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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

Priceless

Ok so here I am somehow with a second fic in a matter of, what, two ish days? Anyway, this is one that I wrote and posted last year but I reread it and it sucked so I took it down and rewrote it. Hope you like it!

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: none? swearing? Typos for sure.

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You loved him with your whole heart; there was nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, and you knew that he felt the same about you. At least, that’s what you used to believe.

Ever the one for dramatics, a three am alarm was what made you question not only your whole relationship but your whole existence. The witching hour was an ungodly time to be waking up and getting ready, no matter what the reason was. Even when it involved flying off to Europe for a destination wedding that involved Jake’s entire team.

“Babe?” you call to him, the shower just turning off. He pokes his head out, hair wet, droplets of water rolling down his face as he waited for you to answer, “We’re going to have time to stop at a Dunkin’, right?” you whine, doing everything in your power to not pass out then and there instead of finishing your packing.

“Maybe?” he says, ducking back into the bathroom before coming out with just a towel on, hanging on his waist. If you weren’t so exhausted, the things you could be doing right now, your mind wanders as he continues talking, “We have to get through TSA and I don’t think they would allow you to bring that through security, would they?”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter to yourself, throwing the last of what you needed into your suitcase, trying to find anything of Jake’s lying around that you knew he would forget. “What if I finish it in the car before we go through security?” you beg, hoping he’ll cave.

“Y/N,” he sings, “then you’re going to have to use the bathroom a million times and it’s going to be my fault.”

“Do I have to be pleasant before I get coffee in me?”

You hear him laugh from the bathroom as you lean back on the bed and close your eyes. “You wouldn’t be you if you were pleasant before your coffee, babe.” You do everything in your power to try to stay awake while he gets ready, him saying random things as he runs around getting dressed, you murmuring weak responses in return. “Hey, come on, sleepyhead,” he says, pulling you off the bed, “We’ve gotta get to Logan.”

You drive there in silence, praying for the moment you get coffee in you as you still struggle to stay awake while Jake keeps talking. The car stops, Jake pulling down the window when you finally open your eyes, seeing that you were sitting in the drive-thru line at Dunkin. “God, I love you,” you say, leaning over and kissing his cheek, a smile covering his face.

“Who’s paying, you or me?” he asks, not letting you answer due to the voice of the cashier inside coming through the speaker to take your order. Two small coffees, enough to hold you over for the drive to the airport before you get more coffee once you’re through the gate. He looks at you as you stare down at your phone, having to check your bank account to see if you even had the money to begin with. “I’ll pay for both,” he says, a calm tone covering her voice.

Money for you was tight. You had never really struggled to pay your bills and your share of the utilities, but you definitely didn’t have the amount of extra cash that Jake did because of the seemingly never-ending student loan payments you were making. “I’m sorry,” you say, taking the coffee from him so he can get to driving again. You hated having the money conversation; no matter who you talked to, they always seemed to bring up the fact that your NHL player boyfriend made more money in a single season than you had seen in your entire life. It always left things awkward, as the implication of you being a gold digger hung in the air between you and the person you were having a conversation with. “I can probably transfer some money from my savings for extra stuff, but I had really only planned on buying a few meals and a few other trinkets for my family,” you admit, staring at the low number that showed in your checking account.

“Hey,” he says, resting his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off the road, “It’s fine. Anything you want, I’ll pay for it.” You smile at him, hoping he couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye that it wasn’t sincere. That was another thing you hated: other people covering for you. You grew up being taught that if you didn’t have money for it, you either didn’t pay for it until you had the money yourself, or you forewent it entirely. Having to worry about paying someone back was unnecessary stress in your life. Or, if they were like Jake, then they would insist it was their treat, not taking the money you owed them no matter how much it was.

You look out the window, the empty, tree-lined highway lighting up as the sun rose over it, the sky turning from the dark purple night to a brilliant orange right in front of you. You had never been one to wake up for the sunrise, taking in the sight for what was probably the first time in your life. “It’s so beautiful,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this calm and quiet before.”

“I’ve seen one thing more beautiful than this,” he says, a huge smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, bracing him for the cheesy comment you knew he was going to make.

“You,” he says, proudly, trying to find your hand without looking away from the road, bringing it to his lips before connecting his back to the wheel.

“God,” you moan, both of you laughing, “That was so corny.”

“Well, they call me Chef JD, gotta have some corn sometimes,” he says, resulting in you screaming.

“I will in fact leave you if you say something like that again,” you tell him.

“Yeah? Where would you live, then?” he teases, immediately regretting his words, “Fuck, sorry.”

“I’d figure something out,” you tell him, trying to match his teasing tone so that he doesn’t think you took it the way you did. The rest of the ride to the airport is in silence, you both finishing your coffee as you pull up, seeing some of the guys getting their stuff out of their car at the same time. “Hey, aren’t international flights normally at night?” you ask Jake, Charlie, and Matt coming over to help you guys get your bags.

“Bergy booked the flight for all of us and we don’t question him,” Charlie says, pulling Jake away from you, the two of them wandering into the airport with Kylie trying to keep up with her own boyfriend

“It should be more concerning to all of you that he has to act like your father,” you say to Matt, walking with him to security. Besides Jake, you were closest to Matt. He adopted you as a pseudo younger sister, the one who knew just as much, if not more about you than your boyfriend.

Matt shrugs, watching Charlie and Jake mess around with each other in line in front of you, “It just kind of happened that way. None of us ever questioned it, like Chuck said.” The two of you watch the boys, bickering about something as they seemingly all forget their girls were standing right around them. You and Matt fall into a mundane conversation, watching Jake and Charlie together as they pass through security. The five of you gather your things, trying to find which way your gate was so you could meet the rest of the guys before boarding the flight.

Matt figured out that you were supposed to head to the left, so naturally, Jake and Charlie veered right, leaving you and Kylie with all their stuff to lug to the gate. “Where are they going?” you ask Kylie, dumbfounded as you struggle to carry Jake’s bag along with your own stuff.

“Charlie mentioned he was hungry on the way here, so I’m just hoping that’s where they’re going,” she mutters, “Dealing with all of them together is like herding cats,” clearly as cranky as you were earlier that morning as you try to stifle your laughter. Just like you, Kylie was not a person to interact with before she had caffeine in her, one of the reasons the two of you got along so well.

You get to the gate, Jake and Charlie nowhere to be seen even though you were suddenly surrounded by the rest of the Bruins roster. From the looks of the waiting area, the flight was mostly the guys and their families, and thankfully so: you would hate to be on a plane with the Bruins organization if you were outside the organization itself. You loved the boys, but god, they were loud and annoying sometimes. Everyone else on the plane would definitely hate the group, but they didn’t care. The city was fueled by the hate of everyone who wasn’t them.

Jake and Charlie finally reappear, more coffee and now food in hand. Jake hands you what he got you as you reposition yourself so you’re sitting cross-legged on the seat, slightly uncomfortable due to how scrunched up you were so you could face him. You lean over, kissing his cheek before you start eating

He turns his head to smile at you as you catch him off guard and kiss him again. “What’s this for?”

“I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you,” you say to him, taking a bite of the breakfast sandwich he got you.

Jake smiles at you, turning himself so he faces you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, gently pulling you towards him so he can kiss your forehead, mumbling something you can’t quite make out against your skin. Charlie starts chirping Jake over something, resulting in him leaving you to go argue with his teammates. You can’t help but smile as you watch Jake and his teammates. You knew he loved them, just like they loved him.

“You didn’t have coffee in you when I was talking to you before and you were actually pleasant?” Matt plops down next to you, taking your attention away from Jake.

You roll your eyes at him, even though you knew he was right, “Shut up, Gryz. Jake and I stopped for coffee on the way here. This is round two,” you say, raising the cup to him. The two of you watch some of the younger guys aggregate around Jake and Charlie, Jake telling them some story while they hang onto every word of his, laughing their heads off with every sentence. “God, he loves you guys.”

“Yeah, but you know he loves you more,” Matt says, nudging your shoulder.

“I think he loves Oreos more than he loves me sometimes,” you joke, knowing that it’s not true. Hoping that it’s not true, more like it.

“Trust me, JD loves three things in this order: you, hockey, then Oreos. He loves you more than he loves hockey. Nothing you can do will change that.”

You both laugh, the announcement for your flight to board interrupting the noise the rest of the guys were making. Jake rushes over to your side, picking up the bags both of you were planning on bringing onto the plan, practically pushing Matt out of the way. He kisses you on the cheek, a soft smile on his face.

“What?” you ask him, linking your arm in his.

“I love you,” he says, getting in line behind some of the guys.

“I love you, too,” you say, leaning your head against his arm.

“Ready for seven hours on a plane with these fools?” Jake asks, using his other arm to gesture to the rest of his teammates.

“I’m only ready because you’re with me,” you say to him in a sing-songy voice.

“Woah! So you can be corny, but I can’t?” he jokes, sending you two into a flirty bickering match as you board the plane with everyone. You get settled into your seats, resting your head on his shoulder to hopefully fall back to sleep despite the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins. You can hear the guys talking around you, probably annoying the rest of the passengers on the flight more than they intended.

You end up in that half awake-half asleep state while on his shoulder, the sounds of the rest of the guys fading in and out as you did. You could feel Jake occasionally kissing the top of your head, resting his on yours in an effort to go to sleep like you were. Both of you were woken up by the sound of the flight attendant coming through with food, the long flight warranting a hot meal, you and Jake being handed something different than the rest of the people around you.

“What is it?” you whisper to him once the flight attendant has passed by you.

“None of the free meals looked good so I got us something different,” he says, taking a bite of what looked like chicken covered in some sort of sauce.

“We could have just done the free meal so you wouldn’t be paying for me again,” you mumble, a little annoyed that he didn’t even ask when paying for food made things awkward earlier that morning.

You sit there in silence, eating the food that Jake bought you. Honestly, it was airplane food, not something that you had even wanted in the first place but you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Charlie,” Jake says, getting up without saying another word once the food is gone, leaving you to sit there by yourself with the other people in the row.

You try to find something to watch on the screen in front of you, only to be interrupted by Matt appearing and Jake’s seat, startling you as you rip out the headphones you had on while the first movie available was starting to play. “Your boy just kicked me out of my seat by sitting on top of me.”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing the other passengers' reactions around then as the grown men that were Jake and his teammates acted like absolute children. “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he did that or that fact that I’m not shocked that he did that.” You watch him with Charlie, your smile fading as his grows.

“Hey, what’s up?” Matt asks, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“Same argument that we haven’t really fought over yet.” Matt was the only one on the team that knew about the seemingly never-ending awkwardness that surrounded you and Jake when it came to money. “It’s not getting worse, but it’s more frequent. I’m just worried we’re gonna end up blowing up at each other and losing each other in the process,” you tell him, fixating on the screen in front of you.

You hear him exhale, looking over to see a sad look on his face. A single lock of hair falls down in front of his forehead, moving along with the rest of his head, “Couples fight. I don’t want to tell you that you should have this argument this weekend, but you have to talk about it. And I mean really talk about it, not just the vague undertones you two constantly have dancing around the subject.”

You stare at him, slightly confused at how something like that came out of him, “I don’t like how you said that so eloquently,” you laugh, Matt throwing his head back to join you.

“But you know I’m right,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” you huff, waving him off.

Without another word, he hands you his other earbud, starting a movie on his screen that would hopefully last the rest of the flight. You rest your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the screen, picturing Jake in his place.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have at some point because the next thing you know, the movie is over, the plane is about to land, and Matt is trying to get you off his shoulder so he can get back to his seat. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder gently. “Jake’s coming back,” he says, acting as if he didn’t want to get caught with you asleep next to him.

“Hi,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes as he plops back down in his seat, him kissing your cheek as you now struggle to stay awake. “It’s like, the middle of the night now, isn’t it?” you ask him, having no idea the time difference between Boston and where you were.

“I think it’s like 10 pm. I didn’t realize I was dating an old woman,” he jokes, pulling a laugh from you.

“You wear me out, babe,” you say, everyone getting up from their seats, the boys making more noise than anyone on the plane as people anxiously waited to get off.

“And you keep me young,” he says, giving you a quick peck before handing you your bag.

You hear someone groan behind you, turning to see Matt standing there already waiting for the two of you to move out of his way. “I’m not going to hang out with you if you’re like this the entire trip” he teases.

You can’t help but scoff, playing into the teasing nature of his comment. “Sorry, bubs, you’re the only one who didn’t bring a date so that makes you our third wheel.”

“I could third wheel any of the guys here and you know that,” he tries to defend himself as Jake grabs your hand and starts to pull you off the plane.

“That’s a weird thing to brag about,” you tell him, the three of you walking in a line to go get your bags, you and Matt carrying a conversation while Jake stands off to the side, not paying attention to the movement of the unfamiliar airport around him.

Everyone waits outside for whatever transportation Patrice had arranged to the hotel, still unsure how he swung any of the details he did. The guys had way too much energy considering how many hours they spent cooped up on a plane. You were exhausted, the coffee practically gone from your system as you tried to convince Jake to just go back to the hotel room with you and spend the night in. “Please?” you beg him, draping yourself on his arm as he waited to get your room keys.

“But the guys want to explore the city,” he whines, jutting his lip out to you.

“I have no more coffee in me,” you whine back. He pouts at you, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to try to convince you to stay in or go explore with the guys. “I will do anything you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, pulling you close to him, “Anything?” he asks, forgetting the guys surrounding you as he kisses you, his grip around your waist tightening as his teammates start teasing the two of you.

“Hey, JD! Save that for the bedroom!” Matt chirps, your face turning bright red at his words.

“Ah, fuck off and let me love her,” he says, his forehead against yours. “I think I like the sound of the bedroom.”

You ignore the chirps from the boys as he kisses you again, the heat in your cheeks not subsiding until the two of you get to your room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the guys? Apparently, the nightlife is supposed to be awesome in the city,” Jake says, flopping down on the bed. You had been there all of two seconds, and he was already starfished on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

You sigh, sitting down next to him. “I told you I don’t want to go out,” you repeat, a little more annoyed than you intended to sound. “I’m tired, and when we go out, we’re going to end up spending more money and-” you stop, cutting yourself off as Jake sits up.

“Hey,” he says, taking your hands in his, “I told you I would pay for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. To me it is. I don’t need you to keep paying for me for everything. I don’t want you to.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Were you really about to have the fight you and Matt talked about on the plane in your hotel room? “Don’t you get it? You have so much money while I’m constantly struggling to make ends meet because of fucking loans. Do you know what it’s like to be a grown adult and live off someone else's money, the constant looks from people when I talk about you that say they think I’m just dating you for your money? That unless you’re home and go grocery shopping for us, I have to choose between food and gas until you get back? All I am is a fucking burden.”

“What, you think I don’t know about all of that? Why do you think I pay for you? So you don’t have to worry about food and gas,” he says, getting up.

“And I hate that you do that!” you snap, “That you feel like you have to. It’s like a slap in the face that I can never pay for anything and you have to pay for everything.”

“So what do you want me to do? Stand by and watch you struggle when I have the means to help you?” The volume of his voice matched yours, hearing doors in the hallway opening and closing, praying that it wasn’t other guests trying to figure out what room the screaming match was coming from.

“I don’t mind if you help out once in a while when I really need it but it’s stuff like the second round of Dunkin’ when I could barely get the first, the meal on the airplane when they give out free ones, or when you keep asking to go out, knowing that we’re going to spend money after I told you no.” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing past you and out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going out with the guys. You want something, you can get it yourself, see if I care,” he hisses, leaving you standing there with the door propped open by your foot, watching him walk away. Matt gets off the elevator when he tries to get on, saying something you can’t make out when the elevator door closes.

“What the hell happened?” Matt asks, looking between you and the elevator.

You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears that were forming, knowing that there were other people in the hallway that had just witnessed the end of whatever that was. “Remember the fight you said we would have? We just had it,” you tell him, flopping down on your bed with your hands over your face. You let out a long groan, feeling the weight of Matt’s body sink the corner of the mattress down. You knew he was giving you that sympathetic look that was going to make you more upset, feeding into your already upset nature just that much more.

“What happened?” Matt repeats.

“We just finally snapped. God, of all places to have a stupid fight like this, we have at the night before your teammate is supposed to get married. I mean, fuck, we’re in Barcelona, for god's sake and you and I are here watching me mope instead of exploring like we should be.”

“Well, who says we can’t?”

“My bank account.”

Matt pries your hands off your face, forcing you to sit up despite you clearly not wanting to. “There’s so much to do in Barcelona at night that doesn’t involve spending money. We can find the guys no problem, probably doing something free.”

