, Sweetie.”
The little girl lets go and returns to her basket of fluff so I stand and turn around to see Buck waiting a few feet away. He does not look happy and I know I’ll get an earful later. I make my way toward him, and looking back at the little girl with her basket of cats I decide, “It was worth it,” I state firmly to Buck as he meets me and wraps his arms around my shoulders to guide me to the other side of the firetruck out of sight of the family. As soon as we round the corner of the truck, my legs give and Buck has to catch me to keep me from faceplanting the pavement.
He picks me up once more before setting me on the side of the truck. He brushes my hair out of my face, “You’re going to give me an aneurysm one of these days.” Bobby, Hen, and Eddie join us before I can muster up a response. By now my ribs feel like their about to collapse inwards and my head is trying to explode. A bout of diziness nearly takes me down again but I lean into Buck who has collected a handful of alcohol prep pads to clean the soot off my face and taken a seat beside me.
“What’s the damage?” Bobby asks as I do my best to follow the penlight Hen is moving back and forth in my eyes.
“Definitely a concussion,” she respondes, “Let’s see those ribs.” I suppose Eddie must’ve reported back to them alerting them to my injuries plus he’s pulling an oxygen mask over my face.
Bobby nods and holds up my helmet, “Well, that’s not surprising.” I now notice the crack across the visor and cringe. I struggle with my turn out for a moment before Buck slaps my hands away and helps me out of it. I lift my shirt to reveal already bruising ribs.
Hen gently feels across my ribs and presses a stethescope over my lungs. I take a deep breath in as Hen speaks again, “I don’t think they’re broken but definitely heavily bruised.” She pulls the stethescope away and places it back in her kit before taking a step back to look at me, “I know it’ll be your biggest nightmare but you’re gonna have to take it real easy for the next few weeks.”
Buck hooks a finger under my chin and pulls me to face him as I groan. “I know. I know. You’ll live. Now let me get the rest of this mess off so we can bandage these cuts.” Eddie and Bobby depart as I attempt to sit still for Buck but I keep fidgeting and adjusting in an effort to ease the pain in my ribs.
Hen laughs but states seriously, “You’re gonna need a CT scan to check for brain bleeds and some X-rays to make sure your ribs aren’t broken and to check for skull fractures.”
“I know,” I mumble as she passes Buck some band-aids before closing her kit and returning to the other side of the truck. Buck finishes cleaning my face and begins fighting with the wrapper of a band-aid. His hands are shaking so bad he almost drops it several times before I finally wrap my hands around his and look up at him, “Just breathe, Buck. I’m alive,” I pause, “Very banged up but alive.”
His lips press into a thin line and he breaks eye contact to look down at our hands. He lets me have the band-aids so I open one of them before handing it to him for application. As he places it right below my hair line, eyes trained on it and not looking at mine, he mutters something under his breath. I wait for him to place the band-aid and smooth it down before tilting my head, confusion plain to see on my face. He sighs heavily, “I said you scared the shit out of me.” Finally making eye contact with me again he adds, “I can’t lose you. You mean too damn much to me.”
I wrap him in a hug, which he promptly returns, and mumble, “I’m sorry.” He buries his face in my neck as I bury mine in his chest and we stay that way for a long moment before finally returning to the task at hand. I open another band-aid and hand it over for him to place on my cheek below the other. “I just figure that the house burning down is pretty shitty but to lose the cats too would be even worse. I know I would’ve been devasted to lose mine,” I explain and he nods in understanding. Once he’s satisfied with my treatment, we both make our way to join the others, Buck keeping an arm at my back in case I start to collapse again.
Soon, we all depart and return to the Fire House. I’m carted off to the ER to get a CT scan and X-rays as doc ordered. As expected the results confirm a concussion but no brain bleeds, skull fractures, or broken ribs.
Finally the weekend is here and I am spending my Saturday night at Maddie and Chim’s house with Maddie, Athena, Hen, and Karen. By now my concussion is gone for the most part but my ribs are still pretty sore. My fellow ladies are all taking it easy, having a beer or glass of wine. I on the other hand have managed to get sloshed even though they have repeatedly warned me to slow down. Who knows what trouble Buck and Eddie are getting into tonight but Chim is at Bobby and Athena’s house with Jee-Yun for cooking lessons.
I’m currently sprawled out on my back in Maddie’s living room floor babbling on and on. Most of it is drunken non-sense but soon I find myself on a train of thought that I’m not quite sure I should be voicing aloud but drunk me has lost all fucks to give. As soon as the first sentence stumbles out of my mouth, “You know who I really really like?” the ladies are all on the edges of their seats. Hen has even pulled out her phone and started recording but I couldn’t care less. I need to get this off my chest and it’s about fucking time. I might as well carry on while I have the guts. “Buck,” I pause trying but failing to collect my thoughts and decide to simply ramble on as the room wobbles, “He’s just so fucking sweet. He’s got the largest and shiniest heart of gold I’ve ever seen. He’s hilarious as fuck... And adorable... And fine as hell... He makes me feel safe... and happy... and giddy.”
I sit up abruptly and wobble slightly before looking at the nearest person, who just happens to be Maddie, “And I don’t know what the hell the whole knee nudge thing is that he does,” I point to Hen, “You know what I’m talking about. That thing he does whenever he’s sitting beside me where he just like nudges my knee with his,” The room starts to spin so I lay back down and look up at the ceiling, “I-I don’t know what that is. I don’t know if he does it as a funny funny ha ha. Or if he does it to aggravate me. Which it did at first because I couldn’t figure out why he was doing it but I finally gave up and just started nudging back. But anyway, I don’t know why he does it but I hope he never stops... It always reminds me that he’s right there... It reminds me that I’m not alone, that someone will have my back if I’m about to do stupid shit or be there if I need a shoulder to lean on. It makes me feel safe.” I come to a halt and shuffle through the thoughts in my head.
“And another fucking thing. His fucking biceps, dude. They’re damn near as big as my head. Sometimes I just wanna,” I click my teeth together, “bite them. Actually, next time he hits me with the ‘Bite me, (Y/L/N)’... I’ma do it.” I stop to catch my breath and a sudden realization hits me, “I think I fucked up,” I slur out.
“Yeah, honey, you’re pretty wasted,” Athen says with laughter.
“No. No I said I fucked up,” I correct her, assuming she thought I said, “I think I’m fucked up.”
“You mean by drinking so much,” Hen asks,” Yeah, probably so.”
I see Maddie shake her head with a grin out of the corner of my eye and I inquire, “What?”
“Elaborate. They haven’t put two and two together yet,” she replies.
I huff, “I said, ‘I think I fucked up’ because I told myself I was not gonna fall in love again because my luck with relationships is so damn shitty but I think I done fell in love with him and I’m scared.”
“Why are you scared, sweetheart,” Karen asks.
“Because I don’t wanna get hurt again,” I mumble before quickly adding, “It’s not that I think he’s gonna hurt me. It’s just... conditioning ya know? Like, anytime things are going good for a while, my body kicks into fight or flight thinking something bad is about to happen because that’s always what happens. I always get steamrolled and knocked down a peg. I don’t wanna rope him into the shit show that is my life. He deserves someone that has their shit together. Someone who can give him the world. That’s what he deserves... not someone who’s gonna expect shit to go south from the start.” The room is silent as this explanation sinks in.
I hear the beep of Hen stopping the recording as Maddie gets up from the couch and bends down to grab my arm and help me up, “Let’s get you to bed okay?” I nod as she guides me toward a spare bedroom.
Buck’s POV
“How’s (Y/N) doing?” I hear Eddie ask from the kitchen as I sit sipping my whiskey. Chris has already gone to bed for the night and Eddie is putting away leftovers from dinner.
Having not fully processed what he asked due to the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream I drop my head onto the back of the chair I’m sitting in and grin, “She’s just so beautiful.”
Eddie pokes his head around the wall and looks at me in confusion, “What?’
“You asked about (Y/N). She’s pretty... and smart... She’s funny too.”
Eddie waves his hand to interupt me and sits down on the couch across from me, pulling out his phone, “Hang on what were you saying about (Y/N) I couldn’t hear you through your mumbles.”
I know damn well I wasn’t mumbling but repeat myself anyway, “I said, ‘She’s pretty and smart and funny,’” making sure to over-annunciate my words.
“Go on,” Eddie encourages, grinning at his phone.
I shake my head and carry on, “She’s always down for an adventure. She’s self-less. Like, as much as I want to be mad at her for risking her life to save those cats the other day, I can’t be because I know I’d do the same damn thing. She’d risk her life just to make sure someone elses doens’t end or is a little brighter despite the catastrophe they’ve just endured.” I sigh loudly, “I could watch her dance around like a goof ball or ramble about random shit for hours. Her smile makes me smile. Her laugh makes me laugh.”
“Really?” Eddie asks to keep me going.
I nod, “And you know how I nudge her knee with mine all the time?” Eddie nods, “It started out as just a way to annoy her when I was bored but now it’s way more than that. Now it’s a gentle reminder to her that I’m still right there by her side but also a reminder to myself that she’s right there within arms reach. I-I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her. I thought I did when I looked behind us and she wasn’t there. If I had lost her that day then not only would I no longer be able to enjoy her presence but i-it would’ve been my fault. I should’ve pulled up the rear and made sure she got out safe.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Buck. You know she would’ve went back for the cats anyway,” Eddie comments.
“I know but like I said that’s one of the things I love about her,” I pause, “Love. Did I just say love?” Eddie nods, “Man, I think I’m in love.” It’s quiet for a few moments before I breath out a laugh, “She has a really nice ass too.”
Eddie shakes his head and puts his phone away, “Alright buddy,” he says as he gets up and pulls the glass of whiskey from my grasp, “Time for you to hit the hay.” I begrudgingly get up and Eddie helps me to the couch.
“Wait,” I slur out once I’ve plopped onto the couch, and try to get back up but Eddie pushes me back down, “But I wanna go see her,” I whine but as the room wobbles I give up and lie back down.
“You can see her tomorrow. We’re having family breakfast at Athena and Bobby’s remember?” Eddie responds.
“Oh yeah,” I mumble before drifting off to sleep.
Masterlist
More Evan Buckley Imagines
Taglist: I have lost track of the one I had before so if you'd like to be added to it just lmk.
#tv: 911#911 imagine#911 imagines#911 buck#evan buckley 911#buck 911#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley imagines#evan buckley#911 buck imagine#911 buck imagines#buck 911 imagine#buck 911 imagines
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Can't Erase Heartbreak
A/N:As requested here is my first Aizawa x reader fic!I hope it hits you in the feels reading it cause it certainly hit me where it hurts while writing it.Enjoy!
Warnings:Minors DNI,angst,heartbreak,cheating,divorce,slight violence from reader
Pairing:Shouta Aizawa x f!Reader
Word Count:890
You spent 4 hours in front of that damn mirror, second guessing ever accessory and gem in your hair before stepping away to look at the full length mirror. You stared at yourself, hopelessly fidgeting with your long purple dress. It was this beautiful sleeveless number with layers and ruffles that you bought for this specific occasion. It was your 6 year wedding anniversary to the one and only erasure hero. You wanted to surprise him with a fancy dinner and a walk through the park at sunset but he hasn't come home yet. You started to get worried. He should've been home a half hour ago. You pulled out your cellphone and dialed his number. You waited as it rang in your ear until it went to voicemail. Shota never lets you go to voicemail. That's when you decided to go and investigate. You got in your car and turned the key, peeling off in the direction of UA.
Slamming the door to your car, you run through the gates frantically looking around the empty campus. The sun was already starting to set and from the looks of it, everyone had already gone home. Teachers included. So what was Shouta doing here? 'Maybe he's just grading papers and lost track of time? He's always talking about how a few of his students need have more trouble.', you thought to yourself as you took the familiar route through the halls to his classroom. As you came upon his door, you heard voices. You could tell that one of them belonged to your sweet, beloved Shota but you didn't recognize the second voice. You quietly pushed the door open just to have a tiny peek, just enough for no one in the room to be able to notice you. That's when you felt the metaphorical knife go through you. It was like being completely gutted from the inside out, your whole world flipping and turning inside out. Ms. Joke. There she was. On your Shouta's lap. You pushed the door open wide enough to be noticed but they were so busy swallowing each other's tongues that they didn't notice. Almost. Shouta felt your stare burning into the side of his head so hard that he turned slowly towards his door. His eyes were wide when they met yours but you couldn't even really react. All you could manage was to stare him in the face while you raised your left hand. Your eyes never left his as you slid the diamond ring off of your ring finger and gently placed it on Kirishima's desk before calmly walking away and out of the building. Aizawa chased after you, calling your name the whole way and you heard him. Oh, you heard him alright but you couldn't find it in you to care. Even as you got into your car and drove away, to have dinner alone, you felt nothing.
*Timeskip*
You sat on the kitchen counter, pouring yourself a glass of 7 Moons red from the bottle you had bought for tonight. You scrolled through the many texts and voicemails that he had left you while you were at dinner. You had also stopped sharing your location with him which you were sure pissed him off to no end. Aizawa eventually made his way through the door and stared at you brokenly. You could tell just by looking at him that any resolve or determination he once had was completely demolished. "Listen I can explai-" You cut him off. "We're getting a divorce." Your statement is blunt, simple, and just that. A statement. No room for argument or persuasion. "Kitty Cat, please. It's not what it-" You cut him off yet again. "Firstly, you don't get to call me that anymore. It's (Y/N) to you. And secondly, it what? Wasn't what it looked like? Cause what it looked like was Ms. Joke sitting in my husband's fucking lap, making out with him when he was supposed to be home an hour ago for our goddamn anniversary dinner, Shouta!" You spit words like venom through gritted teeth. He stared at you with shame in his eyes. 'As he fucking should' You thought to yourself. "I deserve better than that and you fucking know it. So before I pack my bag to leave, I just want to know one thing." Your eyes never strayed from his scared face. You'd never seen Shota so fearful before this moment. He nodded. "How long?" He looked away from your eyes for the first time since he got home, begging for your mercy. "6 years to the date." Your blood boiled. You stood in shock for just a moment. "6 fucking years Shouta?!? You're fucking kidding me right? You've been cheating on me, your wife, the woman you married, for our entire marriage?! I can't fucking believe you. Honestly I fucking can't!" That's when you grab the expensive bottle of red on the counter and smash it over his goddamn skull. He clearly wasn't using the brain inside of it, anyways. You grab your purse deciding to come collect your things later, storming over to the door. As your hand is on the knob, door half open, you turn to Shota as he's groveling at your feet on the ground. "I should've fucked Mic on our honeymoon."
#aizawa#aizawa shouta#aizawa x reader#mha aizawa#bnha aizawa#eraserhead#mha#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha#my hero acedamia#boku no hero acedamia#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#mha fanfiction#angst#heartache#heartbroken
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Sumeru characters as classmates
Gn!reader
Includes: Collei, Tighnari, Dehya, Alhaitham, Cyno, Candace, Nilou, Kaveh, Nahida, Dori.
Collei
• a neat friend ngl
• would say she didn't do her homework to be punished together with you wow what a homie.
• But damn does she not chew off the tip of all pens and pencils because of her anxiety. Mm woi is it spoicy.
Tighnari
• He's a material girl
• no seriously he has all the stationary and shit, a cut on your finger? Pulls out the whole first aid kit. Hungry? Pulls out the whole kitchen he cookin like w 5* michelin
•Too smart you get irritated sometimes like he NEVER forgets his work and always right too wtf
Dehya
• Does not understand anything in class literally.
•Asks for your notes everytime and feels bad for it so she runs errands for you she calls it a fair trade bahahaha
•She has the whole basketball bros on the tip of her fingers that now they look at you and go "BOYS BOW DOWN ITS THE ALLY OF MASTER DEHYA"
AlHaitham
•🤓🤓🤓
•smarty pants
•honestly just throw him out of the window already.
•Talks back to the teachers wow
• "You want ice cream?" "no, thank you according to the weather today if you eat ice cream you will gai-" BITCH STFU ILL EAT IT BY MYSELF THEN
• as much as he's annoying it sure is fun to hear him spill tea about the teachers and school.
Cyno
• Dilligent student #2
• for some reason there's rumours that he has a gang in the school like leave the bb aloneeeee.
• You didn't have well thoughts about him being your seat partner at first because he seemed the type who thinks he's all cool n shi
•you literally planned a whole argument in your head on how you'd demolish him if he ever picked one with you
• you came to realise he's just nice and silly
• makes chemistry jokes sometimes and you pretend to get it
• ass is weak at chemistry sorry
Candace
• Your grades when she's your classmate 📈📈📈
• SO COOL AND RELIABLE
• She teaches better than the teachers istg
• She brings you snacks so you bring her small gifts too like charms and all 😞
• you two have matching school bag keychains. She has a moon and you have sun one she say it's because you're bright like a sun. Oof your heart and pride.
Nilou
• Popular girl wth
• You assumed she'd be one of those try to be nice and kind for favour type but you were wrong you felt dissapointed in yourself naur
•You two go out in café dates often she insists she wants to pay but how could let a sweetie like her do that?
•She loves you so much omg she even has your wedding venue ideas planned 💀
Kaveh
• He's really fun to be around not gonna lie.
• stressed bean comes to you to rant about Haitham everyday 😭
• Sends you capybaras memes during class hours like bitch??? Study you failing physics 😾
Nahida
• WTF IS A KID DOING HERE
• Dayumn this kid too smart for her age maybe that's why
• she's cute though so you won't bully her you guess.
•you holding back the urge to pinch her cheeks every 10 seconds.
Dori
•How tf did this kid here again
•tries to sell you premium student stationary for vip only with 20% discount
• yeah you're not falling for that
•kid tops every math class wtf
•send this kid to business pls
#genshin fanfiction#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin hcs#alhaitham x reader#genshin fluff#cyno x reader#tighnari x reader#dehya x reader#kaveh x reader
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Wildest dreams, pt. 20
Summary: Paul comes home.
Warnings: angst, mentions of a forest fire, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing
Wildest Dreams Masterlist
————————————
Paul didn't know what he'd come home to. He left Y/N in bed after they found the courage to be open about each other's feelings. For the longest time, Paul didn't expect to even dream of having her smile at him let alone hold her delicate heart in his rough, calloused hands and yet somehow it came to be.