“And how do you expect we do that?” you ask him as he tries to drag you off the bed, grabbing the room key on the way out the door.

Matt waves his phone in the air, a smug look on his face. “I have the location of everyone on the team, past and present, on Find My Friends.”

You hesitate for a minute, your wallet and bag sitting right there by the door for you to grab to go join your boyfriend and his teammates and try to enjoy the night despite the fight you just had. “Matt,” you try to protest, your eyes darting back and forth between him and your bag. You didn’t want to worry about Jake on the night out, but you knew you couldn’t be spending a lot of money. You had been out with the guys too many times before when Jake promised they wouldn’t be big spenders, only to go home and have to worry about how you were going to survive to the next paycheck.

“If you want anything then I’ll pay for it and you pay me back with food or something. Y/N, Jake is wandering Barcelona with Charlie right now, probably just as upset as you are,” he tries to reason with you. “There’s no point in sitting here alone in your hotel room when you’re in a city that you’ve been talking about visiting for as long as I’ve known you.”

You let out a groan, knowing that he was right. “I can’t stand you,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and heading out the door with him.

Matt had his phone pulled out, trying to navigate the city based on a little dot that showed your boyfriend’s location. You had no idea where you were going, and, to be honest, you weren’t sure that Matt had any idea either. You had never been in a situation where the two of you had to wander through unfamiliar territory before, but something told you it was going to be a while before he figured out how to get to the rest of the guys.

“Matt, this is useless. We’ve been walking around for over an hour already,” you tell him, sitting down on the bench that was just off the path you had been taking.

“It hasn’t been an hour, you’re being dramatic.”

Matt sits down next to you as you pull out your phone. “We left the room at 10 pm. It’s 11. That’s an hour,” you snap at him, clearly hating that you can’t find them. “I just want to see Jake,” you mutter.

“Have either of you calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with each other? You know, not a screaming match?” Matt asks you, watching the small dots that represented his teammates move around his phone screen. “If you want to try to figure out your way around here, when neither of us speaks the language to ask for directions, we can. If not, we go back to the hotel.”

You stare at his phone, seeing JD, CM, TF, two JS’s, and a DP altogether, somewhere off the road where neither of you were able to figure out how to get to them. You shake your head, thinking about Matt’s words: you weren’t sure you were cooled off enough to talk to Jake rationally, and you had a feeling he was still the same. “Let’s just find our way back to the hotel,” you tell him, getting up off the bench.

You look at Matt, the look of sympathy covering his face as he follows you back the way you came. You probably could have easily found Jake and the rest of the guys, working out whatever the hell you needed to before the wedding tomorrow. If you couldn’t work it out, what did that mean for your future, though? If you didn’t live with Jake, you would be struggling way more than you were now, probably living paycheck to paycheck without the luxury of everything Jake did for you.

Were you wrong to be mad that he was trying to help?

The two of you get back to the hotel, the empty lobby eerily echoing with your footsteps on the marble floor. You hadn’t even noticed it before, the hotel you were staying at was probably the nicest one you had ever set foot in. You were tempted to sit on one of the chairs in the lobby, wait there for Jake and the rest of the guys to come back despite the fact that they would probably be drunk off their asses when you saw them.

Matt puts his hand on your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to stay down here and wait?” he asks you, reading your mind, “Or, do you want to go back to either your room or mine?”

“I don’t want to impose,” you try to protest.

“So, you’d rather go back to an empty room and wallow alone instead of sitting on my bed, eating ice cream, and watching a movie,” he tempts you, raising his eyebrows with his offer.

“I don’t want ice cream.”

Matt scrunches his nose, letting out a laugh. “I never said the ice cream was for you. It’s summer, I can cheat on the nutrition plans a little more right now.”

He manages to pull a laugh from you, the two of you heading up to his room. You plopped yourself on his bed, your hands behind your head while you couldn’t take your mind off Jake. You really didn’t want him to be as miserable as you felt, but part of you also did want that. Was that bad?

You knew you had to set boundaries. You knew you couldn’t live without him, both financially and in life in general.

“You know,” Matt says, pulling you out of your thoughts yet again, “The guys are back here at the hotel. If you wanted to go back to your room, I’m sure you could talk to him now.”

You roll over, your back facing Matt. “I don’t think he would want to talk to me.”

Matt sighs, lying down next to you and staring up at the ceiling. “Like I told you in Boston, Jake loves you more than anything. If I know anything about him, he’s just as miserable as you are, probably back in your room panicking about where you are.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “This is your way of trying to get me out of here before the ice cream comes and you feel like you have to share with me, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, sitting up to get ready to go. “Oh, of course.”

You head out, opening the door, caught off guard by who was standing there. “Jake?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. “I thought you would be here.” You nod, both of you standing there in an awkward silence as you held the door to Matt’s room open. You didn’t know if you should speak first or wait for Jake to do it, and apparently, he felt the same.

“As much as I love just staring at you two,” Matt breaks the silence. “Would you be able to do this with my door closed? You can be in here, but,” his voice trails off. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever it was you were about to talk about even though he already knew.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell him, letting his room door close behind you as Jake took your hand in his, leading you down the hall to your room.

You don’t say anything until you get into your room, both of you sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he says, his hand still in yours but unable to look at you.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you repeat, for lack of better words to say. “We need boundaries. I get that you want to pay for things, but I need you to ask me before you do, especially if it’s something we don’t necessarily need.”

“Ok,” he draws out, trying to figure out how to frame his words. “Would you be ok with asking me for help when you need it? You know I can help you, and it kills me seeing you struggle when I have the means to make this stop.”

“I just want you to ask.”

He smiles at you, raising his hand to cup your face. “I will,” he says, his lips finding yours for a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night together, trying to figure out boundaries of what and when Jake can lend you money, what should be paid back, what he doesn’t want back, everything. It was the conversation you should have had years ago, yet never did.

The next morning, you get ready for his teammate's wedding, slipping on the dress, your back towards Jake while he put on his suit. “Can you zip me up?” you ask him while he adjusted his sleeves.

He comes up behind you, his fingers holding the small zipper and slowly pulling it up your back. Jake wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in front of the mirror hung on the wall of the room, his head nestled on your shoulder. “I can’t wait until we get married.”

You laugh, craning your neck to kiss the side of his head. “That’ll be an expensive day, won’t it,” you joke.

“Yeah, maybe. But spending the rest of my life with the girl I love? That’s priceless.”

#jake debrusk #jake debrusk imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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babbushka · 3 years

Text

5 Times Flip Ruined Valentine’s Day (And 1 Time He Didn’t)

Flip Zimmerman x Reader (Darling Jewish Wife AU)

11k ; cw: mild angst, mostly fluff & humor, mentions of baby zimmerman, mentions of war, mentions of undercover with the klansmen, brief hospitalization (sex injury), NSFW (PIV, fingering, praise kink, begging, finger sucking, multiple-orgasms, mild lactation kink, implied marathon sex)

Available on AO3

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L is for the way you look at me

February 14th, 1962. Flip Zimmerman is twenty-three years old and has finally worked up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. After months of pining, months of agonizing, months of Jimmy makin’ fun of him for being such a chicken, he finally asked and you stunned him by saying yes straight away. It’s his first Valentine’s Day with you, but more than that, it’s his first Valentine’s Day ever. Flip has it all planned out, he’s going to make sure that this memory is a perfect one, wanting to prove to you that he can be not only your best friend, but the best boyfriend.

Oh, if only life were that easy.

It had started out innocently enough, at least he likes to tell himself that. Not wanting to go too big too fast and run out of room on the very first holiday, Flip decided to keep things simple. He was going to cook you dinner. A real dinner too, with all five courses and a dessert. You didn’t know this, but Flip had been taking cooking lessons secretly after his shift at the lumber mill twice a week. He felt bad, knowing that you always do the cooking whenever you’re together, and dammit he plans on marrying you one day, so he figures he better get his act together now. His Ma had even given him the go-ahead to use the good china.

He doesn’t know when exactly, it went wrong.

“Hey Jim, are you busy?” Flip’s just finishing up his shift at the mill, when he calls his best friend to try and get some extra muscle, “I’m about to head to the market, help me with these groceries?”

He had told Jimmy about the plan of course, mostly because he told him everything. He loved telling you everything too, but this was one of those things that he had made Jimmy swear to secrecy, so as to not fuck up the surprise.

“Sure thing, pick me up?” Jimmy’s cheerful voice crackled over the phone line, and with an affirmative reply, Flip is practically bounding out of the little office where he works, and is grabbing his keys.

Ten minutes later, Jimmy is in the passenger seat, reaching into Flip’s jacket pocket for the grocery list, wondering what the hell Flip needs his help for.

“So what’s on the list anyway – holy shit this is a lot of stuff, Flip.” Jimmy’s eyes widen comically when the grocery list seemingly never ends, and he tries to make heads or tails of Flip’s shitty handwriting.

“I know! I’m doing a soup and a salad and then making these bread rolls that I know she’ll love and then for the appetizer course I’m doing – ” Flip doesn’t catch the concern in Jimmy’s voice, so focused on driving down to the market, focused on his mission.

“Uhh, are you sure about all this? Don’t you remember what happened that time you tried to boil water?” Jimmy very gently cuts Flip off, only keeping his best friend’s interests at heart.

Flip, for his part, sours and shoots him a glare, snatching the list back from his friend’s hand.

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve been taking lessons. I got this, now would you help me find everything? I figure it’ll be faster with the two of us, and I really need to get started before she comes over.” There’s a distinct edge to his voice that’s the closest thing to panic that Jimmy’s ever heard – at least since the day that Flip broke his clavicle on that snowboarding accident a decade ago.

Once in the grocery store, Flip can’t help but feel cocky. Between the two of them, everything on the list is found with time to spare, which is good because now that he’s really doing this, Flip won’t deny he’s got butterflies. It has to be perfect, he thinks, it just has to.

“Alright that’ll be everything I think – oh!” At the checkout register, Flip quickly grabs a big chocolate bar of your favorite kind, and adds it to the already enormous pile of shit, “And this too, please.”

Jimmy helps Flip load all the paper bags into the car, and then is a good friend and helps bring everything inside the house. Flip doesn’t let him stick around to help, instead shooing Jimmy out with a big plate of his Ma’s homemade cookies as a payment for all the help, and finally letting out a deep breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding.

“Okay Phil, you can do this.” He whispers to himself, “It’s just like class.”

And surprisingly, it was just like class. Flip prepared all the vegetables and got all the dishes starting in the correct order so they’d be finished in time for your arrival – which was in exactly half an hour. He doesn’t know how the fuck he managed to pull this off, but he’s not about to go tempting fate or anything, so he decides that now would be a good time to freshen up so he doesn’t smell like raw onions when you get there.

Flip agonizes over what to wear, eventually settling on a nice dress shirt and some slacks, willing his hair to part neatly. He hopes you don’t think he looks stupid, he – the doorbell rings, and he sucks in a sharp breath to himself.

Without another second’s hesitation, Flip moves to the front door and opens it, momentarily stunned by your beauty. He should have lit up a cigarette, he thinks, because all of a sudden his hands are shaking, just from the sight of you.

“Hi.” He blurts out inelegantly, but you only give him a big smile.

“Hi, you look really handsome.” You bat your lashes and bite the inside of your cheek, and some of the tension in Flip’s shoulders slip away, because he realizes that you’re nervous too.

Taking in the sight of you, it’s very clear that you tried hard to look nice for him, something that blows Flip’s fuckin’ mind. How’d he ever get so lucky to have a girl like you want to be his? Your nails are freshly done, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen you in this dress before, you even put on some perfume. The scent of it curls up in his nostrils, and he tries to think of something to say so that he isn’t just staring at you.

“You too.” Is the genius move he comes up with, immediately tripping over his tongue, “I mean, you’re beautiful, not that you’re not also handsome, if you want to be, I – ”

“Can I come in?” You give him a break, and he’s grateful for it.

Opening the door wider for you, he steps to the side and mentally kicks himself for being such an idiot.

“Yes. Yes please do, please come in.” Flip tries his best to remember the manners that he was raised on, although it’s difficult when you’re so beautiful and you’re here and you’re his girlfriend. “Let me take your coat?”

“Sure, thanks.” You grin, before your smile falters and a deep concerning frown dimples your forehead, “Say, something smells…um…Flip is something burning?”

Flip frowns too then, filling his lungs, trying to figure out what you’re talking about when it hits him --

“My roast!” Flip shouts, bolting into the kitchen.

What had just been a perfectly cooked dinner not thirty minutes prior, was now a large grease fire, with flames licking up high high high into the air, threatening to touch the ceiling and spread across the kitchen.

“Fuck – fuck shit! God dammit!” Flip frantically begins searching for something, mind going into overdrive to put the fire out. He grabs a bag of something, he doesn’t even know what it is, flour maybe? All he remembers from the class is to never ever throw water on a grease fire, otherwise he’d really be in trouble.

“Oh my god the stove!” The soup on the stove has boiled over and hit the gas burners, there’s smoke coming out of the oven in thick dark plumes, and you scream, “Where’s your fire extinguisher?!”

“Under the sink!” Flip remembers all of a sudden, and lunges to the cabinet under the sink, yanking on the pin and letting the white frothy foam explode out of the nozzle.

Flip pushes you to stand behind him as he puts the fire out, like some hero in an action movie, but instead of praising his heroism, you run out of the room to the phone in the hallway and dial the emergency number.

“I’m going to call the fire department, the flames could be inside the wall.” You shout to him, opening up the windows to air the place out as you go.

Ten minutes later, the fire department is crawling all through his house, and every single one of the neighbors is standing outside on their front lawns like the nosy people they are. Flip is sitting with you on the front porch, his head hung low between his knees, as you rub his back.

“God my Ma’s gonna fuckin’ murder me.” He groans, praying that the fire didn’t get big enough to ruin the whole kitchen.

“We’ll explain to her that it was just an accident.” You lean your head against his shoulder and keep him calm, a soothing balm that cools all his frayed edges. “We’re okay, and that’s what matters most, right?”

He looks at you then, cups a hand to your cheek and gives you a sheepish sigh.

“Yeah.” He grumbles, really desperate for a cigarette now, “I’m real fuckin’ sorry sweetheart, I had it all figured out and then…”

One of the firefighters walks past him, and Flip just gestures to him with a sigh.

But you, somehow, somehow you’re an angel and all you do is laugh, nudging his side with your elbow, making him look at you with an eyebrow raised. Of all the reactions that he had expected you to have, laughter wasn’t one of them.

“Hey, at least we’ll have a story to tell the grandkids one day.” You offer, and in that one little sentence, Flip’s heart beats double time.

“You’re not dumping me?” His eyes widen in surprise, because he was sure, so sure that that’s where this fucking day was going, he wouldn’t blame you if you had, he almost burned the house down after all.

“Dumping you! After how hard you worked and tried? No way.” You shake your head, almost sounding offended by the thought. “In fact, I think it makes me want to date you even more now. Just promise me next year, we stick to flowers or chocolates, okay?”

“Oh, speaking of which – ” Flip remembers, reaches around for something in his pocket, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It’s pitiful really, the way that the chocolate bar from the grocery store has slightly melted and broken while being in his back pocket this entire time, but he figures, no better time than right now to give it to you.

And even though you’re laughing, your arms corralling him into a tight hug to kiss the side of his face and reassure him that you think the gesture was very sweet, Flip still can’t help but feel…well…burned.

O is for the only one I see

February 14th, 1967. Flip Zimmerman is thirty years old and officially (!!) your fiancée. It only took him five years to propose, but you knew Flip, and you knew how hard and long he thought about things like this, wanting everything to be perfect. And it had been, the trip to Egypt was a dream come true! The wedding was set for next month, March 18th to be exact, but Flip didn’t want to rest on that excitement to not give you the incredible Valentine’s Day he’s always dreamed of giving you.

True to his word, the previous few holidays have been spent very lowkey, a quiet night at a nice restaurant, dinner prepared by someone that wasn’t him, chocolates and champagne and big bouquets of roses.

But things were different now, he wasn’t just some lowly boyfriend who worked at the family lumber mill – no, now he was a Detective with the CSPD and more importantly, your fiancée and that had to mean something. He wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t going to start slacking now that you’ve agreed to tie the knot with him.

“Ketsl? It’s me.” Flip’s just finished changing out of his work clothes in the rec room, into something more put together for the surprise date he’s about to take you on.

“Hi honey! I’m almost ready, I’ll be all done by the time you come home.” Your voice is bright and fills him with warmth from the other end of the line.

“Remember to wear something comfortable.” Flip flicks the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk, looking at the picture of you he keeps framed right next to the phone, that way it’s like you’re really there, even when you’re not.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” You have that pleading tone in your voice that usually Flip can never deny, but today is a different day, a special day.

“No way, then it won’t be a surprise, would it?” He chuckles into the receiver, and you groan playfully, eventually conceding.

“Okay, I love you, see you soon.” You blow kisses into the phone, and Flip shoots glares to any and everyone who dares to make fun of him for that.

So what if he’s in love? Who could fault him for that?

He had it all figured out. After the disaster that was the grease fire, Flip decided that this year there would be no adventurous cooking. Since that Valentine’s Day, he had moved into a small house right off 21st Street with you, and the last fucking thing he wanted was to burn down that kitchen too.

Instead, Flip had gotten tickets to a play you had been dying to see at the Denver Center for the Preforming Arts. It was a bit of a drive, but the trip would be worth it, especially considering the seats he was able to get thanks to a friend over at Denver PD. He was going to take you out to a nice dinner beforehand, which meant if you were going to make it in time, he needed to hit the road now.

His car makes it halfway to his house, when there’s a strange rattle that comes from somewhere inside the dash.

“Excuse me?” Flip says out loud to himself, praying that what he thinks is happening, isn’t happening right now.

A light goes off on the dash, and then another, and then somehow another light, all lighting up on the dash, as his car rattles and makes all sorts of noises that he knows he can’t fix with his tire-jack.

“Oh no,” He groans, as the car comes to a rolling stop, the engine failing for whatever fucking reason, “No no no.”

Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, he’s already doing the mental math and knowing that he’s going to be late – if he gets home to you at all. To avoid risking an accident, Flip manages to urge the car to the side of the road, and he chucks the flashers on.

“This cannot fucking be happening, not now.” Flip gets out of the car, goes around to the front and opens up the hood. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to fix things, he was handy and took mechanics in high school, but shit high school was some fuckin’ time ago and he doesn’t even know where to look first, anger and frustration bubbling up inside his chest. “How the fuck am I – Flip, remain calm. De-escalate the situation.”

Two seconds later, he still can’t figure it out, and he slams the hood shut with a loud, “God fucking dammit!”

There’s only one choice, Flip knows. He has to walk to the nearest gas station and use their phone for help. Luckily, he knows of one not too far away, you always give them a gift basket of homemade treats for the winter holidays.

As he walks down the sidewalk, leaving his car there on the street without much other choice, he feels…something.

A light plip of water on his shoulder.

Dread creeps up into his throat, because that plip turns to a downpour in five seconds flat, and Flip really had to just stand there, take a moment, and try not to scream out his frustration as the rain pours and pours and pours out of fucking nowhere.

By the time he makes it to the gas station, he is soaked to the bone, and livid.

The door to the gas station swings open and Flip steps inside, taking deep breaths to try and preserve some dignity that he has left. Of course, he had an umbrella, but it was in the car, and he wasn’t about to double back when he was already wet. The look on his face must have been murderous, because the cashier at the counter approaches him tentatively.

“Hey man, are you okay?” The guy asks. Really he’s a kid, probably not more than sixteen, and Flip composes himself as he lights up a cigarette now that he’s sure the drenching downpour won’t put it out immediately.

“My car broke down a couple miles up the road, can I use your payphone?” He sucks down a couple drags, pulling out his wallet and fishing for a few coins.

“The payphone is out of order.” The kid replies, and Flip freezes, letting that information settle into his bones.

“Of course it is.” He mutters, teeth nearly pinching through the cigarette that he’s now smoking like it’s the last one he’ll ever have.

The kid notices Flip’s darkening mood, and thinks for a minute or two, before noticing one of the other people in the gas station.

“But hey! My buddy here is a mechanic and drives a tow truck. He can give you a lift, can’t you Tony?” The kid offers on his friend Tony’s behalf, and Flip tries not to get his hopes up.

Tony, another teenager who looks like he just got his license, maybe a little older, pops up from around one of the aisles with his arms full of chips.

“Sure thing sir, where you headed?” Tony smiles brightly, and Flip just smokes smokes smokes.

“21st street.” He offers, praying that this kid knows where that is.

By the way his eyes light up, Flip thinks that maybe, just maybe, his luck is turning.

As it would turn out, Flip’s house isn’t too far from the mechanic shop that Tony works at. On the way to his house, they strike up a deal to get the car looked at and fixed up before the day was over.

It’s still pouring rain, Tony pulls the tow truck up to the curb and Flip opens the door, reaching over to shake his hand.

“Thanks, I appreciate this a lot.” Flip says, feeling much less angry and now sort of…defeated.

“No problem, I’ll give you a call when we’ve fixed her up.” Tony gives Flip’s hand a hearty shake, “And thanks again for paying for my snacks, that was pretty cool.”

They part ways, and he only gets two steps closer to the front door when it flies open and you’re rushing out into the rain to hug him, holding him close.

“Phil!” You bury your face in his chest, and automatically Flip’s arms wrap around you tight. “Oh thank god I was so fucking worried about you! It’s been hours! What happened?”

You pull away enough to cup his cheeks in your hand and search his gaze, eyes wide and worried, and Flip’s chest sinks. It’s like the first Valentine’s Day all over again, he sighs to himself, feeling just as shitty now as he had when it was a disaster then.

“The car’s in the shop, I’m sorry ketsl, I tried.” Flip shrugs, not knowing what else to do, or say.

“I know handsome, I know.” You stretch up onto your tiptoes to press a deep kiss to his lips, before grasping his hand in your own and tugging the both of you out of the rain, announcing, “But I planned for this.”

“How the hell could you have planned for this?” Flip mumbles, but you just throw a smile over your shoulder to him, trying to get him into a better mood.

“I had a feeling you’d do something extravagant, and we both know how that tends to turn out – ”

“Hey.”

“So I made us a special dinner and figured we could watch those old black and white movies together like we used to do all the time. Maybe have some champagne in the bubble bath as a pregame.” You waggle a brow, as the both of you find shelter in your front room, door locked safely behind you.

Water drips from your hems onto the floor, and you reach for a very conveniently placed towel that happens to be right by the door, offering it to him.

He has never wanted to marry someone more, in his entire life, than he wants to marry you.

“Next year will be better.” He promises, kissing you sweetly, before taking you up on that promise of a bubble bath.

V is very, very extraordinary

February 14th, 1968. Flip Zimmerman is thirty-one years old and celebrating the holiday, the first Valentine’s Day together since you’ve been married, overseas.

This year was not, in any way shape or form, better.

He listens to the tape you’ve sent him, plays it over and over again just to hear your voice, hoping to drown out the harrowing experience of war just beyond his headphones. He listens to your voice, and wonders if you’re relistening to the voicemails he’s left you once upon a time, wonders if you’re having dinner with your friends, if Jimmy brought you those flowers like he had asked.

He rewinds the tape, but he knows it’s not the same.

E is even more than anyone that you adore can

February 14th, 1972. Flip Zimmerman is thirty-five and finally back home from Vietnam. He surprises you one sunny day last summer, and the two of you are practically in each other’s back pockets every day thereafter.

There is no place Flip would rather be, than with you. To anyone who didn’t know you, it might look suspiciously lovey-dovey, but no, that’s really just how you are now. You nearly lost him over there, in the war. You went three years without him by your side – you didn’t want to be more than a foot away from him if you could manage it.

This Valentine’s Day, Flip has arranged everything so that you could do just that. He had a fantastic fucking date planned for you – nothing too fancy, but special nonetheless. It was going to be a complete throw-back, he’ll take you to the diner where they now serve the Zimmerman Special -- a combo of the sub sandwiches you always order, and a chocolate milkshake to share; you can’t get the sandwiches on their own, they have to be ordered together, something that always makes your heart flutter – and then afterwards, he got passes for the mini-golf place, one of the very first dates he had taken you on all those years ago when you were first stepping into more-than-friends territory.

You’re about ready to walk out the door, and Flip is right behind you when the phone rings.

Exchanging glances, Flip seriously is tempted to ignore the phone altogether, but you raise a brow at him and he lets out a disgruntled groan, dragging his feet over to the hallway and picking the phone up.

“Zimmerman, it’s Harry.” His boss’ voice has a tone to it that already has Flip developing a localized headache right in his temple.

“Why do you sound like you’re about to give me bad news.” Flip grumbles, and Harry just sighs.

“Because I have bad news.” Harry replies, and you already seem to know what’s coming, because you close the door with a sad sigh and step out of your shoes, “Look, I’m really sorry, but Ron just gave us some new intel, looks like the boys are having some sort of get together at the Bloomin’ Tulip, and we need you there.”

He was on this case with a rookie named Ron, something about infiltrating the local klan chapter. He wasn’t happy about it, not in the fucking least, for a lot of reasons. The men were vile, and he hated spending any more time with them than he needed to, and he had really fucking hoped that he wouldn’t need to today.

“Isn’t that a strip club?” You pipe up having overheard the name of the establishment, and Flip blinks, gearing up to start shouting at his boss.

“Flip I know it’s not how you want to spend the night but – ”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s Valentine’s Day! I’m not going to a strip club with a bunch of neo-nazis on Valentine’s Day! Besides, they know I’m married.” Flip seethes, the hand that’s not holding the phone gesturing wildly even though Harry can’t see it.

You light up a cigarette and hand it to him with a kiss to his cheek, knowing he’s going to need it.

“Felix and a couple of the other guys are married too, and they’re going. I’m sorry Flip but we need to know if they’re planning anything serious.” Harry really does sound apologetic, and at the end of the day, he is Flip’s boss.

Flip looks at you, and you look back at him and give him a sad smile, encouraging him to go with a little nod of your head. You knew what you were signing up for when Flip asked your thoughts on him becoming a detective, and you had agreed all those years ago. It was part of the territory, and you weren’t about to make him feel bad for protecting the town you loved so dearly – for keeping you safe.

“When?” Flip sighs into the receiver, and he can practically feel the relief in Harry’s sigh.

“You have to be there in an hour.” Harry replies quickly, already spouting off directions and whatever other bullshit that Flip’s not listening to.

“Tell Bridges I’m pissed about this.” Flip eventually cuts him off, and hangs up the fucking phone without even so much as a goodbye.

With the phone slammed back onto the wall, Flip smokes his cigarette for a second and lets his shoulders sag. He really couldn’t catch a fucking break, could he? Turning to face you, wondering where you went, he finds you settling on the couch, your pretty coat hung up on the hook, reaching for a book to start leafing through.

“Ketsl I – ” Flip’s heart sinks, and he has half a mind to call Harry back and tell him that he isn’t going to go, but you shake your head.

“Go, it’s okay. Work is more important.” You reach a hand out for him, and he takes a few long strides over to the couch, kneels in front of you and holds it reverently between his palms.

Flip rests his head on your thigh, pressing small kisses to your knuckles, hating this.

“No, it’s really fucking not.” He grumbles, anxious about the thought of leaving you. “How about this: I’ll go for just a couple hours, make some excuse, and then come right back to you and we’ll go on that date?”

He’s really going to give Ron a hard time about this, Flip thinks, when you just pat his cheek lightly and pull out your wallet from the purse you’ve left on the coffee table.

“Do you need some singles?” You rifle through the thick stack of cash and count out roughly fifty dollars.

“Why do you have a ton of singles?” Flip frowns, confused, and the playful suspicion in his tone gets you giggling, a sound that rushes through Flip like the breaking of a dam.

“Don’t worry about it.” You reply, mock-defensively, before you roll your eyes and explain, “It’s from the bake sale, trade me for bigger bills?”

Flip kisses you, a loud smacking smooch right on your cheek, and fishes out his own wallet, not wanting to steal money from the bake sale. Whatever he spends on the case he’ll get back from the station, but still, that money was to go to the children’s hospital.

“I love you more than anything in the entire fucking world and I will be back as soon as I possibly can, I promise.” Flip rushes to say, as the clock chimes, letting him know he’s got to leave now if he wants to make it in time.

“Just go.” You smile, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. You kiss Flip once more, and then shoo him away with a parting, “And be respectful to the girls there!”

“Of course! I love you.” Flip calls back as he leaves the house, running back to give you one last kiss, before leaving for real.

Flip has nothing against strip clubs, not at all. He knows and likes pretty much all the dancers, from his days as a rookie himself when he would be the only one around the station to calls on his late night shifts. They know and trust him, and he’s thankful for that; especially when they see he’s clearly undercover, and know to keep an eye on him without making it too obvious.

The klansmen are exactly how Flip had expected them to be – obnoxious, loud, rude. They don’t tip well, spend most of the time jeering at the women and the rest of the time talking shit about their wives or girlfriends. Felix at one point asks Flip to join in, almost a dare to prove how masculine he is, how much of one of them he is, and the words burn in the back of Flip’s throat as he lies through his teeth.

He hates this, he hates them, everything is too loud and the beer is warm, and Flip’s having a terrible fucking time.

He also has no idea how much time has actually passed, because it’s too dark to see his watch, and there aren’t any clocks on the wall. At one point, Ivanhoe decides to get a little too handsy with one of the dancers, violating rule number one of the club, and gets the entire group of them thrown out. Flip had never been happier to get thrown out of an establishment in his life, and used that as an excuse to leave, claiming an early day at work in the morning.

When he gets back in his car and sees that it’s somehow after midnight, he curses the entire fucking way back home.

He opens the front door carefully, not wanting to come home making all sorts of noise in case you’re asleep. There’s an anchor in his stomach, he feels sick, he’s so fucking annoyed with how this day has gone, and all he wants is to be back with you

“(Y/N)?” Flip whispers, making his way through the house. “Are you awake? It’s me.”

He finds you on the couch right where you had been when he left, and despite the valiant effort you must have given to try and stay up for him, it’s undeniable that you’re dozing. Head resting on the arm of the couch, you’ve got your arms wrapped around one of the throw pillows, and Flip’s chest squeezes because he knows that should be him instead.

“Hmm?” You make a little noise as Flip’s arms scoop you up and hold you against his chest, turning off the lights on his way up the stairs.

“Shh, I gotcha honey-bunny.” Flip presses a kiss to the top of your head, feeling like the worst husband in the fucking world, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You snuggle into his chest some more, voice thick with sleep. “I ordered a pizza, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t, I can’t have my girl starving, can I?” Flip smiles weakly, bringing you into the bedroom and laying you gently down on the bed.

He tugs the stockings off your feet, works on unbuttoning your blouse to unhook your bra, knowing that must not have been comfortable. You, the spoiled princess that you are, don’t bother helping him, liking when he does all the work. Flip can’t even tease you for it tonight, the weight of how the holiday has been ruined heavy in his chest.

“The pizza place was cute, they made it in the shape of a heart.” You say, watching him with soft eyes.

“I’m going to make this up to you.” Flip promises, mind a little too exhausted to figure out exactly how he’s going to do that just yet.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters.” You shake your head, before groaning dramatically as you get off the bed much to Flip’s confusion, “Come on, let’s go shower.”

Flip checks the clock on the wall, it’s nearing up on one o’clock, and he’s sure a shower will just wake you up even further.

“You’re coming with me?” Flip asks, which is a stupid question because in the back of his tired mind, he knows that you always shower together.

“Well someone’s going to have to get the glitter out of your hair.” You give him a smile, and that stops Flip in his tracks.

“…Glitter?” Flip groans, yanking the bathroom door open and turning on the light switch, seeing how he’s completely and totally covered in the shimmery circles that he loathes probably more than anything for the way they never ever come off, “Aw fuck.”

You just laugh, and get the water running, and Flip feels like the luckiest sonofabitch that exists, even if he is covered in glitter.

Love is all that I can give to you

Love is more than just a game for two

Two in love can make it, take my heart and please don't break it

Love was made for me and you

February 14th, 1974. Flip Zimmerman is thirty-seven and is the proud father of two precious little angels, that he absolutely cannot fucking believe are his. Last Valentine’s Day was hectic with the kids being so little, but now that they weren’t so teenie tiny, he has arranged for them to be watched by his Ma for the evening.

She had of course agreed, because any opportunity she could spend with her grandchildren was a good one in her book, which let you and Flip have the evening alone together for the first time in a long time.

It was silly almost, how excited the two of you were to go out to a fancy steakhouse and have an expensive dinner, how hard you both laughed at the comedian that Flip had managed to get great seats for, even so far as being able to meet him after the show and get a photo with him.

You are still laughing about some of the jokes all the way back home, and Flip is trying his best not to feel cocky. Finally, after so many years of trying to have a good and special evening, he’s finally gotten to give it to you.

There’s some gifts waiting for you at the house that he can’t wait for you to open, but when he gets you through the door, you are on him like a bee on honey. Your hands don’t know where to settle, skimming across his shoulders, his chest, cupping his cheeks and tangling in his hair, desperate and excited in a way that makes Flip’s heart pound.