Will she forgive him for his disappearance act now?
Truth be told, he wasn't fully aware he was awake when he walked into the forest. Paul was convinced he dreamed the whole thing until he arrived at the tree that haunted his dreams. The pack stayed back to put out the fire once the flame swallows his nightmares, but he couldn't stand another moment in its vicinity.
He had to come back to her.
Taking a deep breath, he opens the door slowly. Maybe she's gone home, or maybe she is somewhere out there looking for him, there are many possibilities. Still, Paul's heart told him otherwise. It flickers in his chest whenever she's near, despite his eyes being robbed of her lovely presence. Her scent lingers in the air, her heartbeat reaching his ears with the very first step he takes.
Letting out a shuddered breath, Paul nods to himself. Even if she's angry with him, at least she's here. She didn't leave and he takes comfort in that fact.
"I think you might want to turn around", Jacob tells her just as Paul reaches the doorway.
Y/N is sat on his kitchen floor, an empty bucket of ice cream demolished on the floor next to her.
Her head whips around, their eyes locked on each other as a light gasp passes her parted lips.
Paul raises his brows, "I thought you hated chocolate ice cream".
"I needed serotonin", she remarks before pushing herself off the ground and straight into his arms.
Her body collides with Paul’s who grunts at the impact, but his arms wrap around her tightly in an instant. If it were up to him, this is what life should be. He'd never let her leave his embrace, having her so close makes it easier to breathe.
She can be infuriating, but Paul would take all of that, forever if possible, just to keep her safe and a part of her must know this.
"You might wanna get a room", Jacob rolls his eyes and heads for the door.
"I got a whole house, you're the one trespassing", Paul smirks as he feels Y/N press a kiss onto his collarbone.
"Be nice", she warns sweetly, unable to muster up any anger. After thinking the worst, Y/N was far too happy to have Paul back where he belongs - in her arms...in her life.
Huffing, Paul nods. "Thank you for keeping her company."
"Anytime", Jacob replies. "And I do mean that", he gives Y/N a pointed look and she chuckles.
"Alright, alright. See you later?"
And with a slight nod, Jacob left the two alone.
Leaning her head back on his chest, Y/N sighs heavily.
"I'm sorry", he says softly as his hands trail down to the small of her back.
"Shh", she tightens her embrace. "It's fine."
"If it helps, I didn't plan on disappearing today."
"I know", she pulls back ever so slightly, angling her head to meet his gaze. Tears linger in his eyes and she can't help but notice the dark circles surrounding them. He seems exhausted and haunted by something she's not privy to, but he doesn't want to talk about it. Not yet. For once, she won't force the matter either.
"I thought you'd be mad at me", Paul's lips spread, flashing his pearly whites at her and she couldn't help but smile back.
"I wasn't angry", she admits, "I was terrified." Lips quivering, she shrugs meekly. "I wish you'd talk to me about what you're going through, but I won't push you. Just promise you'll tell me when you're ready."
Leaning down, he pecks her forehead. "I will."
"Okay", she presses her lips in a thin line. "So...do you wanna share a shower and order a pizza after?"
Raising his left brow, Paul's mouth falls open. "Share a shower?" His eyes widen, "TOGETHER?"
"That's what share typically implies", she grins. "Or I can shower alone." Slowly pulling down her shorts, Y/N smiles teasingly, "Your choice."
Biting his lower lip he chuckles, placing his right hand over his stomach. “I never understood it before”, Paul steps closer as her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. “The whole ‘fluttering butterflies in your stomach’ thing”, his lips spread in a grin. Noticing her cheeks darkening, Paul lets out a sigh in disbelief. “Thank you for making it perfectly clear what it means to truly fall in love with someone.”
Sniffling, she takes his hand, pulling it up to her lips. Pressing a soft kiss over his knuckles, she allows her lips to remain sealed to his skin for a few moments longer before looking up to meet his loving gaze.
Thankful she’s not questioning why his knuckles are bruised, Paul asks, “What was that for?” Paul places the tip of his index finger under her chin, gently, as if he’s afraid the slightest touch could cause her pain.
“For not giving up on me.” Y/N smiles, before adding, “And for not being a fool.”
Cocking his head to his left, Paul frowns. “Huh?”
His expression is serious, but she likes how it softens when he looks at her. It took her so long to realize that the way he looks at her is vastly different from the way he looks at everyone else. She remembers him when they were teenagers. Paul had a violent, uncontrolled temper which seemed to drive him insane when he would be annoyed in any way or manner, but she could never deny how good looking he was, not even then.
It’s always caused a conflict within – Y/N knew he wasn’t the type she should be attracted to, but her heart still sought him out and that made her angry, perhaps just as angry as he always seemed to be. And seeing him with all the girls he was frolicking around, Y/N turned bitter and frustrated, amplified by their constant squabbles that pushed her right over the line – toward hate. She could only ever love or hate him, and teenage Y/N wasn’t interested in being a number in a long line of girls waiting to be conquered by Paul.
So she antagonized him, she chose to hate him and for the longest time, she didn’t think it would ever end. She hated him every minute of every day of every year since she decided he was also to be blamed for her friends abandoning her.
The girl she was would never believe who she became – that she’s in Paul Lahote’s home, half dressed and madly in love with his stupid smirks and cheesy lines and deeply worried about him every time he isn’t with her.
Snorting, Y/N shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter now.”
And for whatever reason, Paul knew he shouldn’t doubt her. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters now, nothing but them. Perhaps he is a fool, but he’s only a fool for her. She is the one who created a possibility of a paradise he didn’t believe in before, but now he’s drunk and desperate for her. He knows her taste, her smell and he could recognize the sound of her beating heart among million others.
Paul allowed Y/N to lead him to the shower, watching her turn up the heat but he didn’t mind. She’s always cold, it makes sense she loves really warm showers. Once the clothes laid discarded on the bathroom floor, Paul could hardly contain himself, pulling her closer by her hips. Shower water falls like summer rain – warm and steady but the moment his lips press against hers, bond in a kiss so tender, the drops feel divine on their skin. Each drop washes away years of unseen pain, doubt and anger, the world ceasing to exist.
Pulling back, Y/N’s breathless. Moving Paul’s hands away from her hips, she beckons him to hand the shampoo bottle.
Slightly confused, Paul does as she pleases, eager to see what’s next.
Taking some of the shampoo, she lifts her hands until they get lost in his hair and the locks he still hasn’t gotten around to cutting shorter. Massaging his scalp, she smiles as Paul’s eyes close and his head lowers slowly until his forehead rests on her shoulder.
Blissfully relaxed under her touch, he allows her to continue. Trailing her fingers down the back of his neck, Y/N cleans off the dirt he picked up in the forest. Paul wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but her touch gives him tingles, his heart is beating so fast he can hardly breathe and he can’t help the fear of turning in the shower with her stuck inside with him…but the violent shivers never come.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, big bad wolf.” Her teasing tone has his lips spreading into a genuine smile rather than his usual smirk.
“You made me putty in your hands, dove.”
Chuckling, she kisses his temple. The infamous La Push womanizer had fallen victim to a woman’s hands where he learned what it means to love and truly love someone back. For the first time ever, Paul felt what true intimacy is – to be so at ease, comfortable, trusting, and loving with another.
He held onto Y/N tightly until the warm water ran out, planning to repay the favor next time. He’ll buy her favorite shampoo and shower gel, get the body lotion that makes her skin smell like flowers and worship her the way she deserves. He’ll leave kisses on every inch of her skin, whisper sweet nothings in her ear until she drifts off, knowing she’s safe and loved.
That night, Paul didn’t have any nightmares. Both of them finally slept through the night, exhausted from their worries. From that moment on, Paul didn’t waste time.
Every day was made memorable, spending time together, picking Y/N up after work, having dinner together, sometimes dropping by the ER to bring her lunch. Soon enough, she had a toothbrush at his place, Paul bought it himself. Most of her favorite products mysteriously appeared in his bathroom, as well as hygienic products most men would be running from. Inside his fridge, Y/N found her favorite food, his cabinets stocked with the best snacks they indulged in together.
By the end of the first month, Paul was invited to dinner with Y/N and her father. Despite her worries, her father didn’t seem so hostile to Paul – he noticed the happiness Paul brought to her life and encouraged them to see each other often. Paul even went fishing with her father for a weekend, giving her time to spend with Jacob.
“Feels like we barely saw each other this month”, Jacob complains as the end credits of the movie roll in. “Paul is selfish with you.”
Giving him a pointed look, Y/N shrugs. “I invited you a few times and you never came to hang out with us. I mean, Embry and Daisy came, Jared and Kim came a few times.”
“Yeah, it was an imprint sorta dinner”, Jacob replies begrudgingly.
“No”, Y/N frowns. “It was for friends. I wanted to get to know them better and I also wanted you there.”
“I’d have been the only one sitting alone.”
“You’d sit with me and Paul”, Y/N corrects him.
“No offense, Y/N, but I’d rather not sit between the two of you.”
Taken aback, she moves to sit on the coffee table in front of Jacob. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You two are a romcom come to life!”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
Sighing, Jacob licks his lips. “Look, I’m happy you’re happy, but you can’t expect me to enjoy it all.”
“I’m confused”, she frowns. “I know you said you have some feelings for me and we’ve agreed it’s probably nothing to be stuck on.”
“You agreed”, Jacob reminds her.
Huffing, she rubs her temples. “You have an imprint.”
“Does it matter?” Shrugging, Jacob pinches the bridge of his nose as he leans his elbows on his knees and closes his eyes. “I watched you be in love with Embry for most of our childhood and now I’m watching you with your soulmate and both times I’ve loved you. I think a part of me always will and it’s really hard to get over someone like you.”
“Jake”, she tries but he’s quick on his feet, creating some distance between them.
“I mean it. And I especially mean the part about being happy for you. It feels so fucking good to see you’re happy, just sucks knowing I’m not the reason why but that’s my problem and not yours.”
“Kinda feels like mine when my best friend is heartbroken and I seem to be at the center of it”, Y/N remarks bitterly. “I thought most of it were jokes…like when you said that if you could have a choice in imprinting you’d choose to imprint on me.”
“I meant it.” Jacob says almost immediately. “Renesmee is a nice girl, goddess like beauty but she’s not you.”
“You’re idolizing me because we’ve never been in a romantic relationship, but I’d drive you insane and we both know it.”
“I’d love you despite it.”
Shaking her head, she gnaws on her lower lip. “If we dated, it would have never worked. We fit so well as friends because all that’s missing we’ve gotten from others. Even when I had a crush on you at times, I knew it wasn’t sustainable.”
“Why”, Jacobs leans on the couch. “Why is loving me so unfathomable for you?”
“Because my heart never fluttered when you’d look at me, not the way it was meant to. Because I’d only lose my breath when you made me laugh too much, but never at the mere sight of you and you made me smile all the time when no one else could, but I never smiled just because you crossed my mind and when I imagined a future with you, playfully, I never saw myself in a wedding gown, I thought of you as an uncle to my kids, as the person I could go to no matter how bad things get because YOU ARE MY PERSON and I can’t imagine it being anything other than that. You’re the safest heart I can turn to, because even when I fight with Paul, you are the one I can say anything to and know it will never leave you lips to another.”
“How is none of that a base for a love story?” Jacob’s head hangs low.
Shaking her head, she shrugs in defeat. “Because in the end, I’ve always considered you as family. I would confuse those feelings for something more on occasion, mostly ‘cause I had nothing else to compare them to, but now I do and…It’s incomparable. What I feel for Paul, I can’t explain in words, but my heart is overflowing with love I never knew I was capable of feeling and the imprint bond gave me strength to embrace it and to stop beating myself about the fact I fell for Paul fucking Lahote.”
Swallowing thickly, Jacob nods. “I don’t feel that way for anyone but you. But I promise it won’t be a problem.”
“It hurts me to know you’re hurt.”
“Don’t”, a faint smile appears, “I’ll survive.”
“What about Renesmee?”
“She’s a kid, despite the way she looks, she’s way too young for me to even consider getting involved and it’s fucking weird when you see someone growing up. I don’t think I’ll ever want more with her.”
“If she decides she wants more?” Y/N moves back to the couch. “What happens then? Do you even have a choice?”
“I don’t know”, Jacob admits. “According to the stories, I don’t, but I’m hoping it’s not true.”
“It’s so fucked up”, Y/N murmurs. “I always wonder if I sometimes do that kind of stuff to Paul. I don’t want to infringe his ability to choose what’s best for him.”
“That’s why he hated the idea of imprinting”, Jacob tells her. “Paul despised the idea of someone having the power to force him into doing things he doesn’t want.”
Looking down at her fidgeting fingers, Y/N’s frown deepens. “Do I do that?”
“No”, Jacob reassures her. “I’ve seen you guilt trip him into cleaning the dishes a few times, or grabbing some food you wanted but never anything malicious or too different from what a normal girlfriend would do with her boyfriend.”
“I know he’s keeping something from me”, Y/N’s lips tremble. “I promised him not to press him on it, but you know”, she raises a brow as her eyes meet Jacob’s. “Don’t you?”
Jacob nods. “You have the power to force him to tell you, but you didn’t.”
“There must be a reason why he’s keeping it a secret. But I have to ask you”, she begins.
“Please, don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because even without the soulmate bond, I would do anything for you.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, she tucks her hair behind her ears. “Just tell me one thing”, she bites her lower lip as her eyes fall to Jacob’s hands. “Is it bad?” Training her eyes back on Jacob’s nervous smile, her lips press in a thin line.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“The truth. Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“It’s bad”, Jacob confirms. “Trust in him as you’ve done so far.”
Closing her eyes, she nods. “I’m scared.”
“Trust in him”, Jacob repeats. “He’d never let anything happen to you.”
“Like you’d never let anything happen to your imprint?” Y/N’s eyes open. “Why are you so far away from her then?”
“Because she asked me to come see you when I told her of the situation we had here.”
Pursing her lips, Y/N leans her head back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Neither speak for a few minutes, sitting with their thoughts until Y/N dares to ask.
“Does it mean you’ll leave when she calls?”
The silence that follows is answer enough for Y/N but when Jacob speaks her heart cracks open once more.
“She called this morning.”
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Tags: @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @llovergirlll @adaydreamaway08 @sunsetevergreen @volturiwolf @twihard08 @galacticstxrdust @sorrow-and-bliss @ireadthensuetheauthors @missxmarvelous @locokoca @unstablekay @makhaia @venusdelaroix @avadakadabra93 @tearsforhan @a-marie-a @lendeluxe @seagulls-corner @jdbxws @jakesullys-bitch @rottenstyx @itsmytimetoodream @dreamerwasfound @convolutings @rachelccollier @thingfromlove @jennyamanda8 @havecourage-darling @luvr-exe @alittlejudgemental @turningtoclown @vikingsheart12 @emptydoorsandpaintedwindows @marvelmenarebeautiful @bringmethe-world @alitaar @sugasthreedollarkookie @chloe-skywalker @heyheyheyggg @feral-ratatattat-king @pillowjj @queereddie @fandomrulesall-blog @queenotaku27 @dcgoddess @lilac-crown @small-town-wayward-daughter @yourqueentp @boreddemigodd @dracoswifeandlokispet @felinegrate
PART 21
#paul lahote series#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote#twilight fandom#twilight fanfiction#twilight saga#twilight#twilight fic#paul lahote imagine#paul lahote fanfic#paul lahote fluff#paul lahote angst
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h. hi do u have any thoughts about levi / floch and if so may i hear them ^_^; .. relationship thoughts , perchance 🐺
YA <3 ..... sfw but no minors on my page pls
Levi
Levi is surprisingly an excellent baker…store bought desserts are often too sweet or artificial for his tastes so he just makes them himself and he’s really good at it! Baking for you easily becomes one of his love languages..
This can pose a slight problem when you sneak into the kitchen while he’s in the middle of his process and try to stick a finger in whatever batter/filling he’s mixing. He is SWATTING your hand away at the speed of light… giving you that disappointed, tired stare like “we literally talked about this :/”
He’s not a monster though—he’ll let you taste stuff if you just use a clean spoon! Keep the filthy mitts AWAY >:(
He’s into wordle lmao. And he doesn’t explicitly ask or state it but he expects you to do it with him everyday….it’s a collaborative project! He’ll be in the other room like “okay. I’m checking out the wordle now.” And if you just respond with an acknowledgment without dropping what you’re doing to come assist him he’ll peek his head in on you like… did you hear me? Im doing the wordle 😒! And you better make haste to go join him!
He spoils pets more than you…. & I think he’s seriously baffled that you’d wanna deny them human food. Gives you the straightest, most serious face and is like hey. your son is sad. he needs a piece of that sandwich. Looks at you like you just kicked a puppy in front of him when you say no.
You tease him for how particular he is about seemingly random things a lot… one day you bring up the cup holding thing and he sets his mug down like “Oh my god is this going to be a whole thing? It does not need to be.” You exhaust him!
If you’re ever sick he is concerned but also full hazmat suiting… Do not expect any kisses till you’re recovered and he is certain you’re not contagious. This man will wear a mask around you if you have a SNIFFLE. But he also is preparing soup, medicine, tea—whatever you may possibly need he has it ready…. He is an acts of service king of course he won’t leave you hanging.
Undefeated back rub giving KING. He’ll wear this bored expression like he’s thinking about something else while he absolutely DEMOLISHES any knots in your muscles…leaving you a comfortable jello consistency. It’s so routine for him—he knows the exact expression you’ll wear on your face before asking for a back rub and he’s gotten so familiar he’ll stop what he’s doing and motion for you to lay on the bed before you even get the words out.
He’s not shy asking you to play with his hair, especially because he knows you really enjoy it, but he will also ask you to wash your hands first….it’s nothing personal but he just watched you take your phone into the bathroom with you and he already showered tonight :/ It feels like a reasonable request.
His insomnia is annoying as hell when you just wanna fall asleep cuddling and stay cuddling all night. He’ll usually come cuddle for a bit when you fall asleep and occasionally he will fall asleep like that for a little while… but after at most an hour that man is sneaking back up to drink some tea and do paperwork or smth :/ Then he wakes up before you so bed empty in the morning :(
Floch (was scared bc u love him so i kept it brief )
Big banter enjoyer… This man is insanely sarcastic and dry and he loves when you’ll stick to the bit with him—he’s also never once shied away from teasing you for stupid stuff.