“You are so fucking sexy.” He breathes, crashing your lips to his, throwing the keys and your purse to the ground as he backs you against the door, as he holds you tight to him, licking into your mouth and working on getting you naked.

“Take me upstairs?” You moan as his teeth clamp down onto your shoulder and he sucks hickies all over your throat, head tipping back for him to get better access.

Flip groans, his cock rock hard in his slacks, and he smacks your ass to get you runnin’ up to the bedroom, chasing after you with a hearty laugh. He pinches at you and you squeak out laughter and yelps of your own, as he tackles you down to the mattress, mouth seeking yours at once.

“How’d I ever get so goddamn lucky, huh?” Flip shoves his hand into the waistband of your panties, two thick fingers pressing right up into your pussy, working eagerly to get you stretched and relaxed and ready for a good hard fucking, he grunts and groans as your pussy sucks his fingers deeper, “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard ketsl.”

“We have all night, I want you to make me come all over this house.” Your eyes glitter and sparkle in the lamp light of the bedroom, and he grins, feeling overheated in his clothes.

Pulling away much to your dissatisfaction, he works on getting himself naked, while you deal with your own clothes. He eyes you as you reveal yourself to him, and his dick twitches, wanting to thrust as far as it can go into your body, your perfect fucking body.

“Oh I will, you better fucking believe I will,” He growls, yanking your ankle and pulling you across the bed with bright laughter. Flip climbs on top of you and resumes fingering you, “This pretty pussy’s in for a long night I hope you’re ready for my big hard cock.”

Your hands squeeze at his shoulders, traveling across his back, gripping him tight as your legs part and wrap around his hips. Flip lines himself up and begins to thrust inside your wet cunt, the pulsing heat throbbing around him and making him groan, the friction so good.

Moaning and sighing together, you gasp out loud as he builds up a speed that has you bouncing bouncing bouncing on the bed. He’s managed to find your gspot right away, and he wants to make good on his promise to get you fucked until you’re thoroughly and utterly wrecked – so he figures the more orgasms he can get out of you, the better.

Kissing you deeply, groaning into your mouth, he doesn’t realize how the way he’s pistoning his hips has you moving across the mattress, until you’re grasping at his shoulders with a surprised gasp, “Wait, Flip hold on we’re a little too close to the edge.”

He shakes his head and smiles down at you, wanting you to know that you’re always safe with him.

“I’ve got you baby, you don’t worry about a fucking thing – ” He starts saying, not realizing just how close you both really were, and with one particularly eager thrust, the two of you go toppling over the side entirely, landing with a loud thud on the floor.

Shit, he thinks, as he rolls off of you, scrambling to pull out and make sure you’re okay.

When he looks at you, expecting you to be laughing and scolding him and telling him all about how you were right, and instead sees a small trickle of blood across your forehead from where you’ve hit your head on the corner of the nightstand, his body runs cold.

“(Y/N)?” At once, he begs smacking lightly at your cheeks, a heaving feeling starting to rise up in his stomach as he shouts, “Oh my god, I killed my wife!”

Flip’s military training kicks in, and all he can think about is getting you to the hospital. He grabs a pair of pants off the floor and doesn’t even realize he’s put them on backwards, as he wraps you up in the sheet and runs with you down the stairs. His heart thuds and tears blur his eyes, but he swallows them down because you’re okay you have to be okay he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you’re not fucking okay.

“Oh my god,” Flip manages to get the bleeding to stop by bunching up the sheet and pressing it against your forehead, and he keeps one hand on you as he speeds through every single red fucking light in Colorado Springs on his way to the emergency room, “Oh my god oh my fucking god.”

The hospital isn’t too far, and thankfully him being a police officer gives him some special perks – like leaving his truck parked right on the curb as he practically kicks the doors open. He’s got you wrapped up in a sheet, carrying you bridal style with thick streams of tears pouring down his cheeks, shouting and shoving his way through the waiting room.

“Everyone out of my fucking way – can someone help my wife?” He’s frantic, must look like a fucking lunatic, but, “She won’t wake up I don’t know what to do.”

“Bring her this way, hurry!” One of the nurses who happens to recognize him buzzes him in, and he doesn’t let you out of his arms until you’re surrounded by nurses and a doctor is on the way.

He watches as they wheel you back somewhere he’s not allowed to go, not even as a police officer, and Flip punches the wall, hating that he can’t do anything else.

Twenty minutes later, one of the nurses has found him and given him a shirt, because he had forgotten to put one on in all the panic, and asked him what the hell was even going on. So he hangs his head between his knees and tries not to be sick, tears and snot hiccupping out of him.

“…And that’s when she fell over the side of the bed and smacked her head and started bleeding all over the fucking place which I know she’s going to hate because I just washed the carpeting this morning for her and fuck is she okay? Will she live?” He rambles on and on, twisting the fabric of this shirt that is too small in some places but too big in others, nervously, wondering what the fuck he’s going to tell everyone – what he’s going to tell his kids.

“Live? Trust me, she’s alive and kicking right about now.” The doc comes over then, sees the state that Flip’s in, and scoffs.

The words barely register in Flip’s mind before he’s running. He doesn’t even know where he’s running to, somewhere they’re keeping you, sticking his head into every room on the way in case it’s yours.

He finds you eventually, and relief makes his knees go weak. Rushing to your side, he carefully carefully carefully kisses you, the words spilling out of him all at once.

“(Y/N)! Oh honey-bunny I am so fucking sorry I didn’t mean for you to fall the way you did you were right I should have listened are you okay the doc told me you had to get stitches?” His eyes are wide with worry, but you have something of an amused if dazed smile on your lips as you comb your fingers through his hair.

“Hi Philly.” Your voice sounds rough, and Flip could cry, maybe he is crying, he doesn’t know, he’s just so happy to hear your voice. You nod, giving him a little sigh, “Yeah, just a couple right where I hit my head. Was I out for very long?”

“No, but then you were in so much pain they put you under while we worked.” The doc says, because how the hell would Flip know, he was having a nervous breakdown outside. Checking on the machines that you’re all hooked up to, he asks, “How do you feel now?”

“Like I was hit by a truck.” You sigh again, before turning to Flip and giving him a dreamy smile, “But you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Flip kisses you again, once twice three times right on the lips, before cupping your cheek and not looking away from you when he asks the doctor, “Does she have to stay overnight?”

The nurses come in then and begin to unhook the IV and pull all the cables away, bandaging you up nice and securely.

“No you’re free to go, there’s no blunt trauma or damage to the brain. All you have to do Mrs. Zimmerman, is rest up.” The doc pats your blanket-covered foot at the end of the bed, winking, “And take it easy in the bedroom next time.”

This has the both of you immediately embarrassed, feeling like scolded schoolchildren who got caught ditching class, instead of the grown adults you actually were. You give him a glance as if to say I can’t believe you told them how this happened, and he gives you back one as if to say I had to! I thought you died!

“Yes doctor, thank you doctor.” You cough awkwardly, covering your face and muttering to Flip once you’re sure everyone else is gone, “You think we’d get a free ice cream cone with how often we’re here, hm?”

“I’ll get you ice cream, do you want ice cream? We can stop by on the way home.” Flip kisses your hand, presses the tips of your fingers to his lips and smooches all over them, making you chuckle despite it all.

“Actually, that does sound pretty good.” You mull the thought over in your head, “Okay, just hand me my clothes and after I change we’ll go sign some paperwork and head home.”

It is then, that Flip realizes he forgot much more than his own shirt, when he had carried you up and away to the hospital. He looks around, wondering, hoping that the nurses had brought something for you instead of the little paper gown that you’re currently dressed in, but it seems that that hope was in vain.

“Oh…yeah…” He stalls, “Ketsl, about that…”

“You did not bring me to this hospital naked, did you??” For the first time in a long time, you give him an incredulous look, anger clouding over your face as you demand to know.

“Of course not!” Flip stammers, looking around for the proof that he, “I uh, wrapped you in a sheet.”

He holds the sheet up, still covered in the blood from your forehead,

“Philip Daniel Zimmerman!” You shout, covering your face and sinking back down into the bed, pulling the covers over your head as you realize in horror that he had somehow gotten you into the car naked, and carried through the lobby and the waiting room in nothing but a stained sheet, “God that’s so fucking embarrassing!”

“I love you so much, I love you more than anything in the entire world you are my one true love – ” Flip immediately drops to his knees, really lays it on thick as he winces, knowing that he really fucked this one up worse than all the other Valentine’s Days before it.

“Oh give me the fucking sheet.” You bemoan, snatching it from him and getting out of the hospital bed, taking stock of his own appearance.

He’s wearing his pants on backwards, and a shirt that you’ve literally never seen in your life. He’s got one sock on, and one is missing, no shoes in sight, and his face and hair are a travesty. The poor man looks awful, looks like he had spent the past hour bawling his eyes out, and with the redness in his eyes and around his nose, you’re sure that he has.

Despite it all, you can’t be mad at him. So, instead, you swallow your pride and wrap the sheet around your body like some long avant-garde evening gown, and sigh, “You’re so lucky I’m obsessed with you.”

And if anyone has anything to say about your combined appearances as you leave the hospital and head on your way to pick up ice cream from the drive-thru, neither of you notice, too glad to be alive and together to care.

L is for the way you look at me

O is for the only one I see

V is very, very extraordinary

E is even more than anyone that you adore can

February 14th, 1975. Flip Zimmerman is thirty-eight and he is sick and fucking tired of things getting in the way of this damn holiday. He is determined, absolutely fucking determined, to make sure you have the best day imaginable. He’s done everything right – and he means everything – to ensure victory in this long-sought-after, elusive battle.

Every Valentine’s Day disaster has been leading up to this, he thinks as he drives home from dropping the kids off with Uncle Jimmy. He will not be cooking, he will not be working, he has his truck tuned up and running smoothly, and he is on his way to you right now.

Fresh bagels, breakfast sandwiches, warm pastries and hot brewed coffee from that bakery down the street that you like are sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, and he’s going to surprise you with a perfect fucking day so help him.

When he comes back home, he arranges everything neatly on a tray and brings it up to you, smiling to himself that you haven’t woken up yet. He places the tray – decorated with a little rose in a vase and everything – on the dresser, and settles next to you, petting back your hair from your face.

“(Y/N),” He whispers, trying to bring you out of sleep, “Honey-bunny, wake up.”

“Mmmmorning.” You beam up at him, reaching your arms up for a hug, that he is more than happy to give.

“Hungry? I brought you breakfast.” He kisses you with a smile.

With that, you push yourself to sit up against the headboard and regard him lovingly as he leaves your side and brings the tray over. He settles it over your lap and gestures to the assortment of fresh and delicious looking breakfast choices for you to pick from, but you first lift the little rose up to your nose and give it a deep sniff, happily sighing.

“I thought something smelled good, have you been gone long?” You kiss his cheek and pat the spot next to you so he can lay in bed too, so he does, picking up a muffin and doing his best to not get crumbs all over the sheets.

“About an hour, I didn’t want to bother you on your special day.” Flip sidles up next to you and lights a cigarette, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you smile at him through the reflection of the mirror on your dresser.

“My special day huh?” You tease, knowing the track record for when Flip tries to plan something extravagant.

“Yeah, for real this time.” He’s so determined, so fucking determined, everything is going to go right if it’s the last fucking thing he does, but he doesn’t say all that.

You still hear it anyway.

“Do I get to know what we’re doing?” You prompt sweetly, almost convinced of the fact that it’s because he tries to keep things a surprise, that it all goes badly.

Flip must think so too, because he’s sighing and rolling his eyes, unhappy about spoiling the day but knowing it’s probably for the best.

“Yes, I got us a couple’s spa package. I know things have been difficult with the littles toddling around, and you do so much for them and for me, so today is all about pampering you.” He announces, and you let out a loving little squeak from the back of your throat as you aww at him, making him blush.

“That’s very very sweet, thank you honey.” You beam, excited about the prospect of a professional massage, especially because he was right; you loved your children with your entire heart but having two under two was a bit hectic at times.

“Don’t thank me yet – I don’t want to jinx anything.” Flip is quick to say, and you laugh because you know how he must be feeling right about now.

After breakfast and some lazy lovemaking in bed, the afternoon light shines brightly as you and Flip arrive at the spa.

It’s a real fancy place, the kind with a big water feature right on the wall that makes the entire lobby feel serene and luxurious. Flip is halfway expecting something to go wrong – he keeps bracing for it. But as the nice women at the front desk bring you into the couple’s massage room, everything seems to be going off without a hitch.

Hot stones are all the rage, and so for the next sixty minutes, you and Flip enjoy the peaceful quiet and mood music as the knots in your muscles vanish. Afterwards, they put some kind of mud mask on both of your faces, and add little slices of cucumber over your eyes. You both sit like that for a good while, as you’re each given a manicure and pedicure.

You get your favorite color of polish done, and Flip just asks for a clear coat, wanting his nails to look nice but not necessarily colorful. It’s fun, Flip decides, being pampered with you. Maybe this could become more of a regular thing, he sure as shit could use those hot stones now and again after a long fuckin’ week of stakeouts or pouring over paperwork.

By the time you emerge from the spa, it’s practically evening. You suggest going back home, but Flip has other plans – namely, to keep you out of the house for a little while longer. He brings you to a pizza spot that you remember fondly from your days of dating Flip back when he was working at the family mill he now owns, going out for a slice and a cola and kissing in one of the red booths in the back.

Everything is exactly the same, except everyone’s a little older, but the pizza and the company are still great. Flip can’t help but kiss you, even though you’re not in the red booth in the back, but no one seems to mind anymore. It’s been years and years of this, of Flip loving you, they’re all used to it.

Flip chucks a couple quarters into the jukebox and the two of you dance on the black and white checkerboard like you’re the only two people in the entire pizza joint, because when you’re together, it feels like you are. It feels like you’re the only two people in the entire world.

The clock strikes seven, and he knows the coast should be clear at the house by now, so he brings you home and tries not to act too suspicious. You call him out on it, but he refuses to say, manages to keep his big mouth shut the whole way home, until you’re opening the front lock and pushing the door open to reveal a romantic wonderland.

Ron and Jimmy had been working tirelessly the past two hours, blowing up heart shaped balloons, arranging big bouquets of your favorite flowers and roses of all different colors, and a thick trail of rose petals that led up the stairs to your bedroom.

Speechless, you clasp a hand over your mouth and give him a look, impressed and surprised, and Flip can only grin.

“Go up, there’s more.” He whispers, kissing you on the cheek and patting your ass playfully.

Following the trail of rose petals, you push open the bedroom door and your heart fills with so much love and appreciation for your husband, because on the bed are some carefully wrapped boxes with white satin ribbon bows just for you, along with a giant teddy bear, a bucket of ice and a bottle of expensive champagne, and your favorite kinds of chocolate.

“You are so good, you know that?” You whirl around and practically jump into Flip’s arms, hugging him and attacking his face with kisses, making him smug as shit, but rightfully so.

“Want to open them?” He offers, but you’re so overwhelmed by it all in the best way possible, you just keep hugging him.

“Oh Flip – I will, but first, please, please fuck me?” You bat your lashes up at him, suddenly desperate to feel his body against yours, desperate to feel him in and around you.

Flip hadn’t expected that right away, but that doesn’t deter him. He quickly scrambles to get everything off the bed and onto the floor or up on the dresser, and is back to you within a few moments, kissing you deeply, working to get your clothes off with a deep chuckle in the back of his throat.

“Yes, shit you’re so pretty, my pretty girl.” He scoops you up and drops you onto the bed, wrestles with you a little until you’re laughing and grinning at him, his mouth smacking smooches to your lips as he demands, “C’mere.”

“Please don’t let me fall off the side of the bed this time.” You grip his biceps and he flushes a deep embarrassed red, but brings your attention to the floor where the accident had happened all that time ago.

“One step ahead of you, ketsl.” He gestures to a series of plush pillows that he had lined up on either side of the floor by the nightstands so that if you were to fall – which he’s going to make sure you never ever do again – you’d land on something soft, “A perfectly padded landing platform.”

That is the final thing holding you back from pulling him down by his shoulders on top of you, and Flip happily goes, happily settles you underneath him, eagerly slides the head of his cock through your folds. Your pussy grows wet under his touch, and it’s not long before you’re whining for him to really give it to you, so he does – oh fuck, he does.

Lifting your hips with one of his strong hands, Flip lets your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts shallowly in small motions, wanting to get you stretched and relaxed as he sinks his cock deeper into you, making you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head when he bottoms out in your hot cunt.

“Oh! Oh yes, right there, right – yes!” You gasp as he begins to fuck you in earnest, holding your legs up and bending your body in just the right way to give him deeper action, stronger penetration that has you gasping.

Your back arches and your toes curl just from the feeling of being so full, your head tossed to the side as your hands twist in the pillowcase underneath your head, reaching up to grip the headboard that begins to shake and smack against the wall as Flip moves his hips faster and faster.

“Look at me?” He doesn’t like that he can’t see your face though, with the way you’re tucked against your arm, so he reaches for it and grips your jaw, pulls you to look at him. Your eyes are already unfocused and glassy but you’ve got the brightest smile on your face, that drops into a beautiful perfect O as he pounds into your pussy, “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? I feel like I don’t tell you enough.”

“Tell me again.” You tease, biting your lip and shaking under him, opening your hips and letting him fuck over your gspot with wild abandon, voice wobbling from the effort, “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re – so – yes! – fucking – beautiful – oh god,” Flip groans long and low as you clench around his cock, your pussy fluttering and pulsing, the tight we velvet heat sucking him in and never letting him go, making Flip’s ears ring with pleasure, “Do that thing again ketsl, do it.”

You do as he says, and your cunt clamps down hard on him, making fucking you even sweeter, the friction driving him insane, making him grind his cock as deep into you as it can go. You can feel it knocking against your cervix and you whine out in pleasure, tears from overstimulation pricking up at the corners of your eyes, clinging to your pretty lashes.

“Flip! Ohhhhh Flip, that’s so good,” You praise him, only spurring him on, making him sweat sweat sweat all over you, dripping sweat down onto your perfect fucking tits that he just cannot not kiss and lave his tongue over and suck on, “Your cock is so good honey, fuck me harder, please!”

“No, I’m gonna take my time with you, make you fall apart, make this pussy soaking wet by the time I’m done with you.” Shaking his head, Flip pulls one of your nipples into his mouth and makes you moan high and loud, and Flip doesn’t even stop when your body confuses him for the baby, and sweet milk floods his mouth.

“H-honey! Right there, right there just a little faster? Please just a little f-faster -- ah!” You’re crying now, your thighs shaking, feet kicking out your pleasure, one of your hands gripped tight in his hair and yanking hard, making him come a little into your cunt, making him never want to stop.

“I should tie you up, keep you right here under me where you belong,” Flip pulls off your nipple and grips your jaw, “Tell you how fucking pretty you look taking my big Jew dick – suck.”

Slipping a few fingers into your mouth to wet them and let them rub against your tongue, gagging you, making the sweetest choking noises spill from your throat as you try to moan and suck at the same time, Flip’s mind blanks out entirely with pleasure, a static sort of hum singing through his body as your pussy pins him and holds him.

“I-I-I’m --!” You wail, and that’s his cue to pull the fingers out of your mouth, drool stringing from your lip to his knuckles, and finds your clit, rubbing steady circles that have your body jackknifing up, tensing up and cry cry crying his name.

“That’s it ketsl, let it out, shh I know it’s good.” He massages your clit slowly, milking it as he fucks you through your orgasm, licks up the tears and sweat on your face, kisses you deeply, passionately.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop honey!” You beg, trembling against his lips, and Flip wouldn’t dare go against those wishes, not for anything.

You don’t know how many hours pass, before Flip comes in you for the final time. He crashes down onto the bed next to you, chests heaving, bodies sticky with sweat and come and tears of pleasure, of overstimulation, of love.

The night is still young, you still have to open your presents and drink your champagne and all, but for now, all he wants to do is gather your beautiful naked body into his arms and kiss you, so that’s exactly what he does.

“Fuck.” He grunts as his muscles which had been so loose from the spa day, are now burning with all the exertion. He kisses you and pinches your nose, asking with too much hope, “Good?”

“Really good.” You promise him, cupping his cheek with a pleasure-weak hand and kissing him again and again and again, until he’s smiling. You laugh and stretch a little, your entire body made of jell-o, and joke, “At this rate, we’ll be three for fuckin’ three years in a row.”

“Would that be so bad?” Flip thinks of the kids that should be fast asleep by now, and his chest grows warm.

You duck your head bashfully, feeling so loved and cared for and wanted by your husband. You always do, truly, but you can’t deny that it feels a little more special today.

“I gotta say, Flip,” You turn to face him and prop your head up on your bent elbow, “You really knocked it out of the park this time.”

If there were a Heaven, this would be it, Flip thinks as joy and elation course through his veins. He grins and punches the air with happiness, feeling like he suddenly has the energy for a victory lap around the property. You laugh at how display of theatrics, and he surges up then, wrestles with you playfully and nips at your jaw with his teeth, finally finally finally having succeeded in something he had tried for over a decade to do.

“Would you mind saying that again?” Flip echoes your earlier sentiment with cheeky sarcasm, “I didn’t hear you.”

And you can only laugh and tell him again and again, wanting him to know that you have had a wonderful, a perfect, a beautiful Valentine’s Day, not just this year, but every year that you’ve been together.

Love is all that I can give to you

Love is more than just a game for two

Two in love can make it, take my heart and please don't break it

Love was made for me and you

-------------------------

Tagging some pals! Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed :) @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @drake-bells-waxed-penis @dutchiepie @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman/you #blackkklansman #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman smut

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years

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Hello!! Feel free to ignore this but I Was always interested in how a triangle between Dib, female!reader and Gaz would play out. Like if the Reader was a family friend of Dib and Gaz and they both developed a crush on her? I love your stuff btw, keep it up!!

This ask was a pleasure to write for, Anon!! I would never ignore it, I had such a good time with it. I hope I did okay :)

"Thank you ever so much again, Membrane. It truly means a lot. I'll bring her by Tuesday at one." Your father's voice rang out through the hall to reach your ears where you stood peeking around the corner, more or less spying on the man in an oversized lab coat. Your fingers tightened their grip on the doorframe, digging into the wood.

On one hand, you were able to spend time with your friends that you hadn't seen in a while. On the other, you were hoping to spend some time with your father over the summer. In fact, just this next week you were supposed to go out camping for a couple days. It seemed that would be rescheduled for next year...again. You loved your father deeply, and you were so very proud of him and his science that aided the world, but sometimes you just wished he would be a father. At the very least, it seemed like you would be able to spend some quality time with the two other kids who felt your pain.

"Y/n, honey? Would you come in here for a moment?" Your father called out much louder than needed, but he assumed you were holed up in your room instead of eavesdropping. Putting a smile on your face, you wandered into his office. You had perfected that smile. The one you used to mask whatever disappointment would be brought on by the countless cancelled plans. You had become so skilled in the craft that you were able to hide your tears with a genuine-looking grin when your father declared he was unable to attend your 17th birthday. That had not even been two months ago.

"What's up?" Your voice was as light as a feather, almost as if you had no care in the world. You didn't wish to pick a fight. It wasn't worth it. You barely got to see him as it was, so you wanted every interaction to be as smooth and pleasant as possible.

"I'm really sorry about this, but I'll have to postpone our camping trip to next year." He strode over to you, placing a large hand on your shoulder. You couldn't see his eyes through the strands of unkempt h/c hair that fell in his face, but he sounded as if he was truly upset.

"Oh..." You threw in some slight disappointment, as it was what he expected. Despite killing all of your emotions, you were a master at manipulating them to keep your father satisfied. In response to your attitude shift, he patted your shoulder steadily and pulled his lips back in a goofy grin.

"But don't worry! Despite having to go away for a few weeks on some important science business, I've made some arrangements I think you'll be satisfied with." That smile not once ghosting from his lips, he continued on. "Now I know you'd like to come with me, but this is a project where I can't have any distractions. So, I called up Professor Membrane and asked if you could stay with them for the time being. He agreed!" He looked to you expectantly, waiting for your excitement.

"That's great, dad!" This statement was more genuine, as you were truly looking forward to seeing your friends.

"I know you haven't seen Dib and Gazlene in almost three years, so I'm sure this will give you kids ample time to catch up." Fishing a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small wallet-sized photo for you to see. It was a picture from years ago, probably one of the first times you met the Membrane kids at some science convention. The three of you stood together, all smiles, even Gaz. Everyone had to be no older than eight then. "Gosh, you were all so young. How old is everyone now? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Dib just turned eighteen, Gaz is sixteen. You signed his birthday card, remember?" You couldn't stop your tone from falling at your father's lapse of memory.

"You're right. I apologize." Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he pushed you towards the door that led into the hallway. "Now, you better get packing. We leave early tomorrow morning." You nodded, shuffling out and into the carpeted hallway. You couldn't help having mixed emotions about the whole ordeal. It was very bittersweet. A little nerve-racking as well. You hadn't seen these two in quite a long time, so you were worried whether or not you could pick up where you left off. Sure, you messaged them often and sent each other gifts on holidays and birthdays, but you vaguely wondered if you could last three or so weeks in the Membrane household without things getting awkward.

Clutching your bag tightly in your hands, you couldn't help being livid. You were hoping that, maybe, just maybe, you would be able to spend some quality time with your father on your drive to the Membrane house. But, no. Alas, your father needed to leave almost immediately. To his credit, he did drive you to the airport closest to the town your friends lived in, but instead of taking you all the way there, he pressed enough cash for a cab in your hands and sent you on your merry way. And so there you sat, in the back of a cab on your own, winding through streets that were mostly unfamiliar.

"This neighborhood look right?" The cabby asked as he pulled into the beginning of a vaguely familiar looking neighborhood.

"Um, I think so." You hoped it was right. Worst case scenario you figured you could call Dib and see if he could come pick you up. Staring out the window and watching houses pass by, you drifted into your thoughts. Both your father and Professor Membrane were prestigious scientists who were constantly busy, and when you had moved closer to the Membrane family, you often found yourself playing with the kids while your fathers worked on their science things. As you grew up, you continued to have things in common. Gaz became obsessed with video games, which you enjoyed, although you were never very good at them. Dib became invested in the paranormal, which you had an interest in. You remembered that when he was twelve, a supposed alien moved into his neighborhood and was scheming to conquer the earth or something. Dib talked about him less, but would still bring him up from time to time. You had never seen this alien, but coincidentally, every time you came to visit (which had diminished to about once a year, to eventually once every blue moon with both your father's and your own hellish schedule), this alien kid had always been absent. You were never sure if Dib was just trying to impress you with this tale of an actual alien, or to give you something to talk about, but you supposed it didn't matter.

"We're here, miss." The cab skidded to a halt at the curb in front of a very familiar unique-looking house. You knew you were in the right place. Placing your cash in the payment slot, you stepped out onto the sidewalk with your bag as the cab pulled away and vanished from sight. You thought it was a bit odd that no one was outside. Normally when you would come, the kids would wait on the porch, eager for your arrival. The house looked quiet, and you felt your stomach sink. If this set the tone for the rest of the visit, you were in for a long few weeks. Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth you pressed the doorbell. After a moment of nothing, you felt your stomach churning as every muscle tensed. You were beyond uneasy. Just as you were about to turn around and walk to the nearest motel, the front door swung open to reveal a young man who you thought was most likely Dib.

"Y/n?" You felt a grin split your face as you dropped your bag, practically jumping into his arms. He wrapped you in a hug, arms tight around you. After a moment he released you, setting you back on the ground. A silence was still hovering over you, however it was not uncomfortable. You took the opportunity to rake your eyes down his form, absolutely stunned by the difference three years makes.

"Wow, Dib...you're tall." You almost had to crane your neck up to meet his eyes. He probably stood a good few inches above six feet, which was a large jump from the last time you saw him. He had probably only been 5'10'', if that. His dark hair was virtually the same, if anything it had only gotten longer. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at his classic trench coat and large glasses that took up a majority of his face. "The piercings are new." You pointed a finger to his ears, where black gauges rested in his earlobes.

"I mean, kind of? I've had them for probably a year now."

"Oh." Your eyes fell to the concrete of the porch. Scuffling your feet, you just wanted to skip past the awkward reunion phase and get back into having a good time.

"You can come in, you know." He laughed, the sound relaxing you instantly. You scooped up your bag on the ground, following him inside. The house hadn't changed much, if at all. Dib gestured towards the couch, and the next thing you knew both of you were sitting down. You dropped your bag at your feet, and Dib couldn't help but eye it. "So, what's with the bag?" He jabbed it lightly with his foot, and you couldn't stop your jaw from clenching as you cringed. You were always unable to mask your emotions around these kids. You were never sure what it was about them, but they were the only ones you couldn't put on a face for. Maybe it was because they truly understood the things you were going through, so there was no need. You would never know.

"You don't know...? My dad has some important foreign business so I'm staying with you guys for a few weeks. Did your dad not tell you?" You wrung your hands together, gripping the inside of your cheek with your teeth. "If that's not okay, I can always use my card at a motel or something..."

"Of course it's okay. I was just caught of guard is all." Dib pulled you into another hug, trying his best to reassure you that he wanted you there more than anything. "Besides, it's not like we're strangers. We still talk. I, um, appreciate that more than you know." A chuckle spilled from his lips as his voice grew quieter with every word. "I didn't think we'd see you again." You thought you caught a faint blush settling on his cheeks, although it could have been a trick of the light.

"Yeah, me either. Shit got busy."

"I hear that." Dib let out a sigh, sinking back into the couch. Just as a silence began to take hold, the front door was thrown open.

"Dib, god damnit I called your phone like five times but you didn't pick up-" Gaz entered the room, but cut her own words off as she caught sight of your figure sitting next to her brother on the couch. "Y/n?" The usually gloomy girl perked up, setting the grocery bags she was holding down onto the floor. A smile crept onto your face as you rose from your seat on the couch, bringing her into a hug. You expected her to resist like she usually did, but she defied your expectation. "Ugh, no need to get all mushy." Gaz grumbled, but you had known her long enough to know that based on her tone, she was genuinely happy to see you.

"Nice to see you too, Gazzie."

"Well, you're still annoying as ever." Huffing, she picked up the bags and walked towards the kitchen. "You going to help me, or do I have to drag you over here by your toes, Dib?" She called sharply, Dib silently groaning as he slid further into the couch, almost falling off.

"I got it." Following your friend into the kitchen, you began to help her put away groceries. Most of it was soda, chips, and other junk food, however there were some healthy items in there.

"We haven't seen you in years." Her tone was much softer with you, unlike the razor sharp tongue she saved for her brother. You took a look at her, she had changed a bit too. Her fashion was still the same goth aesthetic, completed by chokers and heavy combat boots, but like Dib, she had gotten taller. She hadn't grown nearly as much, but enough to be a noticeable difference. The one striking thing about her was that her once long hair had been chopped quite short, and you noticed that it was in that awkward stage where it was long enough to where it repeatedly fell in her eyes, but too short to be tucked behind her ear. She was constantly brushing purple locks out of her face as she worked.

"I know. Like I told Dib, things just got busy." Placing the last can of soda in the fridge, you wandered back over to her, smiling despite her straight face. "I like your hair by the way. It suits you." Taking a chunk between your fingers, you twirled the strands, shocked when she didn't swat your hand away.

"Thanks..." Her face became painted in red, and after a moment you took your hand away.

"I'm surprised you haven't tried to hit me yet...absence really does make the heart grow fonder." Before any other words could be exchanged, the front door slammed open yet again. This time, Professor Membrane himself stepped in with several meals from the local Krazy Taco and a big container of ice cream.

"Hello, kids! I have brought dinner!" His voice was filled with excitement as he brought the food into the kitchen where you stood at the counter with Gaz.

"It's like, two in the afternoon?" Dib called from the living room, pushing himself off the couch to wander into the kitchen as well.

"Hush now, boy-child. I wanted to eat with you since it's a special occasion, and this is the only time in my schedule available. So dinner is now!" He hummed in delight as he placed the food in their spots at the table. "It's great to see you, Y/n."

"You too." You took your seat, digging into the food without complaint. The Membrane kids followed suit, each taking a chair on your side. You all ate together, giving life updates, listening to the Professor talk about his current projects, cracking jokes. All the while, you felt yourself slip back into the dynamic you had missed so much. You couldn't ignore the glances both Dib and Gaz would send your way, and any time you would catch their eyes, they would both very quickly drop their gaze to their food. However, you chopped it up to something that would stop after a day or so. After all, you were doing the same thing, unable to believe how much they had changed in the past three years.

After a half hour or so, Professor Membrane stood up, throwing his trash away and cleaning up his area. "I have to go back to work. Y/n, you can share Gaz's room if you'd like." You nodded, clearing your own spot as his kids said their goodbyes.

"Could we please watch something else?" Gaz groaned as she continued to stare at her Game Slave on her side of the couch, fingers flying across the controls faster than you could track.