Oh thank god! I was really worried you’d remember the notebook you need for class today—What a close call 😮💨. Let’s head back.
Right! I’m just glad we’ll manage to miss the train because of it !
He gets really puffy under eye bags so you teach him hydrating and soothing skin care that’ll help. He ends up really liking your self care ideas… the next time you see him you’re walking in on Floch leaning back on a chair with cucumbers on his eyes wearing your robe and one of your headbands… he’s so zen at that moment he doesn’t even notice you taking his picture. It becomes a point of tension when you won’t delete it as your lock screen afterwards for weeks.
He will fight dirty to get you to do what he wants. Maybe you were thinking of joining some friends for a girl’s night out at the bar… Floch is prepared with your favorite movie and some persuasive words to make you remember how much you prefer staying in with him!
He will drop bad news in the form of doorknob confessions… like by the way my parents need to stay here this weekend! See ya. 🚶(leaves and turns off his phone)
He’ll make fun of you for the shows you’re into then be fully invested in them….. Fully pouts because you watched an episode of Fruits Basket without him like ???? He said he didn’t like it :/
#levi x reader#aot x reader#aot#floch x reader#I hope I did ur fav guy okay :// truly im not the most confident in writing his character (._.)#but I’m honored u even asked thank u sending u a big ole squeeze!!#also I’ve never done wordle so is that realistic?? who’s to say…….#levi is so me coded here tbh#aside from the giving pets human food >:-(
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A Second Chance at Life
Part 3 of A Second Chance at Love
Jack Daniels x female reader
Zach Wellison x female OC
Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+
Word Count: 22.7k
Warnings: Mentions of: homelessness, hunger, discrimination, human trafficking, past military service, classicism. Cursing, alcohol/food, awkward flirting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, just a touch of a praise kink.
Summary: Junior returns to Statesman after a mission with a civilian in tow. Ready to go to bat to Ginger to get Zach a place as a Statesman agent, it shouldn’t be surprising that the whole Daniels family is ready to adopt the young man as well. Especially Jack and his beloved wife’s youngest and most mischievous daughter. ✨This piece can absolutely be read as a stand alone!✨
Notes: Set 23 years after the original ‘A Second Chance at Love’, this part 3 is a celebration of TWO YEARS worth of writing collaborations between myself and absurdthirst. Keri is a divine angel of inspiration and a true friend and I truly don’t know what I would do without her. Thank you for being there through thick, thin, and everything in between. I would not be who I am without the friendship and support you’ve shown me over the last two years. 🧡🧡
Part 1 ~ Part 2
"Jack!" When the alert on your watch goes off letting you know that the Statesman jet is about to touch down, you fully abandon the tray of chips, dips, and appetizers that you were putting together on the kitchen counter and go to poke your head out onto the back deck where Jack is sitting with a glass of Statesman Reserve and a book. "Put the burgers on the grill, honey. I'm going to go pick up Junior from the jet and Janey should be over with the other kids soon."
Anytime Junior comes home from a mission, it's cause for celebration. The whole family descends on the big ranch house and a mountain of cheeseburgers gets demolished to welcome him back again. Your twin girls are grown now, beautiful young women in their own right who dote on and challenge their brother in equal measure, and Junior and Janey's three kids are finding their own footing in the world. The family you thought you had lost for such a long time has materialized around you and become something worthy of gratitude, and you have never taken a day for granted.
Retirement has its own set of challenges, just like getting old does. Groaning, his joints protest slightly as he sets the book down and rocks himself forward to push up out of the chair. “Yes ma’am.” He grunts, tossing you a craggy grin that isn’t quite as lecherous as it might have been about ten years before, but Jack Daniels is still a man who is besotted with his wife. “As long as you give me a kiss before you go.”
"Well, of course," you roll your eyes at him like he's crazy for even asking, but Jack hasn't taken a day for granted either. He still makes sure to show and tell you just how much he loves you every single day. Stepping out onto the deck, you wrap him up in a hug and inhale the familiar scent of his cologne with a grin before tipping your head back to kiss him. You move a little faster than he does these days but it's only because you've done a bit less damage to your body over the years – party planning not having been nearly as physical a job as being a secret agent. "I love you, sweetheart."
“I love you too, darlin’.” Jack promises, the kiss more tender than passionate, but the bone deep resignation of love carries through the simple gesture. “I’m throwin’ some extras on since the grandkids seem to be eatin’ everything in sight.”
“Tucker is trying to bulk up for senior year.” The way it makes you grin is the picture of grandmotherly indulgence. Your youngest grandchild - Junior and Janey’s younger son Tucker - had taken after his older brother in every way. Miles started playing football in middle school, so Tucker did also. Of course, now Miles is working on his medical degree and Tucker is about to start his senior year of high school. Time flies.
“Sounds like Tucker.” Jack shakes his head and pats your ass as you turn, pulling out of his arms. “I’ll even throw on a few of those veggie burgers on the grill for Sam.”
“I put two on a separate tray, and her vegan cheese.” Though the twins were born barely two minutes apart and have been basically inseparable their whole lives, Sam and Riley have grown into very individual women. Sam has joined the front of the Statesman Operation as a distiller, and recently jumped from simple vegetarianism into veganism in solidarity with her wife. So far the hardest transitions for her are actually for her family, and not for her at all. “You’re a good father, Jack. You know that.”
“Try to be.” Jack grins, thinking about the three children that he is damned proud to be called their father. “Never thought I’d ever be able to say that a few years ago.” He reminds you. “Gotta prove myself, to myself.”
“You’re a damn good daddy and a damn good granddaddy, too.” You pause for one more kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “I gotta go get Junior. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”
Jack chuckles and nods. “I won’t. You just now got it decorated the way you like it.” You are always redecorating or changing something and he loves it.
“It only took me twenty-three years.” Tossing him a cheeky grin, you head for the front door and grab your purse to go pick Junior up from the airstrip.
He knows why. For a long time, you still expected a knock to come. A phone call to tear you away from the life you had with him. Changing things up meant you could focus on a goal, a reminder you were still here. Jack hums, turning on the speakers and playing some music as he fires up the grill and moseys into the house to get the burgers.
******
“We should be on the ground in five minutes.” Junior checks his watch, forcing himself to stop pacing and down the rest of his drink so he can sit for the jet’s descent. He hasn’t technically broken any rules, having gotten the all-clear from Ginger Ale to go ahead and bring a civilian back to Statesman, but the knot in his stomach says that not everyone is going to like it. This man, though? This man saved his life. With astonishing skill, no less, and then turned out to be a military veteran with nowhere to turn. Jack Daniels Jr. has made plenty of sacrifices for his work or for his family, but he has never left someone helpless when he could be their helping hand. His mother taught him better than that.
Zach looks up at the man who has insisted that he come back with him to Kentucky, of all places. He can tell that he’s nervous. “Look, I can just— leave.” Zach offers, drying his hands on his borrowed jeans and shrugging. The streets of Kentucky can’t be too different from where he was. “You already bought me dinner.” All for picking up a weapon and pulling a trigger. It had been instinct. Seeing someone running through the park that was being chase by a group of armed men, he had leapt into action when one of the rifles had been dropped. Picking it up, aiming and pulling the trigger without a second thought.
"No, no, no." The Statesman agent shakes his head, telling himself to relax as he sits down across from the ex-Marine. His knee pops a little but that's a small complaint for a man old enough to have a grown daughter. "The thing is, Zach," he glances at the younger man from under his Stetson. "You've got faster reflexes than most - maybe all - of the recruits I've seen over the years. You said what you did was instinct, but those are some damn impressive instincts."
Zach snorts and shakes his head. “Preservation of self of what the psychologist told me.” Not that he had a lot of help after he got back stateside. Once he had his discharge papers it was ‘good luck and don’t let the door hit you’.
"It takes a strong character to still have a sense of self and not dissolve into apathy during hard times." He had come close to it himself, as a teenager in Witness Protection, but he had been lucky enough to have his mother to think about when he couldn't see to taking care of himself. Junior shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms together and looking straight ahead at the young man in front of him. "I'd like to offer you a job. Not one specific one, but Statesman is a big operation and there are a lot of different opportunities for someone like you." Does he have one specific job in mind? Of course. But being an agent isn't for everyone, and more than anything he just wants to help this man who saved his life.
“Why?” Zach’s suspicions are caused by the nearly three years he’s spent on the streets. Almost thirty years old and the only thing to his name is what is in his pack. Since leaving the military, not one damn person has offered him anything more than platitudes. “You don’t owe me anything.”
"I owe you my life," Junior tells him honestly. "But I'm afraid that would be a pretty shitty life to hand to you, all things considered. And my mama taught me not to give used gifts." He shrugs slightly, feeling the jet start to descend. "Military vets get dealt a raw fucking, deal, Zach. Pardon my language. You deserve to have a life you can be proud of."
Zach clenches his jaw, not answering that. It was true and it stung. He had gotten a raw deal, but he also knows that he’s too damn proud for charity. “You never told me what the hell got you into that situation.”
"My work." He has to stay intentionally vague until he can bring Zach to meet Ginger, and he knows that won't happen until after dinner. Dinner is mandatory. Even with nearly half his life spent in Kentucky with his father, he still never misses a family meal for anything short of a mission. "The man you shot would absolutely have tried to kill me if he'd gotten a hand on me. Unfortunately not the first time a man's tried that, but that's the life I chose."
The other man can’t help but snort at that. “Well, it looks like you get paid better than the military.” He says, looking around the sleek jet. “Swear I’ve heard of Statesman before.”
"Definitely get paid better than the military." Junior chuckles at that, topping his hat back. "Statesman is whiskey. Best sour mash in the world, bar none." It's so much more than that, but he can save that tidbit of information for later.
“And whiskey equals guns….” it’s not a question, because Zach feels like Jack won’t answer it. But something else is going on. “I’m not being kidnapped and forced to have genetic testing performed on me, am I?”
The specificity of the question is what makes Junior bust out laughing, and he shakes his head while he waves off the younger man's concern. "No, but my son is pre-med so if you start hearing a lot of gruesome talk out of him it's just academic curiosity, not a threat."
“Wow.” There’s an undercurrent of bitterness there that can’t be hidden, but it’s not directed towards Jack or his son. It’s more a shot at his own life choices that have obviously turned out so well. “You don’t look old enough to have a kid pre-med.”
"I appreciate that." Never one to deny being proud of his family, Junior straightens his back a little and unconsciously flexes the hand that bears his wedding ring. "Wife and I were young when we got married. Miles is actually the middle child." Like any proud father, he is immediately digging into his pocket for his wallet to show off pictures of his kids. Having gotten the all-clear to bring Zach back to Louisville, he knows that the young vet is going to meet his family anyway. No harm in showing him a photo a few minutes in advance. "There. That's my wife Janey, our oldest Becca, and the two boys are Miles and Tucker."
“You have a beautiful family.” Zach sincerely means that, a little envious at the happy family in the picture. He had always imagined that kind of life for himself, it had just never worked out.
"It isn't always easy, but hard work is worth it." He sits back again and slides his wallet into the pocket of his jacket. "Listen. I don't intend to force anything on you, or to tie you up into something that you're not happy with. That's not the point here." Loyalty at Statesman was earned through respect and hard work, not kidnapping. Although ironically there sometimes was a bit of light relocating involved - like with this flight. "If there isn't a job at Statesman that you think you can be happy with, then you go ahead and say so. I'll have this jet bring you wherever in the world you want to be dropped off and you can pretend you never met me or even heard of Louisville, Kentucky. Just give it a week to decide. Is that a deal?"
Zach looks around the plane again, aware that the shower he had taken an hour earlier was first hot shower he’s had in peace in a long time. The few times he could get a bed at the local shelter, the water was cold and he had worried about people stealing his meager belongings. “Doesn’t look like I have anywhere else to be.” Zach chuckles, lifting the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched before to his lips. Humming at the taste. “And this is good.”
When the jet touches down a few minutes later, the flight attendants have little to do but bid their passengers a good day and go about tidying up. Junior leads the way, chuckling softly to himself when he steps out onto the mobile stairs and sees the familiar black pickup truck waiting for him. The Bronco died years ago, but that has never stopped his father from having a truck. "Looks like our ride is here," he tells Zach, pointing down to the tarmac just as you pop out of the front seat to wave.
Zach frowns slightly, shuffling his bag over his shoulder and hums. “That’s your mom?” He asks, surprised because you certainly don’t look old enough to be his mother. But he has just seen a picture of Jack’s wife.
"My parents were high school sweethearts. I guess young love sort of runs in the family." With a hearty slap on the shoulder, Junior leads Zach down the stairs toward the truck and quickly shoots a text off to Ginger letting her know that they've landed and will be in to see her as soon as she wants.
"I only asked for a postcard from LA, Junior." Your instinct is to tease a little, knowing that whatever might have caused your son to bring home a civilian and not immediately sweep them off to Ginger's office to be debriefed must be quite a story. Keeping things lighthearted until you know more details is really all you can do considering the classified nature of Junior's work as Agent Absinthe. "Looks like you brought home a friend instead?"
“Mom, this is Zach Wellison.” Junior rests his hand on the other man’s shoulder, feeling the way it rounds slightly in self-consciousness, even though he is wearing a clean set of clothes from Junior’s own bag, with the promise that his own clothes would be cleaned as soon as possible. He introduces Zach to you, telling him your name. “Zach pulled my ass out of the fire, and I decided he would be a damn good fit at Statesman.”
"Well that's a hell of a compliment." The polite thing would be to offer him a handshake, but hearing that this man saved your son's life has you offering him a grateful hug instead – the instinct of a mother still very attached to her son after going through so much together. "Are you hungry, Zach? We've got burgers on the grill at home and all kinds of things to go with them. Family dinner always includes a brave man."
“I don’t want to impose.” The snacks on the plane hadn’t been touched but there’s no mistaking the grumble of his stomach when you mention burgers. It’s been a few days since he’s had a proper meal.
"It's not an imposition at all. I insist." You urge them toward the truck, which has more than enough room for the three of you, and smile when your son tosses his bag in the back without hesitation. "Junior, text your sisters and let them know you're back? I swear getting Sam away from the stills is like pulling teeth these days and your father is making her veggie burgers without a fuss tonight."
“Damn. Junior whistles, sounding impressed. He waggles his brows. “That’s something akin to a miracle.” He tosses Zach a grin. “Dad is a ‘meat is king’ kinda guy. And grillin’ is his specialty. Making veggies burgers hurts his soul.”
The three of you climb into the truck and head for home. It's a short drive with the ranch being just outside of Statesman property, but it's enough for you to note that the civilian your son has brought home with fairly quiet but highly alert. He seems to notice everything but only takes it in without comment. You chat about light things for a little while before refocusing your attention on your visitor. "Are you from California originally, Zach?"
“Yes ma’am.” Zach answers quietly, finding the lush green hills in the background very tranquil. “Sacramento area originally.”
The ma'am catches your attention and you glance over at your son while you drive. "Sacramento's Army and Air Force country, isn't it?" You ask, though you know your casual tone doesn't erase the point of the question.
“I was a Marine.” He snorts, smirking slightly before he remembers there’s nothing to actually be proud about anymore. “Went against tradition.”
"Junior's father was a Navy pilot. Seems like every branch has its ups and downs, but we honour service in our family. Thank you for yours." Though you get the sense from his reaction that he might not be too glad about the decision in hindsight, you would just consider his sacrifices all the more worth recognizing because of it. "How long have you been stateside, if you don't mind my asking?"
“Three years, five months and six days.” Zach supplies easily, having kept up with the time since he had been discharged eight months after he had come back from his final deployment. “Ma’am.”
"Well, you'll still find plenty of 'sir' and 'ma'am' around here and plenty of folks following orders, but Statesman is a lot more laid back than service, thank goodness. And the food is infinitely better."
"Does that mean you made cobbler?" Junior asks, sitting up in his seat like he's suddenly twelve again as he looks over at Zach. "She makes a blueberry and peach cobbler that I swear must have magic in it."
The compliment is sweet, if a little overblown, but you nod as you drive. "I made it with vegan butter for your sister, but don't tell anybody until they start eating it. I want to see if anyone notices."
“You know dad will taste the difference.” Junior laughs and shakes his head. “He swears he can taste the chemicals.”
"He swears up and down," you agree to that, but the smile on your face turns sly. "But I made shrimp and grits last night with vegan butter and oat milk and he had seconds."
Junior grins and looks back at Zach. “My younger sister’s wife is vegan and she just went down the rabbit hole with her. Hence the recipe changes.”
"We just want to make sure Vanessa and Sam are always able to eat with family." Not to mention that your whole family adores Vanessa and were glad to welcome her into the family. Having Sam marry so early was only a minimal surprise. After all, like Junior had told Zach earlier, young love runs in your family.
“You said you had two sisters. Twins?” He asks, wanting to keep everyone straight. “So you have three kids and three grandchildren?” That question is directed towards you.
"Exactly right." Directing the car off the highway toward the ranch, you nod to your son's guest and smile. "We had Junior right after we were married, and his sisters quite a while later. Sam and Riley are around the same age as our grandkids - that's Junior and Janey's three. Actually, the twins and their niece Becca were all born the same year."
Eyes widening in surprise, Zach absorbs the idea that the younger sisters of Junior are younger than he is. “Wow.”
"It's unconventional." You can admit that readily, and you love your big family full of very different and very strong personalities. "But it works for us." In the distance, the top of the ranch house comes into view and you point it out on the tree line. "There's the ranch. We'll be home in no time."
The house is big, and gorgeous. He’s awestruck by the larger house, then the slightly smaller one just a few hundred feet away. “Is it a working ranch?” Zach asks, seeing horses out in pastures. All of this speaks of a lot of money.
"Small, but yes." It makes you shake your head as you turn down the long road that is your driveway. "My husband decided he wanted to retire from his main career on the early side and amp up the ranch work. There's a bit of breeding and sale, but we also have a stable for show horses and teachers that give lessons."
“What did your husband do? After he got out of the Navy?”