"Hey, it's a new episode! Besides, Y/n likes Mysterious Mysteries." Dib countered, keeping the controller close to him. He sat on your other side, and you were caught smack dab in the middle of their bickering. It wouldn't have been the first time that night. They seemed to be worse together than you remembered.

"Do you really?" Gaz looked up from her game for the first time in the past hour.

"Well, yeah, sure." You shrank back into the couch, not liking how you had been put on the spot. You just wanted to spend time with both of them without them picking fights with one another. Was that too much to ask?

"Fine. But after this, I'm changing the channel. There's supposed to be some good horror movies on tonight." Gaz turned her attention back to her Game Slave, only backing down for your sake. Otherwise, she would have taken that controller by force.

The Mysterious Mysteries episode began, although halfway through, you began to get bored. You didn't remember the show segments being so terrible, but you didn't think you could listen to any more of the legend of Goat Man, a man who supposedly had supernatural abilities to control the minds of goats (in reality it was just some hippie who fed his goats so many treats that they followed him everywhere).

"Was Mysterious Mysteries always so...bad?" Your eyes drifted to Dib, who without protest, surrendered the remote to you.

"No. But this is why paranormal investigators get a bad rep." Crossing his arms, Dib puffed out his cheeks, pouting. You couldn't help but crack a grin. He had been making that pouty face for years. Some things never change. You passed the remote to Gaz, who finally put down her Game Slave to put on a horror movie.

"Finally, some good tv." Gaz set the remote next to her, relaxing into the cushions of the couch.

As the movie went on, you realized that you didn't like horror movies as much as you thought you did. One particularly loud jumpscare caused every muscle in your body to tense, and subconsciously, you sidled up next to Dib, grabbing at the fabric of his coat with your hands as you leaned into him. He felt grateful that the room was dark, or else you would have seen the mad blush on his face. You weren't really looking at anything anymore, rather you had your face buried in Dib's side. He put an arm around you, trying to rub comforting circles into your arm, despite his stomach feeling as if it was tied in ten thousand knots.

"Gaz, maybe we should watch something else." Dib suggested, using maximum effort to keep his voice steady. All he had wanted for the past year or so was to hold you like this, but now he couldn't even feel good about it since you were uncomfortable and scared. Truth was, he had fallen hard for you after you had began texting all the time the past couple years. Well, he guessed that he had probably been harboring these feelings for much longer than that, but he only realized it when he hadn't been able to see you.

"But it's almost over." Gaz whined, glaring daggers at Dib all the while. Without another word, she laid her head in your lap, not liking Dib getting all of your attention. Your hand reached out to find hers, taking it in your own and gripping it as if it were a lifeline.

"Gaz-"

"It's fine. I'll be fine." You interrupted Dib, face still buried in his side. Gaz would still try and glare in Dib's direction. She normally would bicker with him on the regular, but this animosity she felt towards him in that moment was of a new sort. She felt your legs tense underneath her every time there was a loud noise, and whenever that happened, she would feel a pang of guilt for putting you through this. She decided to focus on the way your hand felt in her own. It felt almost natural, and she admittedly never wanted to let go. While your face was still avoiding seeing anything until the film was over, Dib glanced down at his sister, and saw that look in her eyes. He knew his sister like he knew every corner of Zim's base (which by this point, was very well). Enough to know that she was in love. For probably the first, and possibly only time in her life. Under different circumstances, he would encourage her in her romantic endeavors, but of course, the one she had to like was coincidentally also the girl he had feelings for.

Dib had no more time to think on the matter, as the movie finally drew to a close, and Gaz turned off the tv. You untucked yourself from Dib, Gaz sitting up to allow you to stretch.

"Sorry. You both probably think I'm a little bitch." You laughed half-heartedly, just wanting to go to sleep and forget that ever happened.

"Don't worry about it." Dib's lips quirked up in a slight smile, hoping to come off as comforting.

"Yeah, Dib's done plenty of embarrassing things anyway." Gaz smirked, elbowing you gently in the side.

"Hey!"

"Besides, I still think you're cool." Gaz's words were quiet, and her face was dusted in pink, though you were unable to tell due to the darkness of the room.

"Thanks, Gazzie."

As if by freak accident, something in the kitchen fell from the counter, making a loud noise that echoed through the house as it collided with the floor. You just about jumped out of your skin, yelping as you did so.

Your face in your hands to hide your cringing, your words came out muffled. "Do you mind if we sleep out here for tonight? All of us?"

"Sure." The Membrane kids spoke together, shuffling off to grab blankets and pillows while you sat on the couch, cursing yourself for your irrational fears. You knew it was just a movie, but you were still terrified regardless. They came back quickly, throwing their stuff down on the floor.

"I brought you a pillow and a blanket." Gaz pushed a fluffy blanket and a pillow over to you. Opening your mouth to give your thanks, you were stopped by Dib.

"But I brought you that too." The two glared at each other, fists and teeth clenched, seemingly caught in some deadlock that you had been left out of.

"She doesn't want your gross blanket, Dib! If it came from your room, it's definitely disgusting!" Gaz shoved her brother, Dib stumbling backwards a few steps. His eyes narrowed, he shoved her back, harder. She fell into the couch, all but growling at him.

"Guys! I'll just use both!" You waved your hands frantically, barring them from each other with your arms. "Thank you, both of you." Your words seemed to deescalate the situation for the meantime, though even you could still feel the electric tension that was in the room. You knew this was much more than typical sibling rivalry, and were worried that you would get caught in the middle. What you didn't know is that you were already caught in the web, that you had been from the moment you stepped foot inside the Membrane household. "Is something going on that I should be aware of?" You asked as you laid out your blankets and pillows, sitting down on your spot on the floor.

"It's nothing!" The siblings blurted at the same time, prepping their sleep space as well. Shaking your head in bewilderment, you laid down, the pair following suit, one on either side of you. You let your eyes flutter closed, feeling much safer with Dib and Gaz by your side.

With one final staredown with Gaz, Dib scooted as close to you as he dared. What he wanted most was to reach out and hold your hand, but was too afraid to do so. Gaz was much more bold, cuddling right up to you and intertwining her fingers with yours. You peeled an eye open and looked to her, but didn't pull away. Dib muttered a curse under his breath, screwing his eyes shut and keeping his frustrations with his sister to himself.

You had all drifted into a heavy sleep rather quickly, Gaz and Dib's expressions softening from irritated to peaceful. At about two thirty in the morning, Professor Membrane had come back from the lab, much, much later than he had intended, dead tired. He almost stumbled over the three teenagers deep in slumber on the living room floor. That snapped him to his senses, and his normally serious expression ebbed away to one that was more loving at the sight.

You were wedged in the middle, Gaz tucked cutely into your side, hand still in yours. Dib had drifted closer to you in his sleep, his head on your chest, legs tangled in your own, hand laid across you protectively.

Professor Membrane chuckled to himself quietly, snapping a quick picture with his phone before he retreated to his own room to get as many hours of sleep as his schedule would allow.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #dib membrane #gaz membrane #dib x reader #gaz x reader #invader zim oneshot #invader zim one shot #request

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buckstaposition · 4 years

Text

I cling to your lips like gloss (1)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

now also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (if u wanna come say hello on main)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death

words: 5521

Author’s note: dude this chapter fought me every step of the way but it’s here now so suck it, muses or whatever

---

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries (thank you sweeties whom I will hold forever in my heart)

(message me if you want to be added to the list)

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

'Liliana' the file said. I was tucked away in the locked bottom drawer of his old desk, the one he hadn't even had time to clear out when they'd sent him away. To be fair, Javier had only known to look because Murphy had called him to tell him about this informant. It sounded too good to be true. An informant coming to them of their own accord, ready to spill valuable inside secrets of the Calí cartel, and they didn't even want payment? One would be forgiven, in their line of work, to smell a trap. But Murphy had vouched for this one, and he trusted Murphy, knew that his partner (former partner) did his homework with due diligence. That, and the first batch of intel Murphy had brought back from their first few meetings had already proven invaluable.

There was apparently only one hiccup, and it was that the informant refused to talk to any agents other than him or Murphy. It had even led to Steve having to postpone his return to the States for almost two months, until it was clear that Javier would return to Colombia. Fair enough, he'd need to make up his own mind about them anyway. He collected the file and tucked it into the box that held all the stuff he'd cleared out of the desk, since he would now officially be moving a an office of his own.

Upon arriving in said office, he kicked the door closed and sat, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the file. As thin as it was, it still took him almost an hour to work through it, though half of the time was spent deciphering Murphy's chicken scratch mess of annotations. The rest was spent on making his own. After checking the time, Javier fetched himself a cup of the same old tar brew that passed for coffee here, lit another cigarette, and dialled Steve's new office number in Miami.

"Murphy."

"Alright, I've read the file." Javier started without preamble. Perhaps that was a bit short. He grimaced, then added, "About the informant. Liliana."

"Yeah, I figured." Steve exhaled probably puffing away at his own nicotine habit. Javier meant to quit, but kept pushing it off. The intent was all there was to it, at this stage. "So what're you calling me for, big boss?"

Javier elected to ignore the taunt, knowing it was friendly.

"You've met her. Is she legit?"

"Why, you smelling a trap?"

Pathological mistrust was a feature one acquired while on this job. Those who didn't ended up dead. Those who did would still end up dead, just later and more jaded. Either way you'd get a lot of other people killed on the way. "Just making sure."

They spent the next half hour and a bit going over the file together, comparing notes, catching up, thinking aloud - all of which were much easier to do when they had each other to bounce off of. It felt good, almost like old times. Javier went through close to a third of his pack of cigarettes, the air growing heavy in the windowless room. Just as well that it was almost time to wrap this up. A look at his watch told him that it was getting late in the day, and that Steve would want to get home to his family. All Javier could hope for at this point was avoiding resident CIA-asshole Bill Stechner on his way out, at least on this day.

"You won't be able to pull your usual shit with this one." Steve remarked, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Javier bristled, even though he knew the things people said about him, both behind his back and to his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Knowing didn't mean it didn't, occasionally, sting, but he'd given up on trying to influence other people's minds long ago. A reputation once acquired was not easily shed, not that he'd made much of an effort to.

"It means that you shouldn't. Pull your usual crap with this one. For one I hardly think it'll be necessary."

"That would be new." Javier snorted. He could hear Steve's eyeroll through the phone.

"Still the same asshole-" Steve snarked. "I'm just saying be nice for once, especially since that woman's intel is the only reason you still have a job. She's a nice lady, so with a bit of luck some of that might even rub off on you."

"And I'm the asshole..."

"So everyone keeps saying."

"Fuck you, Steve."

"Go fuck yourself, Javi." Steve's chuckle told him it was all in good humor. "And don't fuck this informant."

"Yeah, yeah," Javier waved it off. The woman was an accountant, for fuck's sake. Note exactly his usual type. Or the type he usually attracted.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

They were meeting at one of the small restaurants lining the edge of Parque Sabaneta in Medellín. Over the phone her voice had sounded... hesitant, above all else. Tinny, too, but he blamed the connection for that. And he'd brought her a satellite phone for future contacts; her driving out to remote phone cells and him waiting for calls after hours in his office just didn't cut it.

There hadn't been a picture in the file, but Steve's description had been quite accurate and Javier was able to pick her out at the table she'd chosen before making himself known. Dark hair and darker eyes behind large, slightly old-fashioned glasses. She was almost tall and hid her figure underneath loose-fitted clothing; today a flowy blouse and high-waisted dress pants, and a bulky cardigan against the spring chill that lingered even into the late morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun that reminded him of his fifth grade math teacher, Ms Jenkins. Javier approached the table.

"Diana Rivas?" She froze for a split-second before relaxing again, returning his greeting softly. In real life her voice was deeper than he would have anticipated, raspier too, but not unpleasant - the kind of voice one would expect first thing in the morning, just after waking up.

"I do hope your drive was not too tiring, Agent Peña." she said as he sat. He grimaced slightly. The drive had been long, above all else. Not his first choice of how to spend a Friday morning. Well, he'd endured worse for this job. But next time he'd definitely travel by plane.

"Do they serve decent coffee here?" Javier scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and settled, resuming his assessment. She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze, but squared her shoulders after a moment, meeting his gaze head-on and motioning a waiter over with a flick of her delicate wrist.

"Of course they do, this is Medellín!" She sounded mildly offended, then ignored him in favor of telling the waiter their order. Javier took the time to observe her further.

No make-up, no jewellery, save for a simple, functional watch and a small silver locket on a long, thin chain. No wedding band either, but the paleness and indentation around her ring finger still indicated that she'd worn one in the recent past. Her features were soft and feminine, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, all making her look younger than she purportedly was. His gaze caught on her defined cupid's bow just a second too long. Her complexion seemed far too sunkissed for someone who spent most of their time indoors, in air-conditioned office spaces. In conclusion, undeniably lovely to anyone with eyes who cared to look, but obviously taking great pains to discourage closer scrutiny, to look as mousy and plain as possible. It worked, to a degree.

It occurred to Javier that maybe he should actually talk to her, since that's what he'd come here for.

"Do you always begin your interrogations with the silent treatment? I can see how that might be effective." She beat him to it, just before the coffee cups were set on the table in front of them.

"This isn't an interrogation." he groused, taking a tentative sip of the coffee. The scent of it alone was enough to wake the dead; it was heavenly. He'd have to see if he could weasel some halfway decent coffee out of his budget at the office.

"Regardless, I only have until noon today. We can meet again tomorrow; I can make myself available all afternoon for you, Agent Peña."

Javier huffed out a breath before taking another sip. "Why can you suddenly do Medellín anyway? You had Murphy travel across half the country to meet you."

She made a face at that, something between annoyed and apologetic. "My aunt, she... she's sick and been getting worse. I make the time to come down here every other weekend now to help her."

"And your employers are alright with that?" He hadn't exactly pegged the Calí cartel for employers of the year. Or to pioneer part-time models so their employees could care for sick relatives.

"As long as the work gets done, yes. It means I work ten to eleven hour days Monday to Thursday, but I am the only one left in this family..." She sniffled a little and swept the tips of her fingers under the plastic rim of her glasses, wiping at her eyes. Javier looked away, pretending it was to give her privacy. He imagined this unusually forthright woman walking up to Pacho Herrera to ask for reduced work hours so she could care for her aunt- That could really have gone either way, but somehow he thought that was probably not how it happened, or whom she'd asked. He just couldn't picture it. Maybe one of the brothers; they liked to style themselves as charitable family men, to a degree.

"Anyway, Medellín's closer for you, and we're less likely to be found out here. They like to keep security pretty tight in Calí. My friend Angelika calls it the Calí Stasi, and she's from the former East Germany, so she'd know."

He hummed in acknowledgement, his coffee almost gone and him almost feeling like a living human being again. He flagged the waiter down for another.

"In any case, I am glad that we can keep this to Spanish now. My English is not very ...confident." She prattled on, sipping from her own cup. Murphy had told him that she'd brought a dictionary to their first meeting, and apparently, with his former partner's dismal language skills, they'd actually needed it.

"I'm sure your English is better than Murphy's Spanish." Steve had told him as much, but then again, Steve's Spanish was shit, so it really wasn't saying much. There was something else niggling at the back of his mind.

"Why me?"

Her glasses slid down her nose half an inch or so in surprise at his -admittedly abrupt- question. "I'm sorry?"

"Murphy said you wanted to speak to me specifically when you first called. Why?"

She hesitated a moment, squirmed a little and averted her eyes, then pushed her glasses back up her nose before answering, softer than before. "Gabriela said you could be trusted."

"...Gabriela?" He said sharply, neck flushing at the thought of the beautiful redhead.

She shrunk in on herself, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Perhaps his voice had come out a little bit harsher than intended. He hadn't even thought that she'd actually tell him her real name. He'd just been a client after all.

"Yes," Miss Rivas breathed out, her voice so soft now that he had to lean halfway across the table to even catch it. "She's my best friend. We've been inseparable since the firts day of school. We tell each other everything. She told me she knew a DEA agent; that's why I told my cousin to go to her when she ran into trouble with Pablo Escobar-"

"Your cousin???" He almost roared. It came out as more of a whisper-yell, but she still flinched, eyes going wide behind the lenses.

"Yes, my cousin," she said carefully, "Maritza Rincón."

"Maritza–" he patted his pocket for a smoke and swore under his breath when he remembered how he'd left them in the car with the intention of advancing his 'quit smoking'-idea beyond idle talk. "What is this, a fucking trap? Very elaborate setup just to yell at me, missy. Unless you've got some buddies of yours here to–"

"What- what are you *talking* about? I don't blame you for Maritza's death!" By now people were staring. Not a lot of them, since it wasn't really the time yet for the midday crowd and too late for the morning rush, but the few pensioners and whatnot were definitely sensing the tension at their table. Javier gave up on his cigarette search and took a deliberate breath, willing himself to calm down.