Your eyes tick quickly up to the rear-view mirror to see your son subtly shake his head. A civilian answer, then. “He worked for Statesman.” You tell Zach. “From security guard all the way up to CEO.”
“CEO?” No wonder they have a ranch. “That’s impressive.” There’s more that’s not being said, but it’s not his place to ask.
“Things were hard for us in the beginning, so we make sure that we never turn anyone away.” Which is, you suspect, why Zach is here with Junior. The former military man is wearing your son’s clothes, after all. That is a fairly large clue.
Zach’s mouth snaps shut, shame and the anger from that shame nearly making him ask you to stop the truck. He doesn’t want pity and he’ll be damned if he has anyone look down on him for his circumstances.
There are a half dozen cars in the driveway by the main house when you park the truck, all telling you that you’re the last to arrive. A group of three is passing a frisbee in the yard and music is pouring out of hidden speakers, but the real commotion is out in the back deck where your kids and grandkids are digging into appetizers like there’s no tomorrow and the twins are in the middle of a hot debate with their father at the grill. This is as much a family party as it is any regular Sunday - it just so happens that your Sundays usually turn into parties when everybody is able to show up.
Zach climbs out of the pickup, hanging back as if he is hesitant to get near. This is obviously a family function and he doesn’t belong here.
“Come on,” Junior doesn’t let him shrink away, one hand patting his shoulder but not pushing. “There’s always at least a couple of friends at these things.” To prove his point, he directs Zach’s attention to the frisbee players. “That’s my oldest and my youngest. But the third kid is somebody my youngest knows from school. Couldn’t tell you the kid’s name if I tried, but he comes around sometimes. And playing with the dog? That’s one of the guys my wife and daughter work with. I promise I didn’t bring you into the middle of something I thought would be awkward.”
“I don’t know.” Zach huffs. “I don’t want to intrude. Just— point me towards Statesman and I’ll walk and tour the grounds.” He smirks sardonically. “I’m an outdoors specialist after all.”
“We’ll go after dinner,” Junior promises, fully ignoring the joke made at Zach’s own expense. “You want a drink? I don’t know what else is here but there’s always cold beer and good whiskey.”
It’s been so damn long since Zach’s had a cold beer in a relaxed atmosphere. He nearly drools at the thought. “Yeah— I guess a beer will be alright.” He concedes. “Just one.”
“Sure thing.” Leading Zach through the yard behind you, Junior stops to say hi to Janey and the frisbee players, introducing Zach as he goes. There are handshakes and greetings and hugs all around, and you make it up on to the porch to say hello to your girls before they make it halfway through the yard.
“Jay brought home a civilian?” Sam asks quietly, sipping her whiskey as she watches them closely. The girls had long-since picked up on Janey’s nickname for their brother and liked it better than calling him Jack or Junior.
“Yes he did,” you nod and turn to hug Riley next. “And I haven’t gotten the whole story yet, so be nice.”
“We’re always nice, Mom.” Riley contends, although there is a smirk in the corner of her mouth when she says it.
Sam snorts. “Yeah? Since when?” Riley is older by two minutes and she never misses an opportunity to remind Sam of that fact. “Where you nice when you told that old breeder to go choke on a horse co—”
“Okaaaaaaaay.” Riley interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I’m nice.” She huffs dramatically. “But that old bastard deserved that.” She contends.
That earns a laugh from you and Jack, who both disliked that particular breeder despite his good work. It was a blessing to be rid of him. “Here,” you hum, handing off two bottles of beer from the cooler to your younger daughter. “Go say hi to your brother.” “Yes ma’am,” she chuckles, accepting the bottles and grabbing the magnetic bottle opener from the side of the grill. “Jaaaaay!” She calls out, trotting down the steps with drinks in hand. "I've got beeeer!"
Turning automatically to the sound of someone shouting, at first Zach is anticipating anger. Until he catches the face of the woman practically racing for him and Junior— not Jack like he had introduced himself as after the firefight. His heart leaps up into his throat and he swears he nearly stops breathing, she’s so pretty and carefree.
"Thanks, Ri." Junior takes both bottles and offers one to Zach, not missing the slightly dumbstruck look on his new acquaintance's face at all. "Riley, this is my new friend Zach." He nods to his sister, miraculously without smirking. "Zach, Riley is the younger of the twins. My baby sister."
"Nice to meet you, Zach." She offers the new arrival her hand brightly, cheery vibrancy making a good cover for how hard her heart starts pounding when he looks up and meets her eyes. His irises are the colour of freshly brewed coffee and his jaw looks like it was cut by a Grecian master sculptor, making Riley practically gulp down a breath. "I—um—it's...I mean...welcome."
“Hi.” Zach takes the beer up to his lips to hide the small smile that Riley managed to bring out. “So your ‘Jay’s’ sister?” He asks before he turns towards the other man. “How many damn names do you have?”
"Three." He shrugs, except the answer is actually four. Agent Absinthe isn't exactly a nickname so much as a title and it's not one used outside of work. "Jack Daniels Junior gives two out of the three. My wife and sisters call me Jay."
“I see.” Zach raises a brow, nodding at the obvious. “So I’m guessing that your father is Jack Senior?”
"Found where all fathers can be found," Riley smirks and points up at the deck where the grill is the center of all activity. "At the grill. But if you guys want any of the salsa or guac that Mom made you better get in there. Tucker brought a friend and teenage boys are bottomless pits."
As much as Zach’s stomach rumbles at the thought of fresh salsa and guacamole, he nods politely and sips his beer. “Thanks.”
"You guys make friends, I'll be right back." Junior glances between his sister and his potential recruit with a twinkle of amusement before he nods and makes off in the direction of the deck.
Shuffling slightly, Zach glances her way, struck again by how pretty she is before he reminds himself there is no way this woman would be interested in him. “So did you grow up here?” He asks, rolling his eyes as soon as it comes out of his mouth. What a dumb fucking question.
Riley catches the way he rolls his eyes at himself and grins, smothering a very uncharacteristic giggle. "That's my room in the top floor corner." She points, indicating the set of windows with linen-colored curtains in it. "Kentucky born and raised, unlike my brother. But my guess is you're not from around here? Since you came home on the jet with Jay, I mean." For some reason the ability to form an original or interesting question has escaped her, but that's probably from the man beside her.
“California.” Zach bobbles his head, glancing up at the window, wondering if it was a nice view out of the window. It must have been to grow up in a place like this.
"I've never been." And why that makes her dig the toe of her boot into the grass is completely beyond her. "It looks pretty in the movies, though. For whatever that's worth, she's definitely not at the top of her game tonight.
“Don’t bother.” Zach huffs. “It might be nice to visit some areas.”
"Not a big fan of California, got it." She nods and shoves one hand into the pocket of her jeans while she takes a sip of her beer. "Well...maybe you'll like Kentucky better?"
“Sorry.” His shoulders roll back, aware he’s sounding like a complete asshole. “The last few years haven’t been the best, so I guess I’m bitter.” That’s putting it mildly, but she wants small talk, not a pity party.
"I'm sorry to hear that." It pulls her attention, though, bringing her eyes up from her toes to find his. "I know we just met, but if you need to vent or whatever..." she shrugs, hearing exactly how strong she's coming on, but there's no chance he would ever be interested in her. It's just being friendly to someone that her older brother brought back from a mission. And it's not like that had happened more than one other time ever.
“You don’t want to hear about it.” Zach huffs. “But thanks. It’s a nice thought.” In what way could this beautiful, rich girl ever commiserate with him? He shrugs. “Junior said to come to Kentucky, and I had nothing better to do. Might not work out. Rarely does.”
"I hate to admit it, but my brother is rarely wrong," she admits, sipping her beer again. "When he has an instinct about a person he's right about ninety-five percent of the time." He had certainly been right about the last guy she'd brought home to meet the family, a fact which stings a little and makes her frown instinctively before she quickly recovers. "Well...come on, Zach from California. Nothing helps smooth over meeting new people like alcohol and food, and we can make both of those things happen."
He hadn’t been going to approach the food by himself, so being dragged over helps. You are standing next to an older version of Jack, so much so that Zach has to blink. Hanging on to his arm and laughing like the picture-perfect family. “You know, being from Kentucky, you don’t have an accent.”
"Yeah, it, uh...it turns out that if you go to a college in New York City to be an engineer and you're a cowboy boot wearing Southern girl with a country accent, nobody takes you seriously." The way Riley rolls her eyes is an obvious cover for a deeper hurt, but she taps her boots on the stairs as they walk up to the food. "I phased it out pretty quickly during freshman year. Not that it eliminated the problem of people assuming girls can't do math, but at least it lessoned the jokes a little."
“Shit. Girls are a shit ton smarter than guys.” Zach snorts then shakes his head. “Sorry about the language.”
"Please, I'm not delicate. Swear all you want." As if to prove it, she scoops up a chip full of guacamole and crunches down with a happy moan of contentment.
An innocent moan over a chip and guac shouldn’t make him think pornographic thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about what he could do that would make her make that sound, but it does. He’s lucky that he wasn’t drinking, otherwise he would have choked to death on beer. His cock twitches in extreme interest and he swallows harshly.
“Seriously, try some,” Riley urges. It’s not like she’s oblivious, but she also doesn’t fully process that the hungry look on Zach’s face is more about her and less about the food.
“O-okay.” Zach moves over to grab a chip, anything to take his mind off the way she sounded.
It doesn’t help that she reaches for another chip at the same time, unleashing the sound all over again right before Zach takes a bite. If she had had any idea of how drastic his reaction was, though? Well…she probably would have closed her eyes and tilted her head back just to give him a good visual along with the sound. Zach chokes on the chip, coughing and sputtering as the damn corn chip threatens to go down the wrong pipe. Making him slap himself on the chest as his eyes water and he coughs.
“Oh shit, are you okay?” Riley doesn’t really have a panic button but she cringes internally at his reaction and gives his back a gentle rub after he stops coughing. “No dying on us, okay? Miles is only pre-med, he’s not prepared to save lives just yet.”
“S-sorry.” He manages, coughing again one last time and taking a hasty sip of his beer. “Got caught in my throat.”
“Maybe pointy foods aren’t prime for you,” she jokes, more teasing herself with realizing exactly how broad Zach’s shoulders are than him over the chip thing.
“Maybe.” He can’t help but chuckle, even though he is kicking himself over the faux pas. His shoulder tingles where her hand is resting, making him feel like he’s being shocked.
“Better now?” Resisting the urge to offer him mouth to mouth if he should ever need it, Riley clears her throat as little and grins. “That’s alright. Swallowing is hard,” she teases, managing to continue to look completely innocent.
Zach blows out a breathe, the scandalous comment about what she can swallow on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say that. Surprised that he’s even thinking it. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s really thought about sex beyond some distant memory.
“Cat got your tongue?” Her eyebrow ticks up in curiosity.
“Apparently.” Zach grunts, rolling his eyes at himself again. “Just, trying to breathe without incident.”
“Right. Sorry.” Riley sags a little against the porch railing, feeling embarrassed. Just because she’s all hot and bothered over him doesn’t mean he is over her – and she has to remember that, since it seems like she’s the only member of the Daniels family born without the flirting gene.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” Zach frowns slightly, not liking the way that she seemingly deflates in front of him. “How embarrassing would it be to survive war zones and die by a chip? I could never show my face in hell.”
“War zones?” That seems to perk her ears up, and her head tilts slightly. Curiosity is certainly one thing the Daniels kids have in spades. “You’re a vet?”
“Yeah.” Does everyone in this family like military? “Marines. Or used to be.”
“I almost went Navy,” she admits with her signature shrug. “Like my Dad. Went through a recruiter and everything. It was exciting, I was going to go right out of high school. When I went to get checked out…turns out I had some health issues we had no idea about. So I got to go get made fun of in engineering school instead.”
“I’m sorry.” Not that he believes she needed to be in the military, but it’s always crushing to learn you can’t do what you want. “I’m sure engineering is better than having creaky joints at twenty-five.”
“Everybody ends up where they’re supposed to be eventually, right?” She can sense that maybe she’s hit a sore spot, and Riley picks up her beer again wondering if maybe she just talks way too damn much.
“You could say that.” He was meant to be on the street, fuck, what a depressing thought. She doesn’t know that though, unless Junior has already told her. “So what do you do at Statesman?”
“Research and development.” Her actual work right now is in gadgets and equipment, but for the sake of the distillery’s cover story she could talk about things like the distilling process and the chemical complexities of whiskey. Everyone in the family could. “I do the science and then my twin sister does the actual brewing.”
“Hmmmm.” Zach has his doubts that a brewery is all that is going on. There’s too much that is left unsaid between Junior and his mother. Still, he takes another sip of his beer. “So isn’t this like…drinking the competition?” He asks, titling the bottle up in the air.
“If we brewed beer, sure.” The question makes Riley’s lip curl into an amused grin, though, and she takes the last swig from her own bottle. “Statesman is purely a whiskey operation, so it’s more like…embracing the community.”
"Ohhhhh." He knows that, but it's a way to extend the moment. Enjoying the slightly disjointed conversation.
“We grew up with whiskey like some people grow up with a favorite cereal.” By now it’s obvious that Riley’s most frequent gesture while she talks is to shrug. Almost as if she’s afraid of being taken too seriously or inconveniencing someone with talking too much.
“That’s cool though.” Zach insists. “I know about how to get drunk, even if I haven’t done that for years.”
"We can definitely make that happen, if you want to." After all, it's not like they don't always have an abundance of bottles of different kinds in the house. "Actually the bottle room in the cellar is pretty cool. I just upgraded the atmospheric controls about a month ago so."
“You have a bottle room in your house?” Zach’s eyes blow wide, unable to even think about that kind of luxury. The differences are stark and he’s starting to wonder if he will fit in here just working.
"Yeah, it's super fuckin' cool actually—" She flusters, setting down her empty bottle and motioning to the house. "Do you want to see? It's actually a really cool house. The whole story behind it is cute and everything."
It doesn’t sound like she is bragging, and that’s the only reason why Zach nods. “Okay.” He agrees, looking down to check to make sure there isn’t anything on him that he might dirty up the house with.
"My dad basically built the place himself." Through the porch door and into the kitchen, Riley wipes a little nervous sweat from her palms onto her jeans and shuts the door behind them. No one will even notice they're gone, she reasons, and Jay brought this guy home. So clearly she's just being friendly. Just friendly. Right. That's why she's telling him her parents' love story - because it's totally normal and friendly. "My parents were apart for a long time. Mom got mixed up in a mob thing when she was pregnant with Jay and they were in WITSEC for twenty plus years. Dad built their dream house as a kind of tribute to her. And then when they found each other again they started adding a few more things to the house here and there."
“That’s…wow. So your dad thought they were dead?” It explains the age gap between Junior and the twins. “That’s amazing and horrible.”
"Yeah, it was..." Riley shrugs as she leads him into the house, pointing out little things and pausing in front of a wall of wedding photos in the main hallway. Two photos of her parents, one of her brother and Janey, and then Sam and Vanessa's wedding photo from just last year. She's the only one missing from the wall now, but she pushes away the swimming dread that that thought conjures in her belly. "Dad talks about it like it was such a dark period for him. But they're so perfect together, I can't even imagine what they would be like apart. Either way, um...yeah. That's how the house came to be. The...the cellar is this way."
Zach glances at the photos, the ones of her parents’ wedding were obviously at different times. He had to assume one was the original and another, your father looking older and more distinguished, was a vow renewal of some sort. He’s notices she isn’t in a wedding photo of a bride and groom, having clocked the lack of ring on her hand. Not that it mattered, he just noticed. “Lead the way.”
The cellar is fully furnished, having become a playroom when the twins were little and then a dance studio for the two years they took lessons, then a practice room for their high school rock band after that – at which point it had happily been soundproofed. Now it is a games room with a card table and pool table, a large sofa, and a bar built into one wall that stood next to the glass door of the temperature-controlled bottle room. In most houses this would be a wine cellar, but not the Daniels house. This is a glorified whiskey showroom, with a few other things collected over time. Riley punches a code into the panel on the wall and shoots Zach a grin before the panel chirps and the door hisses to indicate it’s unlocked. “Come on in. It’ll be cool inside at first. Like how walking into an air conditioned building in summer makes you feel freezing for about five minutes. But this lasts about a minute max.”
“Holy shit.” Zach eyes widen at the causal luxury and the comfort that seems to be in the game room. Then the sophistication of the whiskey room. “This is better protected than most state secrets.”
"Thank you." Riley fully beams, her shoulders doing a happy little wiggle as she grins. "I designed the system and built it myself."
“This is what you do?” He’s impressed. Looking around and admiring the security. “This is damn good.”
"My sister makes the booze, and I protect it," she laughs lightly. In actuality, she worked like a cowgirl version of James Bond's Q, developing new tech that would help keep Statesman's agents safe in the field - but that's not exactly the kind of thing she can tell this new arrival. Her status as Agent Grenadine needed to stay tightly under wraps just like her brother's active field agent status and her father's former identity as Agent Whiskey. She'll take the compliment, though, enjoying the way it warms through her as they look around the bottle room together.
“So it’s a family operation.” Family is something that Zach hasn’t had in a long time. The men he called brothers had all drifted off, moved on with their lives while he had been stuck in a horrible rut.
"Sort of." He gets a nod from her as she traces her lingers along the label of a limited release bottle produced the year she was born. "There's a lot more than just our family involved, but yeah. Statesman is definitely tight-knit. Once we let somebody in..." She offers him a half-smile, knowing that Jay never would have brought him back to the house if he didn't like the guy or intend on bringing him into things eventually. "That's sort of it. You're family."
He shuffles slightly, aware that she’s trying to tell him something but he can’t quite believe it. Maybe the mangy stray dog that someone takes mercy on. Not family. “Sounds nice.” He admits quietly.
"So far nobody's run away screaming," Riley jokes, laughing awkwardly under her breath.
“With all the liquor, no one would be able to run a straight line.” Zach jokes, laughing slightly.
Riley snorts, hand barely making it up to her mouth to smother the sound, and ends up stifling a torrent of giggles in the process. All she can visualize is her beautiful, proper, and upstanding niece Becca trying to run away tipsy and it’s the funniest goddamn thing she could possibly imagine. So much so that it basically has her sagging against the wall. “That’s—” She cackles once more, trying to catch her breath. “That’s an excellent visual.”
Zach grins, the sight of her laughing at something he said is probably the most beautiful damn thing he’s ever seen. “You drink enough and tell me you can run straight. We used to drink all night and PT still drunk and it looked like we were bobbing and weaving enemy fire.”
"You paint a very vivid picture, Zach." She straight out giggles again. "And suddenly the idea of drunk PT is making me very glad I didn't end up serving."
“Yeah…” he shuffles again and gives a half grin. “It was interesting. Corporal Ivers said the beer shits motivated you to run faster.”
"I mean, I can definitely see that." From one of the racks built into the walls, Riley pulls a bottle of Statesman Blue Label - a bottle frequently shared in the Daniels family between friends or a family events. Since today sort of seems like both, it's sort of a safe choice to bring upstairs. "Have you ever had Statesman before?" She asks, not realizing her own unconscious attempt at stalling down here.
“No?” Zach admits with a small shrug. “Don’t know if I’ve really seen any besides the commercials. What kinds do you have?”
"We've got a couple of open bottles down here if you want to try?" Out in the main room, there is a bar with partial bottles worth looking through. "The Blue Label is a family favourite, but the Reserve is really good and there's a bottle of 2014 Select out there that was a really good batch. Notes of maple and vanilla with this cedar smokiness that makes me feel like I'm at a campfire in the woods every time."
“I’m really good at camping.” Zach is completely ironic and un-ironic at the same time. Camping was a part of life in the military, but the urban camping was the real adventure.
“Come on, then.” Feeling confident enough in herself to nab his hand to lead Zach out into the main room again, Riley still doesn’t look back at his face as she goes just in case he reacts poorly to the innocently flirtatious move. It’s not like she pinned him against a wall and stuck her tongue down his throat, but little touches can all add up to something fun. And Zach is extremely cute.
Shocked that she is holding his hand, Zach lets her lead him out of the whiskey room. Knowing that if she knew what he was, she would probably turn her nose up at him, he tries to just enjoy the moment. Huffing slightly as she yanks him forward. “I’m hurrying.” He promises, wondering what it is about her that relaxes him.
When he doesn’t pull away from her Riley allows herself a silent thrill and decides to open the decanter of 2014 Select and pour their shots with one hand. “Close your eyes and think of sneaking a flask into summer camp,” she tells him, offering him one of the shot glasses. Whether he chooses to shoot or sip, it’s going to be delicious either way.
“Sláinte” Zach offers, nodding to her before he puts the glass to his lips and tosses his head back. Letting the cooler than room temperature whiskey slide down his throat.
“Cheers.” This is the one time she does look him directly in the eye, remembering Jay teasing her about how you have to look someone in the eye when you drink with them or it’s seven years bad sex.
“That is….” Zach feels the burn, the warm heat sliding down his throat, but the normal wince doesn’t come. “Smooth.” He murmurs, looking at the shot glass and then back to her. “Damned smooth.”
“Isn’t it incredible?” There’s a reason this one is her favorite. It’s the ultimate hug, in Riley’s opinion. “When Sam and I turned twenty-one, we made s’mores shots with it.”
“S’mores shots, huh?” Zach huffs and shakes his head. She made drinks out of this instead of just drinking it? “Sounds fun.”
“We were twenty-one,” Riley shrugs like it was a long time ago when she sees the doubt in his eyes. “Everything had to have chocolate in it in order to be good.”
“Chocolate is good at any age.” Zach argues, although it’s been a long time since he’s had chocolate.
“You’re not wrong.” She smiles a little, feeling silly for all of this — this whole attempt to flirt a little or whatever the hell it is she’s been doing. Riley clears her throat, pouring them each another shot and handing him his glass.
“Thanks.” Zach murmurs, feeling his heart race when their fingers brush. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been offered a drink and a nice evening.”
There’s a moment where she could swear she sees him gulp down a breath, but it’s probably wishful thinking. Just projecting her own attraction onto him. Even so, she flusters at the sentiment. “Any time,” Riley murmurs with a grin. “Any time at all.”
“To—” Zach completely blanks out, the idea of saying something charming and witty completely failing him. He doesn’t flirt, or at least, he hadn’t in a long time. “Not choking to death on a chip.” He manages with a roll of his eyes.
Riley grins, letting out a small giggle at that, and holds up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
At least she hadn’t thought he was completely insane. The tips of the shot glasses clink together and Zach feels the way his entire body relaxes as the next shot goes down even smoother than the first. Riley hums at the warmth as it spreads through her limbs, just letting her enjoy the moment for what it is. Brand new attraction is something to relish after all, even if it’s fleeting or one sided. Nothing is more fun than feeling those first tugs of want.
Zach leans in, about to make a comment about how good it feels to relax when the door upstairs opens. Making him stiffen and rocks back to put the proper space between them again. Reminding himself that he’s a guest, one that is a surprise. “Ri? You down here sweetheart?” The voice of her father comes down the stairs as boots descend and Zach can hear the censure in his voice. Asking why she’s alone with the homeless man his son had dragged back to their picture-perfect home. Maybe even wondering if he’s pocketed something valuable down here.
"Just showing Zach the cellar, Dad!" Riley calls back, almost straight out laughing to herself at the timing. Right as Zach was starting to relax and she had discovered that gorgeous dimple in his cheek, her father's tingling Spy Sense had gone off. "Is dinner ready?"
“Yeah everything’s ready.” Jack descends to where he can see his daughter and the newcomer. “Let’s go eat so Junior can take Zach to Ginger.”
"Sure thing." The drawn look of suspicion on his face lightens when Riley doesn't protest or try to stall, setting down her shot glass and nodding toward the stairs for Zach to follow. After all, it's not as though she was really trying to seduce him. She wouldn't have been mad about it, but she wasn't really trying.
Jack watches the boy – man – he’s not a boy. It’s almost visible the way that his guard goes up, nearly making Jack relax slightly. There’s something about him that he wants to nurture, protect. Like he was one of his own kids. Junior told him quietly about the vet saving his skin, how he had been sleeping in the park that Junior had been chased through. His heart was compassionate, but still, where his children are concerned - he’s cautious. “Hope you like burgers.” He offers. “Plus we fried up some bacon and it’s perfect with the missus’ guacamole.”
Riley groans, the vibrating sound of hunger unapologetic as she nabs Zach’s hand again to lead him upstairs. “A bacon guac burger sounds amazing!”
Jack’s brows quirk under his Stetson, but he doesn’t comment on his daughter holding Zach’s hand. “Well, come on then.” He grunts at her. “Get your tail up here before the boys eat all of it.”
******
The meal is as exuberant and good natured as a Daniels family get together always is, with everyone nursing groaningly full stomach by the end. Everybody gets a clean up job to make things go faster, and after Junior and Zach help to clear the table the oldest Daniels boy gives his wife a kiss and promises they’ll be back soon. “C’mon,” he nods to Zach, swiping up his Stetson from where he had been sitting. “We gotta go see a lady about some arrangements for you.”
“You don’t have to go out of the way for me.” The anticipation of a gentle letdown is already hanging in the air and Zach moves towards the bag that is still in the back of the truck. “I can just hitch a ride out of town. The meal was enough.”
“It’s my boss,” Junior explains, always knowing his family would disown him if he just let Zach wander out of Louisville without help. Especially Riley. “She wants to meet you.”
“I didn’t get you into any trouble, did I?” He hadn’t expected the lack of police investigation, or the way that he had nonchalantly told whoever was in his ear about killing people, but he doesn’t want the man to lose his job.
“Not at all. If anything, Ginger’s impressed.” They climb into the truck together and head back toward the highway, bound for Statesman’s main offices. When Ginger Ale had taken over the running of Statesman from Champ ten or so years ago, the only person who was surprised at the offer was Ginger herself. Since then she’s led the agency fearlessly and honorably, giving the whole place a new sense of vibrancy.
Zach highly doubts that, but it’s easier to just go along right now. He can always leave later on when the boss is yelling at him. “Well, that’s something.”
The drive doesn't take long, just a reversal of the route they drove earlier from the airstrip out to the ranch after landing. At this time of night there aren't many people around and the cars in the lot are few, but Junior parks in a spot by the front entrance and grabs his hat again after throwing the gearshift into park. "C'mon," he encourages, as though it's his catchphrase or something. "Top floor. Right in the bottle cap."
“Well that’s a hell of a view.” Zach looks up at the large building that looks exactly like a whiskey bottle. It’s definitely a statement although he’s not quite sure what it says.
The barrel-shaped elevators give him a good chuckle, and by the time Junior is strolling into Ginger's office with a contented smile, he's pretty sure he knows how this is going to go. "Evenin', Ma'am," Junior drawls, waving Zach into the office behind him.
"Jack." Ginger looks up over the rim of her glasses at the younger Jack Daniels before her eyes move over to the more tentative man behind him. "And this would be Corporal Wellison, yes? Shut the door behind you and have a seat, gentlemen.”
Zach is unsure if he should salute the older woman, but he refrains. He’s not in uniform anymore, nor is he a corporal in the Marines. “Ma’am.” He offers politely, wondering if all the woman are just unreasonably beautiful around here. This Ginger looks like she could have modeled, even now.
“I understand I owe you some thanks.” Ginger looks to Zach directly, her steepled fingers peaking under her chin. “Jack here is one of the best men in my operation and I don’t like to think of what I’ll have to do when I don’t have him at hand any longer.”
“I didn’t do anything special.” The small shrug of Zach’s shoulders isn’t to dismiss Ginger, he had just assessed the situation and chose a side. Apparently, he had picked the right one. “Sometimes back up in a firefight is necessary when you’re pinned down.”
“That’s exactly my feeling.” She nods, looking between the two men. For the last hour she’s been absorbing Corporal Wellison’s file and reading through reports from the clean-up team that deployed to LA. A full background check on the former Marine had been very enlightening. “And it a appears that you’re a very good man to have as back up.”
“I was a Marine.” There is a bit of pride in his tone. “We didn’t leave anyone behind on the battlefield.” In real life was another story, but she isn’t interest in that.
"You're a Marine with an exceptional record and impressive marksmanship." She can't deny that, nor would she even under other circumstances. Of course Statesman had active recruitment processes, but sometimes candidates just fell right into their lap. "I understand that circumstances haven't exactly been favourable for you since you returned stateside." Ginger shifts in her large chair, moving his file forward on her desk for him to see. To show him that she's been looking into him, unapologetically. "From what I've heard and what I've read, I'd like to extend an invitation to you. Call it...an application process. Our own version of boot camp, if you will. We have room for two more people on our team here and if you're inclined? I think you'd be an excellent fit."
Zach’s eyes narrow suspiciously. The idea of boot camp had the wheels in his head turning. “Recruited for what exactly?” He asks. “I was told this is a distillery not a Blackwater group.” He looks over at Junior and wonders what the fuck he’s gotten involved with. “I’m not a merc.”
"No, you're not." A smile tugs at the corners of Ginger's lips as she sits back. "You're a gunslinger. Choosing your battles and covering a victim when you see him being pursued in a park," she gestures at Jack, knowing he isn't innocent or a victim in any way but for the purposes of this exercise. "You sound like a cowboy to me. And if you'll sign on the dotted line..." An NDA seems to materialize on the top of her desk as if from nowhere. "I'd like to introduce you to the other side of what Statesman is all about."
Seconds tick by. Probably the longest twenty seconds of his entire life. Another glance at Junior doesn’t reveal anything beyond the man’s desire for him to sign the paper. Then his eyes find Ginger. Watching her carefully and there’s a slight edge of challenge in her gaze. Enough that Zach is leaning forward and taking the pen to scrawl his signature on the line.
A quick glance down at the paper and Ginger's photographic memory are all she needs to know that that signature matches up with the others of his that she'd seen and this young man is indeed who he says he is. Good. She had been right about him being upstanding - most people would think there was no cause to lie about who you are when you have nothing, but she had found that that was exactly when people started to bend their stories to suit their situations. "Statesman is an independence intelligence agency," she explains, pressing a button on her desk that causes control panels and monitors to appear from behind previously mundane panels of wood around her. "And Jack Junior here is one of our finest agents."
He is struck dumb for a moment, eyes wide as he absorbs the way the room shifts and he frowns slightly as a million different questions pop up in his head. “Independent intelligent agency…” He repeats slowly as if he is weighing his words and reconciling them with what he is seeing. “So those men chasing you…” he turns to Junior for a full explanation.
“Were thugs hired by a human trafficking operation.” Junior sits back in his chair, tilting his Stetson back a little so there is no question that he is looking Zach in the eye while he tells him the honest truth. “They didn’t take kindly to my partner and I posing as buyers to get those girls back to their families. I drew the short straw - pulling their firepower away so the others could get to safety.”
“Then I’m glad I picked up that gun.” Zach scowls angrily at the idea of human trafficking. He’s seen a lot of that shit while he was on the streets and there was nothing he could do.
“It’s not always big operations.” Ginger warns him, seeing the righteousness in the young man’s eyes. “Sometimes it’s small. Observation. Or escorting people who have no way to protect themselves. Sometimes it’s intelligence gathering or undercover work.” Clearly proud of her agents, she does tilt her head a little and smile. “But it pays a hell of a lot better than law enforcement does and doesn’t have to answer to whatever yokel is in office at the time. We operate only on what we see as benefitting of our time. And frankly? We’re damn good.”
“And you want me?” He asks, lifting a brow as if he can’t believe it. He can’t. After the military, no one wanted him. He was used up and slightly bitter about that fact.
“I went over your service record and your background check while you were with Agent Absinthe, and on paper you’re a perfect candidate.” A part of that, unfortunately, is his utter lack of family or friend attachments. Not even a job to put his notice in at or an apartment to pack up. But for those unfortunate circumstances, Statesman could offer him a place to live with a steady paycheck and a proverbial family to have his back. “If you go through the training and decide that being a field agent isn’t for you, we have plenty of secure jobs on the ground as well.” Ginger folds her hands in front of her on her desk and smiles - something her predecessor rarely did but she thinks Zach might find comforting. “You can say no, of course. But not everyone gets a second chance at life. I sincerely hope you take us up on it.”
A second chance at life. Zach remembers what Riley had said about her parents. Twenty years without each other, one thinking that the other and the baby were dead. Only to find each other again and pick up where they left off. He wonders if he could get back a little of the man he had been before. The gun hadn’t felt as heavy in his hands the last time he turned one in with the military. It had felt right, even better now that he knew what kind of scum he had dispatched to hell. “Not like I don’t have some free time in my schedule.” He reasons, giving a slight shrug. “Might be interesting to see what kind of training you’re talking about.”
“Hot damn.” Junior laughs out loud, reaching out to slap Zach’s shoulder gleefully. “Didn’t I tell you, Ging? I knew he’d be in for it!”
“Keep it in your pants, Jack,” Ginger chuckles. It’s definitely not the first time she’s said that to a man named Jack Daniels. “Jack can show you to temporary quarters until we get your housing sorted out. There’s a cafeteria on the bottom floor of this building that feeds employees three meals a day for free, and I’ll have a company ID delivered to your room overnight. Both of you report to the training grounds at 0800 tomorrow. Any other questions for now?”
“I—” Zach stops for a moment, gathering his thoughts and then he starts again. “Thank you.” He offers quietly, aware that this invitation did not have to be extended. “Is there anything I need?” He doesn’t have a lot, but maybe his old running shoes he’s been wearing for the last four years will hold up.
“We have some things ready for you in your room to get you through until your first paycheck is cut.” She had a feeling he’d say yes based on how Jack had told the story of their encounter, but she doesn’t really want to overwhelm the young man by letting him know that the room is the extremely comfortable visiting agent’s apartment on the fourth floor, not just a room with a bed. It’s fully furnished and packed with clothes in a variety of sizes so that he’ll be able to find things that fit without having to ask for help. A little dignity, at least until they had him situated in a permanent residence. “Anything in the space you’ll be staying in, is there for you to use.”
“Thank you again.” He’s a little overwhelmed at this point. Barely hanging on to his emotions. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“I don’t expect you will, Zach.” Standing almost in unison, Ginger extends her hand to the young man and can practically feel the vibrations coming off of him. Tomorrow will be a very big day for Zach Wellison, it seems. “I sincerely hope you don’t have an aversion for Stetsons, because we’re going to have you wearing one in no time.”
“Never worn one.” He admits with a grin. “Unless you count when I was two.” There’s a few pictures he had from his childhood, one of them is him in his diaper and a cowboy hat.
"Well, we'll fix that soon enough." She nods when he takes her hand, acknowledging the leap of faith he's taken tonight. Not everyone could do it – they'd deny or lash out or even be upset at the revelation. But she has a good feeling about this man. "0800, gentlemen. I'll let Tequila know to expect you."
Even though it is her office, in the blink of an eye, Ginger has disappeared. Leaving Zach slightly bewildered until he notices the hidden door off to the side. He had been battling the intense emotions and near teared up and she was just…gone. “Now what?” Zach asks Junior.
"I can show you where you'll be staying, if you like." He offers, stepping out from the area surrounding his chair to stretch his legs. "It's an apartment a few floors down. Usually used for visiting agents from the New York office, but that just means it's ready for you now at a moment's notice."
“Are you sure I’m not putting anyone out?” Zach asks. “I thought Ginger said I would be sharing a room?” He doesn’t want any treatment that would have him set apart from everyone else.
“If you’d rather stay on the ranch, that’s fine.” It wouldn’t be the first time that either he or his father had taken in someone to stay for a while, and he knows that there is plenty of room. “Might be less lonesome.”
“There’s no way you have the room at your place, not with three kids.” He would offer to sleep on the sofa, but then people would be tip toeing around him and he didn’t want that either.
"My parents have room at the big house." Out of Ginger's office and back through the hall, Junior presses the call button on the elevator and leans against the wall. Now that Zach has accepted the invitation to stay and try Statesman on for size, he is fully relaxed. "They keep a guest room ready and Mom loves to have visitors, so it wouldn't be imposing." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Dad was a legend when he was a field agent. I'm sure he'd love a chance to bust out some old stories for someone who hasn't heard them a hundred times."
“No wonder your mom was wary about answering questions about his job.” Zach murmurs, understanding now that the entire family is in this business.