"Maritza is dead?" He hadn't known that. He wasn't sure how he would have learned of it, but it still shocked him regardless. He looked over to see her fidget with her locket, lips pressed tight and trembling. Shit. Another informant on his conscience, fucking great.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he started, his voice catching. He bought himself time with his now lukewarm coffee, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I-"

"It's alright." She whispered, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wasn't. She swept her glasses off with trembling fingers and pressed beneath her eyes, as if to restrain the tears that pooled in her lashes.

"I'm sorry." Javier said again, insistent, soft, sincere. "What happened?"

"We- I don't know. She called me to say she was in trouble with Escobar, and I helped her set up the meeting with Gabi."

"With me." He remembered that evening, that young girl sitting in Gabriela's apartment, ready to be sprung on him. Part of him had resented it; Gabriela had been someone he'd sought out to get away from the damn narcos and their dealings. Miss Rivas nodded.

"Yes. It was that idiot Jhon. He was one of the neighborhood kids. Growing up he'd always had a crush on her..." She talked a lot, he found. It should irritate him more, the way she'd throw in seemingly irrelevant asides without explaining further. Instead he only found himself worrying that someone so pathologically honest could not possibly keep the Gentlemen of Calí off her tracks, at least not if she kept spilling her life story so eagerly.

" ...and then she hid out on her uncle's farm again, where my auntie - her mom - grew up and went back to after my uncle - that's Maritza's dad - died of a heart attack. Auntie had been out for the day and when she came back- "

He can't bear to listen to it, but forces himself to anyway. In the sea of his regrets, what's one more? Besides, there's nothing else he can do for the girl now; the least he can do is witness how he failed her.

For all her unassuming bluntness, Diana Rivas is not one to hold back, even on unsavoury details. At least he doesn't get the sense that she does it to torment when she tells him how they found Maritza's lifeless body with her young daughter next to her.

By the end of that sorry tale, he has his head in his hands, Miss Rivas is still just this side of openly weeping, and all the other patrons have demonstratively averted their attention so as not to impose on what must, on the outside, look like an urgent case for a damned good couples' counselor.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot." And why in the hell is she apologizing?

"No shit." And yeah, he has to digest this before he can even think of making any attempt at non-destructive human interaction. "You couldn't tell Murphy any of this?"

She gave him a look.

"Yeah, alright. Sorry." More than just a language barrier, got it.

"I didn't come here today with the intention to relive this, you know?" She said archly. He supposed she had all the right to be upset. And he'd never had a meeting with an informant turn this harrowing, which was really saying something.

"I'm sorry." He said again, putting the weight of sincerity behind the words. Her hands were in the table now, fidgeting again as she sat slightly hunched over, staring into her coffee cup.

"Unless your government has a time machine to spare, I would prefer not talking about it again. At least not more than necessary." She replaced her glasses and checked her watch. "1 pm tomorrow?"

Javier nodded dumbly, already plucking a few bills out of his wallet to pay for the coffee. "Yeah, 1 pm is okay. Where?"

"Meet me at the church. Santa Ana. You know it?" He didn't particularly, as in he didn't know its name before now, but he could see the building's tall white facade from where they were sitting.

"Iglesia de Santa Ana, 1 pm tomorrow." Javier confirmed, rising as she did. The stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to conclude this meeting, until she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took her smaller, slender hand in his, squeezing it wordlessly.

"Until tomorrow, Agent Peña." She said, managing a sad little smile. "I hope you'll get some rest. You look like shit."

Javier bit down every one of the snarky replies that sprung to mind, not least because he knew it was true. His bags had bags and he itched for a smoke.

And to think, this was Murphy's 'nice lady'.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that at the church meant inside the church. Not until a very miffed face peered out between the heavy doors, giving him a look as he stood there smoking.

"It's barely been five minutes!" Javier defended himself, stubbing out the cigarette beneath his heel.

"It's 1:07pm." She informed him matter-of-factly, pushing the glasses back up her nose pointedly as she made to turn back inside. Javier caught the door, crowding perhaps a bit too close, but the damned thing was heavy.

"Sorry." He said simply, seeing no point in making a scene out of it. She had to crane her neck just the slightest bit to meet his gaze.

"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute." And with that she stalked off. Javi watched her sweep down the aisle, her hair and skirt fluttering behind her. She wore her hair loose today, the ends of it curling around her shoulders, and a simple off-white shirt dress that reached down to mid-calf. He let his eyes trail after her, leaning his weight more fully against the heavy wood of the door to lever it open. She walked around two thirds of the way down the pews before stopping by a... baby carriage?

She bent over it before carefully wheeling it around and starting back towards the door. Javier racked his tired brain. The file hadn't said anything about a kid. Married five years but no children. That didn't seem like the kind of thing one would easily miss, and he knew Murphy to be thorough in his inquiries.

"Who's this then?" He peered inside the carriage -more of a buggy really now that he got a closer look- and barely caught a glance of a dozing toddler with soft brown curls, while hoisting the door open wider to let her pass more easily. "Didn't know you had a kid."

"I don't." The buggy caught on the threshold and jolted, and a displeased cry came from inside it, making her curse under her breath. "This is Maritza's daughter, Salome. I've got it! Just- the door, just get the door!"

The last part of that came out high and sharp, much like the crack of a whip, and in direct response to Javier's attempt to swoop in and help heave the buggy over the worn-down threshold. He jolted back on instinct, grunting when the door swung squarely into his spine. Who the hell was responsible for all these old-ass church doors being solid enough to squash an actual living human between them?

After some fumbling they managed to make it out with most of their dignity still intact. Javier bent down and quickly shoved the bag he'd brought into the wire basket underneath the buggy's seat, next to her purse.

"Where to?" He asked, straightening up again. Miss Rivas still looked cross, her lips pressed together.

"Follow along. There are some secluded benches a little walk away." And off she was, leavin him to catch up.

"If your intention is to disguise this meeting as just another family enjoying the sun I suggest you slow down a little." Javier hissed under his breath. He'd actually had to jog a bit to keep up with her steamroller pace. She looked even more annoyed and declined to grace him with an answer, but slowed with a sigh that told him that this was indeed her intention. It was a smart enough plan, he wouldn't dispute that.

At least the kid seemed to have calmed from her little jostle-startle, seeing as she was now quietly babbling away as if narrating the sights. Javier tried to loosen his tense shoulders and to look like he was enjoying himself as they fell into step ambling along the walkways between the lush greenery.

"How old is she?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some small talk would ease the woman's sullen mood.

"Almost two and a half." Or not. Well, he tried. Javier wasn't exactly an expert with kids and none of his previous informants had ever shown up with theirs. Not that that would have been appropriate considering the circumstances. They walked for about a quarter of an hour, which Javier spent agonizing about how to smooth over the sudden mood change Miss Rivas was displaying compared to the day before. By the time they'd made it to their destination he was no closer to that goal.

She sat with a weary sigh, shaking out her flowy skirt before sitting and rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It was much warmer today than when they'd met previously, only in part due to the later hour. Stiffly, Javier sat down next to her at a distance that instantly belied their 'family outing' cover. She turned to him after checking on the baby, peeling back the sunshade of the buggy to allow her to look around.

"You can smoke if you want to." Miss Rivas said offhandedly, her tone forcedly polite. Javier cleared his throat.

"I'm actually trying to quit."

Her lips quirked into a pleasant curve. "And how's that going?"

Javier sighed. "I'm thinking I might have chosen the wrong time."

"Or the wrong job."

The laugh that bursts forth from him is short, but not altogether hollow. "Yeah, or that."

"Very well, then you may not smoke even though you might want to."

Javier smiled. Couldn't help it, really. He had been worried that he'd somehow managed to offend her during their last meeting. He said as much, and she shook her head with a look of remorse.

"No, it's not your fault. It's just..." She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, revealing the dark rings that had previously been hidden beneath the plastic rim. "Yesterday dredged up some things, and I didn't sleep well as a consequence. That always makes me snippy. And to top things of, this one," she leaned over to unbuckle the child and heave her into her lap, "was being fussy all morning, which didn't help. Sorry for being so short with you earlier."

"In this job, people usually shoot at me. It's alright, really. You're alright." Truth be told, he was glad she pulled herself out of this funk. Maybe she was as nice as Murphy claimed after all. The kid looked at him with large, round, strangely sage eyes. I got your mommy killed. I got your mommy killed and you had to watch. If he had gotten her that visa- The thought made him gulp, made him dizzy and nauseous and if there was anything to be glad for in this situation it was that he was already sitting down. Miss Rivas replaced her glasses and looked at him with furrowed brows. He felt like he was being read.

"I already told you that I don't blame you for Maritza." Javier tried his damnedest not to squirm underneath that discerning stare. Screw read, he felt like he was being flayed open. "Obviously you still blame yourself."

"Wouldn't you?" He shot back, defensive. She didn't answer for a moment, gently rocking the kid who had grabbed a hold of her locket and started to play with it.

"I have enough regrets of my own, Agent Peña." Part of him wants to scoff, even just to dispel the heavy moment, but the severity in her tone nips that impulse in the bud. Instead, he clears his throat and gestures to the buggy where he stored his bag earlier.

"I brought you something."

Her features soften into not quite a smile, but something close enough. "What a coincidence, so have I."

And then she hands him the toddler, who lets out a displeased cry at having her toy wrenched from her chubby hands in so unceremonious a manner, and Javier freezes as her squirmy weight is settled in his lap, only his hand shooting out to steady her on instinct. Up close her big brown eyes are even more enormous.

"Um, hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Salome. I'm Javier." He says awkwardly and is met with a pout. This is patently terrible and reminds him of the few times he'd been handed baby Olivia. She'd started crying instantly nine times out of ten. He hopes against hope that today will be a deviation from that norm. Salome considers him a long moment, blinking owlishly and making that certain kind of skeptical face that little kids so often do. He's had less tense moments in interrogations. He might be sweating in a way that has little to do with the midday heat.

And then Salome blows him a raspberry and dives for his wrist to investigate the shininess of his watch. And when he can breathe again he allows himself a smile. Of relief, mostly. In stark contrast to the smile Miss Rivas wears as she regeards them both, which is pure mischief with a dash of smugness.

"Well look at that. You passed muster, Agent Peña." Miss Rivas set both their bags down in the space between them, then leaned over to press a quick kiss to little Salome's soft curls. And Javier has been much closer to many women than this; his heart shouldn't lurch at the sudden proximity, the waft of her perfume or the light brush of her soft hair over his bare forearm.

"Ladies first." Javier gestured at the bags between them. She smiled and rummaged through hers, producing two thick stacks of folded papers, either parcel secured with a rubber band.

"Trade you?" she motioned at the girl, who was now intently examining the fingers of his right hand. Reluctantly, he let Miss Rivas pluck the small child from his lap and stand her next to the bench. Salome frowned adorably for a moment at having been interrupted in pulling his pinky finger off, then realized she was free to roam around and brightened instantly, hitting the bench a few times with chubby palms and babbling.

"Yes, of course I have your toy, sweetie." Miss Rivas said earnestly, presenting a brightly colored ball. Salome grabbed for it with a squeal, her momentum propelling her straight onto her backside. Miss Rivas turned back to Javier with that soft, fond expression still on her face and handed him one of the parcels.

"Do... did you want to go over this? While I'm here to explain things?"

"That complex, huh?"

"Well, it's a lot to do with creative book-keeping and tax law loopholes. It's more about how they structure their business to launder their incomes than anything else, but it'll still be helpful in building a case, no?"

It is, which is the whole reason he's been sent back here apparently. And while it's nothing the analysts back at the office can't handle (probably), he still likes being in the loop. And also maybe because he enjoys the sound of her voice. In any case he peels off the rubber band and unfolds the stack of papers, keeping a careful hand around it to ensure that nothing blows away in the spring breeze. Miss Rivas pulled out a pencil from her purse and shuffled closer. Close enough that he can smell her perfume again. - - - Over the following hour and a half Javier realized several important things:

One. Diana Rivas is likely one of the cleverest people he has ever met. By page eight his head is swimming with numbers, but her even explanations make even tiered corporate tax rebate systems sound fascinating. Even in his line of work, he'd never truly considered accounting to be the stuff of suspense, but she makes it sound like a thriller that even the brightest heads in Hollywood would have trouble coming up with.

Two. Having to do anything while keeping an eye in a rambunctious small child who is still learning to walk is a uniquely stressful experience. Little Salome is bouncing around the small patch of grass in front of the bench much like her ball, endowed with seemingly endless reservoirs of energy. She crashes into his knee a few times while chasing her ball or deciding that playing hide and seek underneath the bench is a better use of her time, and it puts him on edge that he feels responsible at all.

Three. The Rodríguez brothers make more than enough money from their few legitimate businesses to never have to worry themselves financially. Not that this had been in question, technically, but to see the numbers in black and white is still galling, even if he's not nearly as incensed about it as Miss Rivas seems to be. And while Javier is far from a religious man, he does consider greed that is levered with blood to be at least distateful.

Four. It's not her perfume he smelled earlier, but her shampoo, bright and fruity, with high notes of citrus.

Five. As long as this is all they have and all she can get, the DEA cannot make a move against the Calí cartel. His orders had been very clear on that. Nail them down beyond escape and make absolutely sure you get them into custody, in that order. It means that whatever Miss Rivas can reveal about the inner financial working of the cartel is valuable, but on its own won't be enough. As always in this job it's sorting through a haystack with a rake in search of needlepoints.

Which brings him to the next thing he needs to ask her. Needs to ask her to do for him, and the operation, to be specific, and he can already tell she'll say yes eagerly. Eager informants should be a blessing, but their eagerness seems to directly correlate with their likelihood of getting killed, or close enough.

"This is for you." He says instead, handing her the satellite phone. There's directions that go with it, but he takes the time to walk her through it nonetheless. Also his numbers, both office and home, just in case. He watched as she carefully tucked everything into her purse.

It's later in the afternoon now - past three - and Salome comes toddling over, handing Javier her ball and sitting down on the grassy ground with a world-weary sigh.

"Okay, time for your nap I think, young lady." Miss Rivas plucked the child from the ground and stood to deposit her back in the buggy, then holding out her hand to him expectantly. He hands the ball over after a split-second of dumbstruck hesitation.

"Well, goodbye then, Agent Peña."

He stood. Offered her his hand to shake, which she took. "I'll call you during the week. What time is good for you?"

"Any time between seven and ten. I'll probably be in Medellín again in a month. I'll let you know if I have more intel by then." He nodded, finally releasing her hand after realizing he still had her fingers clasped in his. She smiled and turned to leave, wheeling the buggy around from its resting position and onto the footpath. "Oh, and Agent Peña?" She turned halfway, throwing the words over her shoulder with a smirk. "Gabriela won't be available tonight, just so you know. We're meeting for dinner and general catching up."

His neck flushed hotly, both despite and because he'd had no intention of visiting her.

"Thanks," he said stiffly, "Give her my best."

"Will do!"

Shaking his head, Javier watched her retreat until she disappeared from view behind a bend in the path.

-------------------------------------------------------

Further author’s note bc apparently I have more to say:

I’m gonna play a bit fast and loose with the timeline, because the show makes it look like Javi was sent back pretty much immediately and it only took those ~6 months to take down the cartel bosses, but in reality Escobar died in December of 1993 and the Calí godfathers weren’t arrested until summer of ‘95, so I’m sending Javi back to Colombia in the first half of ‘94 (April to be specific), meaning the time frame for this story is about a year

also I thought Maritza’s daughter in the series was still a baby, but upon rewatch it is actually stated in s2 ep4 that she’s two, and now I had to rewrite those parts. As to why she doesn’t speak, that’s actually something that will come up later and has nothing to do with my bad memory of the series. though tbh I probably assumed that because Olivia was a baby for like three years. (also according to the timeline I determined Maritza’s daugher would actually be between three and four at this point, but I’m going to disregard that. I’ve already had to age her up once and for the purposes of this story I need her to be still this little)

Chapter 2

#narcos (tv)#javier pena x ofc #series #I cling to your lips like gloss (series)#multipart #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfic #my writing #part 1 #like gloss tag

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malethirsty · 4 years

Text

Male Crow Eater - Chibs Telford

Summary: Fucking powerful men has taken you far in SAMCRO, but it takes a Scotsman to show you life as a Crow Eater doesn’t have to be sour and sweaty, it can be sweet and sugary as well.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Daddy Kink

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1201782075163996160?s=21

You had settled into your position of Crow Eater very well, having fucked SAMCRO’s President, his best friend & his Sergent At Arms also following up, now all that was left was the Vice President. As luck would have it, you had a thing for accents, so the Scotsman made you very hot under the collar, so when he set you in a motel area for an evening, excitement practically overwhelmed you, especially when you were told you’d be free of charge for the night “How on Earth did he get that for me?” You asked out loud in the clubhouse as Chibs got ready at home “Figure it as your payment for our mattinee for SAMCRO Cinema.” Tig said, which caused the room to burst out laughing, it seemed so chaotic what had been going down with you and SAMCRO but sex with Jax, Opie, Tig & Clay had flowed so perfectly, you hoped you had the same connection with Chibs.