"The title of CEO is a cover for senior field agent," Junior explains when the elevator doors open. "There's all kinds of corresponding titles for civilian jobs to agency jobs." He jabs the button for the bottom floor, sure that Zach would prefer to stay at the ranch than alone in the Statesman building. "And, of course, there's some jobs that are just civilian. Like my sister Sam and her wife Vanessa? They really are both distillers."
“But not Riley?” Zach sneaks a glance over at Junior as he asks, trying to be casual about it.
The older man stifles a smirk, keeping his face totally neutral as Zach tries to be stealthy in asking about the woman he spent nearly every second of tonight with. It was abundantly obvious that Riley was attracted to Zach right off the bat, but it seems that the feeling is mutual. "Riley is in Research and Development," he explains, affecting a bored tone. His sister's work has been invaluable, actually. "She's technically an agent, but not a field agent."
He’s slightly relieved, happy she’s not getting chased or shot at. Maybe slightly rooted in that old school belief that women should be kept safe, although he has a hell of a lot of respect for women in authority. “That’s good. She’s a smart lady.”
"You guys seemed to get along pretty well." Junior cracks a grin, but in all honesty he's okay with it. Zach got dealt a shitty hand by life. Not because he made bad choices but because the system failed him. Now, hopefully, a new system could give him a better chance.
Zach immediately rounds his shoulders, aware that he should have kept his distance from Junior’s sister. “You don’t have to worry, man.” He murmurs. “I hear you.” All he can think about is that Junior is warning him off and he can’t mess up this chance.
"Hear me?" The grin disappears from his face, replaced by an expression of worry, wondering if he said something he shouldn't have. If Zach had taken something differently than he meant it. "No, man. No. That's not—" He shakes his head twice as they wait for the elevator to come to a full stop. "She's a grown ass woman. And she obviously likes you a lot. Ri's never been very good at hiding that kind of thing. There's no...warning here, or anything. I wouldn't have left you guys alone together or brought you to meet my family in the first place if I objected to something about you, Zach."
Zach snorts, not believing that. “Yeah, because you want your little sister to be interested in a homeless bum.” The doors to the elevator open and he quickly steps off, angry – mostly at himself – about how this is going.
"As of five minutes ago, you're Statesman." Junior reminds him as they walk to the truck. "Listen, I— I've never been homeless. But I know what it's like to have no sense of your future and the hopelessness of not being able to grasp a real life." He unlocks his pick up and waves Zach in, sighing a little as he shoves his key in the ignition. "Until I was twenty-four, my mother and I were in Witness Protection. Every single thing about my life was a lie. We were relocated five different times because the people after her kept finding us. It was...terrifying. So I know it's not the same, but I also know that you didn't ask for it just like we didn't ask for what happened to us. It can take a while to adjust to something new. Just...I'm asking you to believe that we don't think less of you. Our family knows what it's like to not be able to make your own decisions about life. And it's no one else's business what you were doing before you came to Statesman. No one here comes from the perfect life. No one."
Shame isn’t something that Zach is unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since someone made him feel that way because they were being kind. “‘m sorry.” He apologizes quietly. “When you’ve been kicked long enough, you feel like you deserve it. You expect it.”
"I know that feeling." For as much as you ever shielded him growing up, Junior had had plenty of his own battles to fight in every place you had been moved around to. Just because it wasn't exactly the same circumstance as Zach's, didn't mean he couldn't relate. "I don't expect you to turn on a dime and readjust to a new life instantly. That's...that's incredibly unrealistic. Just try to keep an open mind, that's all."
“I’ll try.” Zach tries for a sheepish grin. “Pretty hardheaded sometimes.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “Jarhead is a Marine nickname for a reason.”
"That's fair enough." Junior chuckles as he backs out of the parking spot. "Daniels' are hardheaded and we don't even have an excuse."
He can’t help but snort at that, having experienced it firsthand when dealing with Junior. “I guess it must be in the blood for some.” He murmurs quietly. “Are you sure your folks would be okay with me staying with them? I don’t want to put an agent out of their place. Just give me a sofa or a cot in a back room and I’ll be better than I was.”
“That guest room is sitting empty waiting to be filled,” Junior promises. “I can swear to you the original occupant isn’t coming back for it, since it used to be mine.” Jack had kept the room at the ready for his son for a long time just as a symbol, even after Junior and Janey’s house on the ranch was full of kids. “We can call ‘em from the road if you’d like? So they know to expect you?”
“Just to make sure.” The last thing Zach wants is for there to be some reason you didn’t want him there. Or couldn’t have him. It would just embarrass him even more.
Confident in his plan, the older man uses the truck’s communications panel - a Statesman must-have - to call the ranch, and grins when his father picks up. “Hey Dad,” Junior hums as he drives. “Question for ya.”
“Junior.” Jack’s voice rings out warmly in the speakers. “Shoot. you know I always have time to answer any questions you have.” Since coming back into his life, Jack has made forging and strengthening the relationship between himself and his eldest his priority. Trying to make up for missing the first half of his life.
“It’s not that serious, Pop. I promise.” The younger Jack Daniels chuckles. “Would you and Mom be alright with hosting Zach until Ginger gets his housing squared away? He starts training tomorrow morning.”
“So he accepted?” Jack chuckles, proud of his boy for finding the next wave of talent for Statesman. “Good, good. Of course, we’d be happy to have him here. Your mother needs someone to fuss over beside me.” He’s aware that Zach has to be within earshot and while he’s protective of his girls, he’s aware he can’t meddle in their affairs. You point out what a manwhore he had been when he thought you were gone. It’s not fair for him to coddle her as his last unmarried child.
“That’s what I was thinking you’d say.” Junior grins, flashing Zach a thumbs up. There’s no point in saying an ‘I told you so’ when the outcome is a good one and the concern was only polite. “We’re on our way back to the ranch now. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days for everything to be set. You know how fast Ginger works.”
“Boy’s welcome to stay as long as he’d like.” Jack assures him, wanting to make sure the message is clear. “You know we always enjoy company and I can get a feel for how trainin’ is goin’, give him a few tips.”
“You mean give him tricks so he can get one up on Tequila?” He laughs softly at his father’s enthusiasm, glad to see that he was exactly right about how this would go. So far, at least. “We’ll see you in about ten minutes. Thanks, Dad.”
When Junior ends the call, Zach exhales audibly, relieved that he had been right. It didn’t sound like Jack was wary, and that did wonders to relieve his anxiety. After being invisible for so long, it seems almost jarring to be so in the spotlight. “So, I take it he knew what you wanted to do with me?” He asks, wondering if Junior brought home people all the time.
“Every once in a while, one of us will get a feeling about someone.” It wasn’t terribly common, meaning that whenever it happened the recruit in question tended to get a bit more attention and training, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. “The agent in charge of training – Tequila? That’s how he came in. Guy used to be a rodeo clown back in the day.”
“A…rodeo clown…” Zach says slowly, grinning slightly at the mental image. “That’s one hell of a job. I’ve never even been to a rodeo.”
“Oh, we’ll fix that soon enough.” The grin that Junior flashes him is mischievous. “Riley loves the rodeo. I’m sure she’d take you.”
“I’m pretty much assuming everyone in your family is familiar with horses or ranch life.” Zach had been a city kid and it wasn’t like he was riding horses in Iraq and Afghanistan in the middle of a war zone.
“It’s definitely a big part of life. The cowboy thing was never something that I felt attached to before coming here, but it grows on you.” After spending a full half of his life in Louisville with Statesman, Junior had come to view it as a way of life. A set of principles to live by. And though his kids were all growing up in a modern world that seemed to move faster than light, the core of their family was always respect and freedom – two things that Statesman valued as well.
“I’ve never even been around a horse.” Zach admits. “Not unless you count a Great Dane.”
Junior laughs, smacking his hand on the steering wheel as he drives. “They’re damn near pony-sized, I’ll give you that. But horses are beautiful creatures. You should give it a try while you’re at the ranch.”
“I—okay.” Zach nods, aware that this is surreal. Nothing in his entire existence prepared him for cowboy spies, although the westerns he had seen flipping through channels as a child makes him think of a romanticized version of it. A more friendly Bond.
“You’ve been to war, Zach.” Junior shoots him an encouraging smile. “I promise you can manage a horse.”
"Somehow I think a living breathing animal is a little different from the Humvees we rode in." Zach snorts, appreciating the vote of confidence. "Although I could say that one of them did buck me when it flipped with me inside."
“See? You’re already an old pro.” It’s nice to be able to laugh with Zach now, even only hours after meeting him. Earlier today he had been understandably caged. Guarded. And of course – his everyday survival depended on self-reliance in every way. It’s good to see those barriers already cracking under the gentle touch of kindness and good faith. “You’ll be a cowboy in no time.”
“I don’t know about that.” He huffs. “I’ll settle for ‘regularly showered’ for right now.”
******
The rest of the drive passes easily enough, this time with Junior pointing out a few favourite sights and restaurants from the road, and soon enough they’re back at the big house. There’s a lot less bustling activity going on now that most people have gone home for the evening or moved on to nighttime activities, but the kitchen is still brightly lit when Junior opens the front door. “We’re back!” He calls, though the path of light in the house shows exactly where everybody is.
“In the kitchen, sweetie!” Your voice rings out, and laughter from two different people rings out almost immediately.
“They must be playing cards or a board game.” Junior tells Zach, already headed in that direction. “Riley and Mom are Scrabble fiends. Dad prefers poker.”
Nodding, Zach shrugs. “I’ve been a card player during my time in the Marines.” He had never played for anything more than fun, or beers, but he had fond memories of nights in his unit playing while pretending they weren’t in danger.
"Dad will be glad to have another vote for cards." With a clap on the back, Junior strolls into the kitchen and immediately goes to say hello to you and Jack. "Ginger's said yes," he reports with a grin. "Say hello to Statesman's newest recruit."
Jack leans back in his chair and grins at the younger man who looks like he's had his world turned upside down. Hopefully that will be the best damn thing to happen to him. "Pull up a chair, son. We'll get you a glass of whiskey and I'll tell you all about some of the missions we've run."
"Told you," Junior laughs, flashing a smirk at Zach.
"You love your stories too," you remind Junior, already hustling to pull up two more chairs at the table. "Like father, like son. Always."
"Bond in a Stetson?" Zach asks as he sits down, glancing over at the older couple.
"That's what I called him the day we found out what it was Jack had been doing." You tell him, patting the back of a chair as Riley disappears down the hallway with a grin on her face. "Cowboy James Bond. It didn't take long for Junior to follow in his father's footsteps. Statesman's been a blessing to our family in every single way."
"Were you recruited from the Navy, sir?" Zach isn't very clear on the timeline for everything, but he wonders if Statesman had been sniffing around military branches for most of their agents or if civilians like Tequila dropped into their laps in equal measure.
"You could say that." Jack's laugh is deep and amused at that, considering the circumstances. "I was recruited from the brig on the verge of a dishonorable discharge. Champ – our old director – he liked a rebel when they had a good cause. But me?" He shakes his head. "I was angry at the world for taking away my sweetheart and little boy. It wasn't a good place for a man to be in. Any man."
"I couldn't even imagine." Zach had been single when he hit rock bottom, he couldn't even fathom what it would have been like to lose a significant other. Especially when pregnant. He might not have survived that, so it speaks to how damn tough Jack Daniels Senior is.
"Junior was twenty-four when Statesman took over our case from the US Marshals." You explain, knowing that your children had already mentioned your time in WITSEC to Zach over the course of the night. "Champ got wind that we were being moved again and stepped in. He sent Jack to pick us up and relocate us here instead."
"And the rest is history." Riley reappears from around the corner with a bottle of Statesman Blue Label in hand and deposits it on the table with a stack of glasses.
"Happy ever after." Zach murmurs, unsure of what that would ever entail for him or if it was even in the cards. He's never really known what he wanted out of life, kind of aimless if he were completely honest with himself.
"Happy ever after." You hum in agreement and lean over to kiss Jack's cheek. "Which we never thought we would get, honestly."
It's probably the most relaxing evening Zach has experienced in a long fucking time. Drinking his fair share of that bottle, he grins as he leans back. His stomach is full because you had insisted that nine o'clock snacks were perfect. Laughing at another story that Jack Senior has told about a time where his ass was in a jam and Tequila, the man who was training him tomorrow, had pulled it out of the fire. "You got them though, right?"
"Statesman agents always get their man." Riley tells him proudly, chin up in the air as she tips back the last of her glass. She may be unsubtly playing on the fact that she, too, is an agent of Statesman, but mostly she's just proud of her father and brother. "Always."
"So don't fuck up." Zach chuckles, shooting you a sheepish look. "Sorry, ma'am." He offers, hating that he had cursed in front of you. You seem like a wonderful woman, but he wants to give you the impression he has manners. He's staying in your house after all.
"No need to apologize for cursing." It earns him a waved hand from you, and a smirk. "We swear up a damn storm in this house. Don't think otherwise." Though you hadn't done it while the kids were young, and generally reserved that vocabulary for when it really counted, that didn't mean you never swore.
Riley laughs and Junior sighs as he leans back. "I should get back to the house. Janey is waiting." He smirks, although it's one of those soft ones that men think that no one else notices when they've been promised sexy times.
"Gross." Riley gripes, swatting at her brother and rolling her eyes heavily even as she snorts a laugh. "Go be domestic and happy or whatever, I guess. I'll retire to my spinster's room and do something dangerous like read a book."
"Can't be readin' now." Jack winks at his daughter and shakes his head. "You're already smarter than everyone, 'cept maybe Ginger."
"Oh no." Another roll of her eyes is fully sarcastic and Riley squeezes her father's shoulder affectionately. "A smart daughter? Whatever will you do with me?"
You just laugh, shaking your head at the two of them and reaching over to pat Riley's hand on her father's shoulder. "Will you show Zach the guest room before you turn in, honey? Show him where everything is?"
"Sure, mama." She bends to hug both of her parents and affectionately nudge Junior's shoulder before turning to Zach. "You ready to turn in, cowboy?"
“I should get some sleep.” Junior had brought Zach’s bag in and told him that everything he needed was in the room. He assumes that means he had let him borrow some more clothes. “I start at eight tomorrow morning.”
"With Tequila, that means more like 8:15. He's not exactly a morning person." You smile, though, and say good night to Zach once more before he follows Riley upstairs.
“So you develop more than just tech for the distillery.” Zach hums. “I thought it was a very impressive system for just whiskey.”
"I would protect that whiskey with my life," Riley tells him with her hand on her heart. "But yes. Agent Grenadine, at your service."
“Agent Grenadine.” He likes that, it’s sweet like she seems to be. A good additive to any cocktail. “I like that.”
"Active field agents are liquors. Ground agents have slightly less pungent names." She giggles at her own joke. "Our boss? Agent Ginger Ale. She was R&D like me before taking over as director."
“Smart. Easy to identify.” Zach absorbs that information. “So that means my trainer is still a field agent?” He asks, wanting to know what to expect tomorrow.
“Tequila still works in the field from time to time, but he mostly trains now.” At the top of the stairs, Riley turned right into a large bathroom with two sinks built into the counter and a bath/shower combo big enough to fit three if the need ever arose. “He’s a good guy. Sense of humor, pretty positive outlook considering the man is a secret agent,” she smirks about that. “He was my brother’s partner for a long time. Sam and I called him Uncle Tequila for years.”
“Sounds like he worked with your dad too.” If he has any questions of why she is bringing him into a bathroom, he doesn’t ask. Just quickly and discreetly ducks his head to sniff himself. It’s been a while since he’s had that shower on the jet, but he should still be okay.
“Towels in the closet, soaps and stuff under the sink.” She says casually before ducking out of the room again and heading down the hall. “Yeah, Dad helped train him. They’re thick as thieves.”
Ahhhh, he’s getting a quick tour. He follows her quickly and chuckles. “So I can expect him to get a progress report on my training.”
“Especially since you’re staying here.” The grin that Riley flashes him is playful, and she stops in front of a bedroom with the door wide open and fresh sheets in the bed. “This is you,” she tells him. “My parents and Sam’s room are on the other side of the landing. But I’m right next door if you need anything.”
“I thought Sam lived off property?” He doesn’t care who is here, it’s not his house, but he just didn’t want to run into anyone on the way to the bathroom or something.
“She does, but she only moved out about two years ago and Dad has a thing about leaving our rooms set up. Jay’s was in tact until I left for college and he hasn’t lived in the big house since he and Janey got married.” Pointing out the window, they can make out the top of the cabin over the tree line across the main property. “The cabin was their wedding present.”
“Wow.” Zach is definitely impressed. “Did he build Sam and her wife a cabin too?”
"Sam moved into Vanessa's house when they got engaged." Riley steps into the room, giving them time to talk some more if they want it. "Their wedding present was their honeymoon...and while they were away he had their backyard redone for them and a pool put in along with fixing up Vanessa's work shed. Dad...tends to go overboard."
Zach lifts a brow and looks around the room that was very obviously set up for a boy in a gorgeous shade of green. “You mean building a house as a tribute isn’t what most people do?”
"I don't know about most people, but it is if you're Jack Daniels." Riley looks out over the property, fidgeting with her hands shoved in her jeans pockets. It's always been the dream – at least for her. To grow up and have her own little cabin with her own partner on the ranch where her tight knit family has grown and prospered. Maybe it's old fashioned, but sometimes old fashioned really isn't a bad thing. The city just wasn't for her. She had tried it and found out that she's just a country girl at heart.
“It’s touching.” Zach doesn’t want her to think he’s insulting the idea. “This is— hell, I’ve not ever been able to dream about a life like this for a long time, but back when I enlisted?” He shrugs and shakes his head, his own eyes finding the same view Riley is looking out at. “All I wanted was to find love and make a family.”
"It's kind of the dream around here." And it's not even something that she is going to be self-conscious about. It's her dream and it's a good one - just because it's not for everyone doesn't make it any less worthy for her. "Definitely what I want. But it's kind of hard when you have to be cagey about what you do for a living."
“Are you not allowed to tell a spouse?” He could see where that would cause issues. It might be a special set of circumstances for you since you had been protected by Statesman.
"We can tell our spouses. There's a clearance level for that." She shrugs slightly. "But it makes dating a little...awkward. Having to lie to someone right off the bat isn't really a great foundation for a relationship."
“I get that.” Zach feels bad for her. “You’ll find someone. You’re way too—” he bites his lip, hating that he had almost said that.
"Too...?" There was almost a compliment there, she's sure of it, and one eyebrow raises at Zach in question.
Zach rolls his eyes at himself. “Pick one. Pretty, smart, funny, loyal, kind.” He almost grumbles it. Sore that he’s meeting a woman he one thousand percent would be interested in when he is at his lowest and receiving a hand out from her family.
Riley flusters, biting her lip to hold back the fairly enormous smile threatening to overtake her face. "You too," she hums, leaning against the windowsill. "Pick one. Any of them. Except maybe sub out handsome for pretty."
Warmth spreads through his stomach and makes it flip pleasantly. “Look, I know—” he breaks off and shakes his head. “You should know your brother literally picked me up off the streets.” He admits quietly. “Yesterday I slept in a fucking park with a metal pipe for protection.”
"I'm sorry to hear that." It makes her swallow a little, not out of fear or concern but out of sympathy. Homelessness is a hell of an issue and she's not blind to how lucky she is to have a comfortable place to live and a well-paying job. "I know that's a big issue for vets coming back from combat, and..." Riley shakes her head slightly. "It doesn't make me think less of you, for the record. I mean, you served your country and you didn't deserve to be dropped on your ass when you came home."
He had a feeling she would pity him, but he shakes his head. “I don’t – I know that you aren’t trying to pity me, but I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or whatever.” He’s so fucking bad at this. His hand slides out of his jeans to rub the back of his neck. “Just because I think you’re pretty doesn’t mean you have to think anything about me.”
"If you knew what I thought about you, you'd probably kick me out of the room." She admits with a slight cringe. "I'm sorry. I'm really fucking bad at this too, and I always have been. Why do you think I'm the only Daniels still single in a family full of people who tend to find romance very young?"
“Because you deserve better?” Zach shrugs, curiosity piqued now. “What do you think about me?” The worst thing she could think about him that he’s not already thought?
Riley huffs, caught between hoping he wouldn't ask and wondering what he would say if she actually told him. Her eyes drift down to her boots and the rug, not letting herself be so bold as to actually look him in the eyes in this moment. "I think you're about the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life," she admits, shoulders rounding in on themselves. "And it's...it's embarrassing to admit that I feel like I already know you somehow. Like you just feel familiar to me and I don't know why. But Sam said that's how meeting Vanessa felt to her and I can't get it out of my head."
“Are you sure you just don’t want to feel that way?” He won’t dismiss anyone’s feelings but he’s not ever been looked at like that before. “I’ll admit that you’re the first woman I’ve been— that I’ve just wondered about since I got back stateside really.”
"I thought she was bullshitting me." Riley confesses, looking up now even though it's tentative. "How can you know somebody before you've even met them, ya know? But then...I walked up to you and Jay tonight and it felt like the universe was kicking me in the teeth for doubting her. You just..." She sighs, finally looking up all the way to find his eyes. "This is going to sound so ridiculous. But I know that if I hugged you it would feel like coming home."
“It’s— it’s been a long damn time since I’ve had a hug.” Zach admits, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and opening his arms slightly as if to give her permission. “Only one way to find out if I suck at giving them.”
There's only a second of hesitation on her part as Riley tries to figure out if he's teasing her or not, but the look in his eyes is full of sincerity. She stands up straight up, pushing off from the wall to step forward the three strides it takes to reach him. Their arms fold around each other neatly and Riley inhales a ragged breath of surprise that couldn't be faked even by the more award-winning actor. It knocks the wind right out of her, how perfectly they fit together, and with him being several inches taller than her there is such a feeling of comfort and rightness that she could just break right down and cry. Goddamnit. Sam was telling the truth after all. Sometimes you just feel it.
Zach tilts his head, leaning his cheek on the top of her head and closing his eyes with a small sigh. The gesture is just perfect. Comforting and warm, making him relax more than anyone and anything else had tonight.
"You definitely don't suck at hugging," Riley finds herself chuckling softly even at her own reaction, tightening her arms around him just a little bit more.
“That’s good.” He murmurs softly. “I was worried about that.”
"No need to worry." Lifting her head is almost reluctant, but she readjusts against him to just barely look up and ends up nuzzled into his neck with this slight shift of their positions. It's more comfortable than she could have ever possibly thought as she sighs again without thinking.
Zach leans into it again, hesitant to break this wonderfully comforting embrace. Needing it more than he ever realized. A damn earthquake couldn't make her let go now, and Riley stays right where she is happily. Zach is a solid wall of comfort even with everything he's been through, and if she makes him feel half as relaxed as he is making her feel, then it was worth taking this leap of faith.
******
Zach groans, opening the door and shuffling inside. The biometric locks have been updated to include his thumbprint so he can come and go as he pleases, but Zach tries to be considerate. Sore and desperately needing a shower, he feels good about the progress and his footing here at Statesman.
The house is quiet. Only one car was in the driveway when he pulled up in the beat-up sedan that he'd bought off of a repair man's lot with part of his second paycheck. It didn't do much but get from Point A to Point B, but at least it did that. The only car in the driveway besides his right now is Riley's, which points to the elder Daniels' being out for the night. Friday nights are still their date nights after several decades of being together.
“Ri?” Zach closes the door to the house and looks around to see if she is downstairs.
"Down here!" The clacking of billiards balls can be heard and quiet music from the radio float up from the basement games room with the door open. "I've got cold beer!" She offers a second later, as if he needed more incentive to say hello.
“I’m gonna shower and I’ll be right down.” The grin that breaks out is purely in anticipation, he rushes towards the stairs so he can get into the bathroom to clean up. A Friday with Riley, some cold beer and billiards sounds like a perfect beginning to the weekend.
"Okay!" She calls back, not even knowing if he heard her or not. She's got the only pizza place that delivers out to the ranch on speed dial and two different six packs in the cellar refrigerator. If she had maybe known that staying home meant she'd have some time alone with Zach, she isn't trying to make it too obvious.
Being a Marine, he had showering down to less than five minutes. Throwing on some clean jeans and a t-shirt that seems to look better on him than it had on the hanger when he had picked up some new clothes. Smirking slightly as he starts down the stairs. “Need anything from up here?”
"Just some company." There's a smile in Riley's voice when she calls back to him. They've been moving towards things slowly. Small touches, lots of laughter and long talks. Star gazing in the fields, cuddling together watching movies in the living room. Holding hands like preteens. It's been sweet and innocent, and Riley is so deliriously smitten that she can't stop smiling anytime he's around.
“That I can do.” He promises, quickly bouncing down the stairs and smiling when he sees her. It’s been so fucking good. “Although I’m sore as shit.”
"Tequila's been running you pretty hard lately." She goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and pops the cap off, dropping it into the jar nearby before handing the bottle over. "But that's good. It means he thinks you can take it."
Lifting the bottle in thanks, Zach takes a long swallow. “Yeah I can, but the man is like a machine.” He might be older than Zach, but Tequila can run circles around the former Marine when he wants to. “Said to look at fighting like a dance. Right before he kicked my ass.”
Riley snorts, starting to reset the pool table. "Bet he didn't tell you that he has awards from dance competitions, did he? He's such a fuckin' show off."
“That explains how he flipped me over and managed to not throw my ass on the ground.” Zach grumbles under his breath.
"Rodeo clown and..." This time when Riley laughs, she waggles her eyebrows. "Exotic dancer. Or so the legend says."
“I’d believe it.” He snorts and takes another sip of his beer. “He moves like he’s rolled his hips a few times.”
"Taking notice of his hips, were you?" It just makes her laugh, making even more suggestive faces at him as he pulls a pool cue off the wall.
“Best way to see how he’s going to attack.” Zach rolls his eyes at her playfully. “People who say watch the feet don’t understand you can’t faint where your core rotates.”
“See, this is why I’m not a field agent,” she laughs as she sips her own beer. “You’re talking combat and I just want to make dirty jokes.”
“Nothing wrong with a dirty joke.” The only reason he doesn’t feed into them is because he knows he will be thinking about that with Riley and she’s given zero indication she’s wanting something like that.
“I have never met a man less inclined to a dirty joke.” And it’s kind of a shame, from her point of view at least. These couple of weeks have been very sweet between them but she definitely has a raunchier sense of humor that she keeps in check around him. Originally it was just so that he wouldn’t feel like she was coming on to him constantly, but then it seemed like he just didn’t like dirty jokes at all.
Zach’s brow wings up and he pins her with a confused look. “What makes you say that?” He asks, slightly insulted by that idea. He had a twisted sense of humor, he’s just been trying to be respectful, still aware of stereotypes of people who were homeless.
"Well...I don't know..." she mumbles, suddenly feeling sheepish. "I normally have a pretty decent sense of humor but you never responded to any dirty joke in the beginning so I just stopped going for them. It seemed...less awkward? Although now it's very awkward."
“I’ve been trying not to make you—” Zach huffs at himself. “I didn’t want to push if you weren’t— if it wasn’t to that point yet.” His own tone is sheepish. “Wanted you to know I have manners and know how to treat a lady.”
The way she huffs at both of them and shakes her head, it's clear that she's trying not to laugh at the irony. They were both trying so hard not to make each other uncomfortable that it led to an awkward conversation instead. "The first night you were here," Riley leans back against the pool table and sighs in resignation. "You let me in just a little bit. To hug you? That was already the third time I wanted to kiss you."
There hasn’t been a night where he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, but he had always felt like Riley should make that move. “I wanted— I didn’t deserve to— but I wanted to kiss you too. I want to kiss you now. Hell—” he chuckles and shakes his head. “I want to do a lot more than kiss you.”
When Riley laughs this time it's almost pained, like the irony of the situation is just a knife in her side by now. "Do you know how many times I've had to stop myself from coincidentally being in the shower or changing with my door half open or any other horny bullshit on Friday nights when it's just us at home? Just to give you the opening?"
“I wouldn’t have taken it.” Zach can admit that to her, to himself. “Because I don’t want you to believe I don’t respect you. Or just want to get off.”
"What about now?" Now that he knows she wants him, surely that changes things? Or at least she desperately hopes that it does, because she's been aching to do more than hold his hand for weeks.
He sets the cue stick down and steps towards Riley, his eyes fixed on hers. “That depends on what you want.” He murmurs, edging closer again. “All depends on you.”
"Me?" The smirk growing across her face belies the way she squirms, backed up against the table as he takes a step closer and moves into her space. If he only knew how many times she had imagined this. "I respect the hell out of you." Riley swallows a laugh. "But I also want to know what you look like when you cum."
“Probably a mess.” Zach chuckles, cock twitching at the idea. “Sweaty and satisfied, nearly weak from cumming so hard.” He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something other than my hand.”
"You're not making it sound less appealing, ya know." If anything, he's making that weeks-old ache between her thighs even worse. Riley has seen him sweaty and disheveled from training a dozen times or more and each time has ended up with her hand between her thighs in bed that night.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought of you while I was showering?” He confesses, reaching out and brushing his fingers over her hip before settling his hand there. Still moving slow, but his gaze is hungry, his voice lust rough.
"About half as many times as I've thought about you with my fingers buried in my pussy?" With no real reason to be subtle about it, and her pulse going about a thousand miles an hour, Riley throws caution to the wind and tangles her hand in Zach's shirt before leading him into the space between her legs. Letting him get as close as possible with clothes on but not going all the way to kissing him. Letting him decide whether or not he's ready to cross that physical barrier.
Zach lets out a cross between a groan and a growl, lunging forward and capturing her lips with his. The other hand not on her waist wraps around her back and tugs her close even as he presses her against the table behind her. For all the hundreds of daydreams she has had about this moment leading up to it, Riley can’t pick a single one of them that stands up to what actually kissing him feels like. A month of working out daily and eating right has made his entire frame broad and strong again, and he envelopes her with every inch of himself as she scrambles to wrap her arms around him in turn. There is no hesitation in the kiss, just fierce hunger, and she moans into it with a need that makes her whole body shiver.
The slide of his tongue into her mouth is natural, almost like breathing. Slowly and sensually exploring the contours of her mouth like it’s a wonder of the world. Riley was already hanging on by a bare thread before Zach deepened the kiss, now she’s one hundred percent certain that she doesn’t have a ghost of a prayer at retaining her self-control. She whimpers this time, one hand finding the curls at the base of Zach’s neck, tugging on them insistently while her other hand starts to map the contours of his waist and chest over his clothes.
He groans, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he knows that she feels the hardening of his cock against her stomach. There’s no way she couldn’t. The way her back has bowed slightly from being pressed up against the table means that some things are even more pronounced, and Riley tilts her hips forward to get more of that gorgeous pressure from his length against her torso. If he’s half as hard as she is wet they’ll be an even match, but she can’t resist taking another step forward. Capturing one of his hands in her own, Riley slides Zach’s fingers under the hem of the t-shirt she threw on when she got home from work. The invitation to explore is unmistakable, and she moans at how hot his skin feels against hers. It’s like being granted permission to go to heaven. Zach groans into her mouth and his hand closes around her breast, squeezing gently and massaging as he deepens the kiss even more.
Tossing off her bra with her work clothes was the best decision she ever could have made, and Riley presses into his touch as eagerly as possible. His hands are huge, calloused and clever, and his thumb is running circles around her nipple in just under two seconds which makes her gasp and break their kiss for the first time since it began.
“Baby…” Zach blushes slightly, realizing he’s used an endearment. “Can I—” he glances down at her chest and then back up to her eyes. “I want to—”
“I want you to, too. Trust me.” Untangling herself from him is only necessary for as long as it takes him to slip her shirt off, and the cold air of the cellar feels like a wake up call with how overheated she’s become in the last few minutes.
Zach kisses her lips and the starts a gradual trail down her jaw and neck. Not wanting to rush while he cups both breasts and makes his way to take one nipple in his mouth. It draws the most sinful moan from her throat, and Riley’s hands find his bulk again to keep him close as she arches her back into him. His slow and steady tendencies might drive her crazy - in more than one way - but it’s as reverent as it is needy as he closes his lips around the pebbled bud. “Fuck, baby…” her head tips back with a groan. “I knew your mouth was going to be amazing.”
His tongue flicks over the tip harshly, then more gently as the pressure of his teeth increases. He hums against her breast, aware that she is whining so beautifully that he wants to hear more.
“Shit—” Without even really being under him she’s still squirming and panting, letting him explore at his own rate and not interrupting him no matter how desperately she wants to get her hands wrapped around what she’s certain is a beautiful cock. “‘Sall yours, baby,” she promises, gulping down a ragged breath. “Every inch of me.”
He suckles, bites and soothes like he hasn’t done in a long time. Having spent hours thinking about her tits, what he would do to them, to her, if he was ever allowed to touch her. Now that he’s given permission, he wants to make her burn, crave his touch. Needing it like he had needed this place, and her.
Those first touches are intoxicating, letting Zach graze his hands, lips, and tongue across her flesh any way he wants until she’s begging him for more. “Fuck—I—please, baby,” she moans, feeling the ache in every part of her body. Her focus, though, is on getting him to move south. To the point where she’s fumbling blindly to get her own jeans off for him.
He pulls off her tit with a pop and reaches for her hands. “Baby, do you—” he doesn’t know if she wants to do this here or upstairs, but he wants her to be comfortable.
“I don’t even care,” she admits sheepishly, though this time when she leans in to kiss him it’s gentle. “I don’t care where, I just care that it’s you.”
He grins, kissing you again. “You wanna risk your daddy comin’ down here?” He asks.
“They’ll be out for hours,” Riley grins. “He took Mom for a fancy dinner and dancing.” Even thinking about it for a few seconds, her grin turns evil. “And the basement’s soundproof.”
“There’s a couch, right there.” Zach groans, grabbing her and dragging her over to the sofa so he can lay her down. The giggle that rises out of her at his enthusiasm is so light and so free it’s like air. This is all she’s wanted since the day he walked into her life and she just feels how right it is in her bones.
“Shit—” Zach hisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he rests on top of her. “I— I don’t have a fucking condom.” It’s not like there’s been a lot of opportunity for Zach to have sex in the past few years.
“I’m on the pill.” All Statesman agents - field or otherwise - have periodic physicals done so she knows she’s clean, too. “As long as you passed your physical, we’re good.”
“I passed it.” He promises, bobbling his head up and down. “Are you sure?” He asks softly, not wanting her to feel like he’s pushing for raw sex. As it is, a condom might be a good thing.
"Hey." Riley sits up, both of her hands on Zach's cheeks. "If you want to be extra safe, we can go upstairs. I have condoms in my dresser and we'll have a bed. I don't...want you to regret any of this."
Zach shakes his head. “No. I— fuck, I want to feel you.” He admits quietly. “So fucking badly.”
"Then get these things off me." That mischievous giggle returns and he slips one of his hand down to the apex of her thighs where the extra fabric grinds against her dripping slit deliciously.
Shedding clothes turns into a series of giggles and curses when a piece of clothing is being difficult. Until Zach is finally pushing his boxer briefs down and revealing his aching and nearly purple cock. "Fuuuuck." The groan that tears out of Riley's chest is deep and needy as she reaches for him, letting the fingers of one hand wrap around the base of his cock with a slight squeeze. "I knew you'd have the best dick."
He huffs in embarrassment and arousal, rocking his hips forward into her grip. “Shit.” He hisses, throbbing as a lovely little spurt of precum dribbles out and down her knuckles.
They both whine, different pitches and different levels of desperation, but when Riley leans forward to lick the precum off her fingers, she voices such obvious enjoyment that she leans forward further and flicks her tongue across the tip of his cock for more. "You even taste good," she praises, looking up at him through hooded eyes. "Next time I promise I'll suck you dry, baby. But this time I need to feel you."
“If I— if I don’t last—” Zach moans as she guides him towards her core. Nearly pulling him as she doesn’t let up on her grip but it’s probably the only thing keeping him from cumming, so he loves it. “I promise I’ll make you cum on my tongue.”
"I'm not worried." If anything, she's fairly certain that she's so worked up that she might still cum first, but Riley shakes her head and presses a kiss to Zach's lips. "This isn't going to be the only time we do this."
“It’s not.” He promises, shuffling closer and letting her slide him through her folds. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.”
"Want you so fucking badly." Never having been one to disguise her wants before, she's felt like she was going to implode for weeks. Now, as he sinks into her, Riley can't tear her eyes away. Watching inch after inch of his cock disappear into her pussy is so hypnotizing she doesn't even hear the way she keens at being filled so completely.
The tight clutch of her surrounds him, squeezing him in a way that nearly makes him breathless. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He manages to lean down and press his forehead to hers as he finally grinds deep and bottoms out inside Riley.
"Fu—fuuuck—you feel so incredible. Holy shit." Her legs wrap around his waist, keeping him buried inside her while they both adjust to the perfect way they fit together.
His body is primed, right on the edge of toppling over. Inhaling and exhaling slowly as he throbs inside her. Hissing when she clenches down around him and makes him rock his hips forward slightly.
"Take your time." Riley has no plans on rushing this, needing a moment of her own to adjust to the way his thickness is splitting her open. It has her chest heaving under him even as she trails kisses down the long line of his jaw and throat.
“So fucking perfect.” Zach groans. “Jesus, you feel— it’s perfect. Like coming home.”
In the last month they really have spent nearly all of their free time together, and this moment that they're in now is the place she was absolutely certain that they were going to end up. Maybe not this couch specifically but intertwined together with intimacy at the core of their connection. "You're so fucking incredible." It really is on the tip of her tongue, to say what she's been feeling for weeks, but saying it for the first time with him buried inside her would either be cheesy or seem insincere. And since she doesn't want it to be either of those thing, she pours herself into kissing him instead.
When she says it like that, Zach believes it. Wondering what things would have been like if he had known her before being discharged. With his mouth occupied, he can’t voice anything more than a groan as he slides his arms under her and burrows in closer before he starts to move.
Knowing that they’re completely alone and in the only soundproof room in the house, Riley doesn’t hold back. The moans that cross her lips are salacious and encouraging, rising up through the air to practically float around them. To make them float somehow.
Every thrust feels like he’s being ripped apart. Torn at the seams and reforged in the extreme pleasure that only she can bring. No one has ever felt so good, not even the first girl he slept with. “Fuck, I— Jesus.”
“So fucking good.” The praise seems to be on repeat for her, punctuated with curses and cries that carry his name but break halfway through as another tremor of pleasure tears through her. Other encounters might have been more carefully planned or had more of some element or other, but none has ever felt this right.
Rocking into her steadily, Zach groans his own agreement. Three little words, ridiculous and not appropriate right now, are begging to fall from his lips. Making him kiss her again to not voice them.
Riley shifts under him, angling her hips to take each thrust deeper and letting out a muffled cry when his perfect cock strikes home at her g-spot at just the right time. She’s so close that she’s shaking with it, trembling on the verge of her peak and clinging to him with every stroke.
“Shit— shit, you need to cum. I need you to cum.” He can feel his control unraveling, surprised that he’s lasted this long. Only brief changes in pace have saved him to this point.
“Just like that,” she promises him, feeling the tension coil in her spine, knowing that she’s so close to the edge that if he changes anything she’ll lose it. Four more strokes is all it takes and she’s gasping for air, moaning Zach’s name into the heavy air as she comes apart for him.
“Riley.” Zach moans, unable to do anything other than follow her over the edge, pushing deep and gasping as he cums. Spilling hot ropes of cum into her womb as he seemingly cums forever.
“Holy fuck.” Head dropping back against the cushions, Riley pants for air and giggles wildly with the giddiness of such an intense first encounter. The words dance in her head but she’s able to push them aside for now, not willing to sacrifice the chance of a repeat encounter to her hummingbird heart.
“Holy shit, I’m dead.” Zach collapses against her and pants, smiling goofily as he tries to catch his breath. “Tell me it was good.”
“Baby,” she frowns slightly at the mere idea that it wouldn’t have been mind-blowing, but her fingers card through Zach’s damp hair. “It was so good I’m tempted to try to keep you all to myself,” Riley admits, maybe a little too softly.
“You can.” Zach mumbles, unsure of what she meant by that, but he had no intention of doing something with someone else. He’s never been that type of man.
“I didn’t want to assume.” The slightly nervous look on her face dissipates and she leans up to kiss him slowly. “Maybe you had your eye on someone else, too. Or maybe you’re not a relationship guy. We’ve never…never really talked about that.”
“Not a chance.” Zach grunts, shaking his head and huffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you, no way I’m going to think that I should just fuck you.”
"I just..." she blows out a breath, finding herself gazing into his eyes with a nearly dopey expression. "I really like you. And I think we could have something special. That's...insanely sappy. But at least it's true."
“I love you.” Zach’s eyes widen, even as he blurts out the confession. Cursing himself for not keeping his mouth shut.
For a second the moment is frozen. Riley doesn't dare to breathe or speak until she sees the regret in his eyes. "Please don't take it back." Both of her hands find his face again, cupping his cheeks and smoothing the anxious creases from his features before pressing a firm, earnest kiss to his lips. "I love you, too. I just – I guess I was really off base worrying that you didn't feel the same way about me."
“You are amazing.” Zach huffs. “Fucking amazing.” Relaxing in her embrace as she admits her own feelings. “I— I was worried that I would come on too strong, or someone thinking I’m trying to get in good with your family.”
“You might get a good questioning from my daddy now that we’re together, but that’s about it.” She actually laughs at the idea of it, already having seen firsthand the way her father doted on the trainee agent under his roof. He had taken a personal interest in Zach’s training as well, giving him a few tips in the way of lasso and whip technique. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m an all or nothing kind of girl and I swear I’m all in.”
“Your dad has already spoken to me.” Zach admits, shaking his head and grinning at her shocked expression. “Wanted to know if you wanted more than friendship, what would I do.”
Riley laughs when she finally shakes her head, shaking with it and grinning at him. "Was the answer fuck me into the basement sofa? Because that's a pretty fucking excellent answer."
He snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He moans. “Do you think I wanted to die? He had the electric whip in his hands.”
"I appreciate a man with instincts for self-preservation." She's still grinning when she nudges her nose against his. Still lying wrapped up in him on the sofa is an amazing place to be, but her stomach rumbling gives her away. "I was waiting for you to come home so we could have dinner together," she admits with a slightly guilty expression. "Maybe we can clean up and order a pizza? I kinda want to just snuggle up and relax with you."
“That sounds good, but I’m paying.” The Daniels have been more than generous, letting him stay for free, feeding him, helping him more than he could ever repay. Buying the woman he loves a pizza seems small, but a month ago, he couldn’t do that.
"If you insist." It isn't something she would ever expect from him, knowing how he saves and cherishes every penny in every paycheck, but she also won't push back against his pride. Instead, she just kisses him again, enjoying the lingering moment of affection, and looks back out over the room as they stretch and stand up again. There are truly clothes everywhere and every single cushion on that couch is in disarray.
“It’s a good damn thing your daddy told me that he had disabled the camera system in the basement.” Zach groans as he pulls back with a grin. “Don’t want him to see this.”
"I would not be the first one of his children that he walked in on." Riley snickers, tracking down her panties about four feet away where they landing when Zach threw them. "Jay has that distinction. And Janey was mortified."
“I’m sure it’s a lot different than walking in on your baby girl.” He had heard the nickname one night when Riley and Jack had been talking in his home office and the older man had hugged her and told her how proud of her he was. It was a moment that made Zach ache for a family like she had.
"Younger by a whole two minutes and forever the baby because of it." There's nothing wrong with that, but Riley just shrugs as they get dressed. Once things are back in place, she slips her hand into Zach's and squeezes. "We should just be up front with them. There's no keeping secrets in this family, for better or worse."
“Hopefully they don’t hate the idea too badly.” There’s still the issues with socialization, feeling inferior. He had been working on it, but there was nothing but time that would help that.
"Are you kidding?" They head upstairs together hand in hand. "Mom figured out which coffee mug you like best and won't let anyone else use it now. That's family shit. You're fine, babe. I promise."
“Is that why she’s always got it set out no matter how early I try to get up to make coffee?” He asks with a laugh, overjoyed by the thought and it makes him grin.
"Oh yeah. That's Zach's mug. It gets set out on the counter every night before she goes to bed along with everybody else's." When the house was busy and bustling and full to the gills, it helped to have specific things like dishes associated with each member of the family. It persisted after the house was just down to the three of you and now that there are four again it seemed like a nice thing to also give Zach that little bit of familial normality.
“I like that.” He admits, blushing slightly. “That makes me feel like I’m one of you. Like I belong here.”
"You do, honey." It might be a little rude to surprise the kids by just sitting at the kitchen table like you are, but you didn't plan on it. Date night got cut short by the place you normally go dancing being closed for a private event, so you and Jack had stopped for a pint of ice cream to share and planned on playing a board game. From both of the kids' disheveled appearance, it would seem you weren't the only one having a date night.
"Fucking shit, Mom!" Riley jumps three feet in the air, clutching Zach's hand in surprise and all but clutching her chest with her free hand when she whirls around to find you and her father sitting at the table. "Shi—I—sorry. Just...what the hell are you doing home?"
Jack chuckles, trying not to scowl at the very obvious evidence of what his baby girl and Zach had been up to down in his basement. He had been correct in turning off the damn cameras. “Nowhere to dance in this town tonight.” Jack grunts. “Least not to music I can handle.”
“We were going to order pizza.” Riley blurts out, suddenly nervous at nearly being caught, but she doesn’t let go of Zach’s hand. “Did you—uh…did you eat yet?”
“Not yet.” Jack hums, pulling out his phone so he can pull up the website for the only pizza place that delivers to the ranch. “What’s everyone want?”
“Pepperoni.” Riley answers immediately before looking back at Zach. “And banana peppers. Thanks, Dad.”
“Come and sit.” Honestly, you just want to bundle them up in a tight hug and tell them how glad you are that they stopped tiptoeing around each other, but you don’t know how Zach will react to that very maternal response. “How was everyone’s day at work?”
“I’d like your permission to date your daughter.” Zach blurts out, flushing again at how his mouth runs off without his brain around. Riley. “I mean— I understand that I am a man you haven’t known for long, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure your daughter is loved and respected.” He rallies and looks between you and Jack. He knows that he doesn’t need to ask you anything, but he wants to. He respects you both.
The mutual smile that breaks out across yours and Jack’s face is partially quiet amusement and partially the fact that you’re touched he would even approach it in such an old-fashioned way. “Come on and sit down, kids,” you insist, patting the tabletop even as you get up to fetch a pitcher of sweet tea and four glasses. Serious discussions usually go easier if you have something in your hands to fidget with.
Zach throws Riley a look and dutifully sits down. Wondering if he had misstepped. He had thought the parents of the woman he loves wound want him to be serious.
“First off,” Jack sits up straight in his chair after hanging up the phone and gives you a nod of thanks for putting a drink in front of him. “Ri usually lives by the motto that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so I appreciate you being straight forward.” He shakes his head in his baby girl’s direction, but this is really for the young man directly in front of him.
“I’ve figured that out.” Zach chuckles, looking over at Riley with nothing short of adoration in his gaze. “But I am a guest in your house, and feel like you’ve taken me into your family. I don’t want to insult your sense of propriety after you have been so wonderful.” It’s about respect for him. He’s had the last three years of being looked down on, taken for the worst and not once has this family done this to him. Not even when the chip on his shoulder got in the way.
"And I appreciate that." He won't pretend otherwise. Good manners matter to Jack when it comes to his family and they always have. These are the most important people on the planet to him. "Which brings me to my second point," he looks between the two of them - young adults even older than you and he were the first time you got married. "Y'all be respectful of each other and the shared parts of this house."
Riley tips her head, brow furrowing with interest at her father. "That's it? Just 'be good and don't have sex in the kitchen'?"
Jack closes his eyes briefly, ignoring the way you stifle an amused snort. “Do you want me to pull the ‘not under my roof’ bullshit you would just ignore anyway?” He asks, wondering why, of all his children, his youngest was most like him. Jack Jr. might look like his younger copy, and Sam might have his tenacity, but Riley had always had his fighting spirit, his need to buck the system. It had caused some headaches through her teenage years, but he’s trying to respect the fact that they are grown.
"Hell no," Riley shakes her head, reaching for Zach's hand under the table and lacing their fingers together. "I guess I expected the same 'what are your intentions' speech you gave Vanessa, though." Of course - Zach had said that he and her father had already spoken about her a little. That might be the reason for no speech. But that didn't stop her from being surprised.
“I already know the boy is in love with you.” Jack snorts, rolling his eyes. “He’s the type to want to marry you and have babies.” He shoots a very red-faced Zach a grin. “Am I wrong?”
Trying to save him the embarrassment, Riley puts up her other hand in defeat. "Okay, so no intentions speech. And I'm not upset about that fact, for the record. Just surprised."
"We told your brother and your sister the same thing," you remind her, sitting back in your seat with both hands around your cold glass of tea. "As long as you're happy, we're happy."
“I think your dad understood I have good intentions.” That vote of confidence has Zach straightening up in his chair. Feeling a burst of pride through the embarrassment.
"One of us should," Riley jokes, knowing full well that she is viewed as the most mischievous Daniels child.
Snorting, Zach looks to her father, expecting Jack to say something. The older man just shrugs. “That’s your problem now, son.” He jokes with a chuckle. “That’s alllllll you. Your second chance is here. Grab on and hope to hell like you don’t fall off.”
Zach grins at the advice and nods. “I won’t sir. I’m on this ride for the long haul.”
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle
My Masterlist!
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Jack Daniels x reader#Jack Daniels x you#Jack Daniels x female reader#Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels#Zach Wellison#Zach Wellison x OC#Zach Wellison x female OC#Zach Wellison x f!OC#Kingsman Golden Circle#Brothers and Sisters#crossover fanfic#technically
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Ok, SimChopped Family Cookout Throwdown questions: 1.) Between Indya, Mercy, or Elise who would win in that cooking battle? 2.) What individually are their best level 10 dishes? And 3.) Which of the three would be able to take on Tiffany Derry or Kardea Brown and win it all? :) (If you ever post pics of this I would love to see it.)
Hey friend!! I did NOT forget about this but I had to get a pic of these three iconic leading ladies together (which was NOT easy because they be busy or whatever).
Anyway, shall we begin?
First of all, they are in Indya's kitchen because Elise is having her kitchen remodeled. Anyone familiar with even a CHAPTER of this story knows how serious Elise is about her kitchen, which is why the first question is a no-brainer:
1.) Between Indya, Mercy, or Elise who would win in that cooking battle? Elise, hands down. She's won as soon as she takes that real, homemade crust for her pie out of the oven. Elise's sweet potato pie is nectar from the GODS. When she's in the kitchen you are literally WATCHING GOD okay? I don't make the rules. Sis is a BEAST!!
2.) What individually are their best level 10 dishes? Aside from the pie as mentioned above (btw, Indya is coming in a strong second with her caramel upside down cake), Elise is a master of SoulFoodic Arts so her Roasted Chicken with Collard Greens and Cornbread is her best dish. As for Indya, she's coming with grilled steaks, grilled asparagus and twice baked potatoes. She's a beast in the kitchen AND on the grill (although between her and her husband, Darren would demolish her on the grill. All he needs is those Jesus sandals). Mercy is coming in with a Baked Alaska to take care of dessert. Its sweet and delectable with a hint of citrus that everyone goes WILD for!
3.) Which of the three would be able to take on Tiffany Derry or Kardea Brown and win it all? I'm gonna be honest friend, I have no idea who these two are. I don't watch TV at all but I used to love the great british baking show so that's the only reference i have LOL! I'm assuming those two are badass cooks and once again, we're handing the crown to Elise.
This was SO MUCH FUN and if I had more time I had a whole idea to have the three of them in the kitchen cooking but this save is in a state right now (prepping for new episodes) that I can't really make too many sudden movements. BUT! Thank you for the ask and please feel free to ALWAYS think of me when you're sending around super fun OC asks!
Honorable Mention:
Maple "Pip" Greenwood is cooking EVERYBODY under the table.
Rest in Pixel Paradise.
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New prompts list for requests? RUNS 🏃♀️
How about… “I like keeping you to myself. Is that selfish?” “No. I feel the same way.” With our boy Cillian?
Love you bestie! xx
For you anything! 😘 love ya bestie! Xx
Selfish
No smut just fluff!
They had spent the whole weekend, just the two of them, Cillian coming back from two weeks in New Ross, to her in his kitchen making dinner for them both.
They'd spent the weekend either lounging around the house, going for walks with Scout or having a quiet drink in the back corner of the pub.
Now they were curled up on his sofa, comfy clothes on, Sunday roast demolished and the latest series they had vowed not to watch without the other person present waiting to play.
Cillian pressed a light kiss to the top of her head, making her turn her face up to look at him, giving him a smile "what's up?" She asked sitting slightly.
Cillian returned her smile, "I like keeping you to myself, is that selfish?" He asked, she bit at her lip with a small giggle "No, I feel the same way" she confessed.
It had been so nice having something so private, it meant a lot of time spent together getting to know each other slowly, no one interfering or wanting to know every detail, just the two of them in a loved up bubble.
It wasn't something they had discussed, it just felt natural they didn't want the world to know, not yet anyway and Cillian liked his life to be private.
It had only been four months the world could wait a little longer.
Send me a prompt from here!
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@cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @heidimoreton @gypsy-girl-08 @thomasshelbee @forgottenpeakywriter @shelbydelrey @allie131313 @cillixn @midnightmagpiemama @zablife @queenshelby @missymurphy1985 @janelongxox @cloudofdisney @being-worthy @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @camilleholland89 @cilliansangel @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @ysmmsy @lyarr24 @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @flyingjosephine-blog @moral-turpitudes @duckybird101 @lostgirl219 @blyanyan @flippittygibbitts @stevie75 @winchestergirl22 @stars-of-scorpio @moral-terpitude @woofgocows @lespendy @lovemissyhoneybee @pocket-of-possibilities @otterly-fey @gotohellandbackforyou @tinyminxie
#Cillian Murphy#Cillian Murphy Blurb#Cillian Murphy Prompt#Prompt List#Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader#Cillian Content#Blurb#My Writing#Prompt Request#Cillmequick#Alex 🧡#Request#Masterlist#Taglist#PeakysCillian Updates#PeakysCillian
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