You readied yourself as well, taking your iPhone and speakers along with you, planning a rather sensual night in at first. You made sure to text the group when you left so that Chibs could have a few extra minutes to brush up, it wasn’t that often he donned fancy hair stuff and dressed up. After travelling for a while, you came across Charming Motel, and parking, made your way up to reception “Hello I’m Y/N, I believe Mr. Telford checked me in for a room with him.” The lady at the desk poured over her books “Room #9 is the one, you’re in until Monday morning.” She said crisply, holding out one key, the other reserved for Chibs “Thank you very much.” You responded, taking it and making your way down the walkway, finding Room #9 and letting yourself in. It was a neutral sort of room, bed tucked in one corner, a luggage area, a cooking area and a bathroom tucked round the side. You unpacked, setting the iPhone audio up on the bedside table, you sat on the bed dressed up in a Dressing Gown and waited for your Leather Clad Biker to swoop in.

Less than half an hour trailed by when you heard the door open, you turned your head to see Chibs walking through it, leather kutte and all “Hey darlin’” he greeted you “Well hello Chibs, I thought you were doing fancy dress tonight?” He shrugged “Couldn’t work out how the fucking suit went, so I tossed it in the bag.” he gestured to his luggage which he parked with yours “Maybe you could help me get it on so we can go out for the evening or something.” You nodded “That should be fine. Speaking of which, are you sure about paying for everything I’m buying? Isn’t that gonna cause a dip in the club?” Chibs sat across from you “Not at all sweet thing, we’re happy to spend it on you, you’ve taken such good care of us, and in turn, we look out for you, make love to you, make you cum for us, and taking our load all you have to do to make us happy, make me happy.” He finished the last part of his declaration with a lustful tone in his voice, he must have been preparing himself weeks on end for this.

“Well then, I have one request.” You said, steadying yourself up, Chibs cocked his head “Remember the whole Erotica era Madonna put out?” “Aye” Chibs acknoledged “I stumbled across it this week and thought Erotica would be good to put on while we do foreplay.” “Not the entire fucking album, I won’t do foreplay for over a fucking hour, my cock will fucking explode!” Hearing Chibs swear in his delectable accent was hot as you began to laugh “No Chibs, only the title track, it’s five minutes at best and gives you time to warm me up, stoke the beast before you unleash yourself onto me.” “Goddamn, you want me to fuck you like an animal eh?” “I don’t want you to do anything, I only want you to cum in me, anyway you like.” You sent back to him “Fucking hell I’m rock solid, Y/N get that damn song on before I tear your gown off and go to town on ye.” Grinning, you activated your phone, quickly connecting the speakers whilst seeking out the song at the same time, as much as you wanted to tempt Chibs, you also wanted him deep inside you. Finding it quickly, you made sure everything was on and connected, you switched on the song and as the synth began you crossed back over to the bed and spread yourself down, releasing the robe and letting it fall beneath you “Claim me Fillip, I’m yours.” Was all you had to say for the biker to make his way over to you, marvelling at your form as he took your lips into a deep kiss. Whisky was the one defining taste you experiences as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, entangling you both together, hands trailing over your sides, stimulating you, he started to make his way down, his beard trailing over you roughly.

He moved to your neck, leaving nips and bites along with his kisses “Gonna leave hickeys on ye, so everyone can see. Fuck Y/N, you are intoxicating!” Once he was done there, he moved to your nipples, sinking his teeth into one & stimulating the other with his right hand, causing moans to fall from your mouth as Chibs had his way “Oh f-fuck Chibs, Yes! Keep going!” He swapped position, attending to your right nipple with his teeth, your left with his hand, causing your head to fall back, breathless as Chibs continued his trip down. He soon reached your cock and balls “Spread your legs.” He commanded and you obeyed, streching them over Chibs head, before gripping them around his head and flipping over so you were now on top, Chibs moved swiftly up the bed so you both locked eyes “If you’re going to finger me, at least let me give you something in return.” You told him as you descended upon his cock, a moan falling from Chibs mouth “That’s it Y/N, suck my cock deep, wrap your lips round it, slobber all around it, get it wet.” Like a good Crow Eater, you obeyed the instructions, your ass sticking out in Chibs face “Beautiful arse.” He growled before slapping it, causing you to moan round his cock “Oh that’s nice, so good. Keep doing that Y/N. Oh Fuck yeah baby boy, worship daddy” He moaned out as he spat into his hand, spreading it to his fingers, slowly working one in. The vibrations that went through his cock at your moaning reaction was enough to make him buck desperately, he worked a second finger in and began to stretch you “Fuck your walls are tight round my fingers, you’re gonna love it when I shove my cock into ye, you’ll clench around it, plead for more and I’ll give it, all I can give and more, anything to make you cry out as I fuck you so damn hard.” You pulled off his cock, drawing in a massive breath before you descended to suck his balls, making Chibs groan even louder “Fuck, that’s fuckin fantastic! My ol lady never did that for me, Oh! Oh God, I need more Y/N, keep going!” Chibs head fell back as he got a better view as he worked your ass open, moving his fingers around desperately attempting to find your prostate, as you moved onto his other ball. Eventually your hole clenched around Chibs’s fingers as you let out a moan “I’ve found it now, and if that’s how you react to my fingers, then when I hit you with my dick, you’ll be begging for more, in fact we may never leave this room again.” Chibs’s dirty intent made you blush as the song finally finished “At fucking last.” He growled pulling his fingers from you and dragged you to where he was “Now it’s my turn.” He growled, pure lustful passion in his eyes as he spread your legs wide and thrusted his cock deep into your ass your cries mingling with Chibs gasp as your walls tightened around his sensitive cock “Oh this is gonna be good” he said, a gleam in his eyes.

He began to buck into you, setting a rough yet smooth pace. You gripped your hands in his hair as you kissed passionately, eventually drawing your mouth away to lick at his moustache and up his cheek “Fuck, you’re so hot Y/N.” “There’s more where that came from” you told him as you now started to lick his Glasgow Smile scars aligned on the side of his mouth, he rewarded you with an extra sharp pound, sending ripples of ecstasy through you “Oh Chibs! More, Fuck me sir! Fuck me so damn hard!” You cried out, Chibs doing exactly as you asked “Yeah you like daddy fucking you don’t you slut?, love your daddy all horny and dicking you down like you deserve after a long day?” “Yes.” You gasped out, Chibs’s piston hips robbing you of breath “Louder” he growled, slamming in balls deep that the sound of Chibs’s balls slapping against your ass reverberated around the room “YES! FUCK ME CHIBS, FUCK ME SO FUCKING HARD!” Chibs laughed down at you and increased his pace his groans and moans mixing with yours to create quite an erotic sound.

Suddenly he again twisted you around so now you were on top of him “Ride me” he growled out, his sexy accent only adding to the bubbling lustful tension. “Ride me so fucking hard so that when you fuck all the other bikers, you’ll remember how big my cock was in your arse.” Your intent perfectly clear, you resumed Chibs’s previous pace, being stretched out ever further as Chibs’s cock sunk deeper, hitting your prostate now with sharper precision. All that arose from you for a good solid while were wanton moans as Chibs assisted you in riding him, starting up at you with such desire and wonder in his eyes “Oh fuck Y/N, you’re taking it so damn well! You love how my dick fucks your arse?” “Yes Fillip, your cock is perfect, fucking amazing!” “F-Fuck. Go faster, you deserve this dick fucking you so hard.” He growled out in response to your praises and once again, you obeyed without question, the headboard now slamming into the wall as Chibs took you deep.

He took your head in his hands and licked over where you had mapped out his scars. “Now you have a Glasgow Smile as well Y/N, we’re bound by my scar.” You grinned at Chibs “I think I can map out where you’ve been pierced other than your face.” As you trailed down Chibs looked confused “What the hell do you-Oh fuck!” Chibs’s question was stopped with a breathy groan as you licked all over his chest tattoo of a money note, while your hands trailed up and down his arm tatts “Fuck yeah! You like my tattoos Y/N?” “Yes Chibs, I love how dark they are, like I’m safe whenever I’m with you.” “Damn right you are, if anyone ever tried to hurt ya, I’d kill em in cold blood, then I’d fuck ya, with their blood all over us, and you’d moan and cry like a whimpering whore, cause thats how you are in bed, so needy for my cock to fuck you so damn good. You want it, ya got it.”

The end was fast approaching for the both of you, you were both able to tell from the fact his toes were curling and you were shaking “You gonna cum Y/N?” You nodded “Aye, I’m in the same boat with ya.” He grabbed your cock & began to stroke it, causing you to moan even louder “Shoot your load all over me Y/N, do it!” With one final moan of satisfaction, you shot all over Chibs “Fuck, you’re eager as shite.” He groaned out before flipping you over again “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in ya, shoot my load in ya tight fucking arse, and you’re gonna fucking love it!” “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You returned, causing Chibs to growl out “Good. Fuck Y/N, this is the best sex I’ve ever had, TAKE MY CUM!” He bellowed the last part as he shot deep into your ass, with a string of cursewords falling from his mouth as he collapsed onto the bed.

You looked over at Chibs, grinning as you did so, “I don’t think we’re leaving the room this weekend” Chibs grinned back, responding in a lustful tone “No Darlin, I don’t think we will”

#Chibs Telford #Male Reader #Chibs Telford x Male Reader #Chibs Telford Smut #Sons Of Anarchy #Sons Of Anarchy Smut #Male Crow Eater

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years

Text

Jughead//...Baby One More Time

Request: Would I be able to request a reader/jughead smut where you both find out the other is sleeping in the school, maybe you happen upon each other in the showers?

Warning: Smut! ooooo

After school most people run out the doors as fast as they can. Once the bell goes, they leave as quickly as possible, a trail of dust behind them as they all race to get home.

Not me however. Whilst everyone was running and pushing past me, trying to be the first ones out the door, I’m slowly wandering the halls, waiting for it to quiet down so I can hide in the old supply closet in peace. Not ideal, no. But for now it’s all I have. Growing up on the Southside meant you don’t have a lot to begin with, but throw in some lousy parents and missed rent payment, and you have no other choice to say goodbye trailer that you’ve grown up in, and hello to cramped, dark school supply closet.

Things haven’t been great at home, my dad has been drinking more than usual and my mom was off doing god knows what, but me? I was coping...kinda. Doing a few shifts at the Wyrm each week and the money that my dad made when he actually did work was enough to scrape by. However school had picked up its pace, meaning revision and homework instead of wiping down bars. And dad had been more than useless, a few days later him and mom had disappeared, leaving behind a note saying they were going away for a while. Meaning I missed the rent payment (+ apparently dad hadn’t been the best at keeping up with them), so I was kicked out, and with no where else to go, Riverdale High is my new home. Yay, me...

I mean sure, I have friends on the Southside. I have plenty of them, but they have their own problems and their trailers were small enough as it is, never mind adding one more person.

And living in the school isn’t that bad. For a supply closet, its kinda cozy. I have a little blow up bed, a duvet and tons of shelves to put all my things on, I just have to share them with cleaning products and mouse traps. But, it’s in a part of the school thats rarely visited and I do get first dibs on the vending machines when they’re re-filled, plus I know where to hit them exactly to get free food. And because I’m staying at the school constantly, I know all the drama thats happening with the teachers. Like who’s sleeping with who and who’s stealing Mrs Thompson’s pens.

Oh, who am I kidding. Living in a school sucks. It’s lonely, cramped and cold. Plus, just a nightmare. The only plus point? The showers. The school showers are the best I’ve ever had. They’re the highlight of my day, which to be honest, is quite sad to admit.

Okay, 3:30. That means I have two hours to kill before the school is completely empty and then I can shower. Library or bleachers? Library, I’ll do my homework for the week.

“Y/n!!!!” Sweet Pea’s deep voice breaks the silence that has settled over the library, making me giggle. “What the fuck are you looking at?” He glares at two people sat at the table beside him who are staring and shaking their head at him. Both of them shake their head quickly and stare at the table.

“I don’t mean to offend you.” I start and sit opposite him. “But what exactly are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He asks offended.

“Its 3:34, meaning school finished ages ago, and you’re sat in the library doing...” I trail off as I look at the work he has open in front of him. “Spiderman?”

“I can’t afford to buy it, but sometimes the library gets the new ones in, however because I’m a Serpent, I can’t take them home.” He explains.

“Ohhhh. Yeah that makes more sense than you actually doing homework.”

“Yeah. Who do you think I am?”

“Sooooo.” I start, taking out the History homework from my bag. “Where’s the rest of the gang?”

“Ermmm.” He says absentmindedly. “Toni is with Cheryl. As always.” He rolls his eyes making me giggle. “Fangs is helping Kevin with the drama department. And Jones? I dunno where Jones is. I saw him last period but he was acting weird.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. Weird.”

“Care to expand?”

“Not really no.” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to read.”

“Ouch.” I placed a hand over my heart. “Don’t worry, I got the hint. I’ll shut up.” I added and he grinned at me.

-----

“Do you wanna ride home?” Sweet Pea asks as he stands up.

“Errr.” I stuttered. “Its fine. I have a bit more to do.”

“You sure?” He asks again and I nod slightly, sending him a soft smile. “Watch out Y/n. Your bordering on nerd territory.” He teases and I roll my eyes. He laughed as he walked to the front desk, handing the comic to the old lady that was looking him up and down.

“Ha. Ha.” I deadpan and he looks back, laughing softly.

“See ya.” He mock salutes before wandering out the library, leaving me alone...again.

5:25 finally rolled around and I dragged myself out of the library and down the dark corridor so I could hide for five minutes. Once I was sure that everyone left I grabbed my towel and wash bag and made my way to the showers in the basement. Whistling as I went. Sometimes its nice to fill the quiet, what’s not nice though, is when you hear somebody else whistling faintly.

“Oh shit.” I whispered and gripped the towel tighter to my body. Because that’s gonna save you from a serial killer. Okay. What would any normal person do in this situation. Well, I suppose no normal person would be living inside a school, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to ask myself.

Right, I have three options. Go back to the supply closet I call home and hope to god that whoever this person or thing is, doesn’t need any cleaning supplies in the near future. Run far away from the school and sleep in the park until they go away. Or be brave and maybe a little stupid and face this school demon, head on. Maybe it was the fact that I had been living in the school for a few days, making me slightly delirious. Or maybe it was because I’d witnessed Sweet Pea reading for what felt like the first time in forever, but apparently I’m feeling brave, so toothbrush gripped tightly in one hand, and razor in the other, towel over the shoulder and wash bag tucked under my arm, I decide to investigate...very slowly. Until I figure out if whatever this things is, is a threat or not.

“Wait.” That tune is familiar. The whistling has turned into soft singing. “Is that Britney?” I ask myself, relaxing as I stop in the middle of the corridor. What kind of ghost/demon/killer sings Britney Spears while they’re showering in school?

Whoever is in the shower is not threatening, however this could all be one big ploy to brutally murder me. I grip the toothbrush tighter and slowly make my way forward, until I’m stood right in front of the shower curtain. Whoever this person is, is really getting into the chorus of ...Baby One More Time, making a smile replace the frown on my face. Okay, deep breath Y/n. You can do this. And if this is how you die, at least they’ll be a good soundtrack to go out with. Pulling the curtain back, I make eye contact with a very familiar Serpent and the two of us stand screaming for a few seconds.

“Jughead!?” I shout, my hand gripping the shower curtain tightly. The razor and wash bag have long been forgotten, failing to the floor as I opened the curtain, but the toothbrush is still gripped hard in my hand and I can’t help but think how unthreatening I would look if this was a serial killer and not just a fellow serpent.

“What the fuck!!!” He screams and squeezes the soap he was using as a microphone.

“Ahhhh. Holy shit! Cover yourself up.” I stutter and start to back up, my hands covering my eyes.

“Cover up?” He asks. “I’m in the shower!” He adds and grabs the shower curtain, hastily covering himself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, finally recovering from the shock. However I can’t help but bite my lip and the sight that was just before me. Jughead Jones in all of his glory. I mean, it’s not so bad.

“What am I doing here?” He asks sarcastically and I nod my head. “I’m having a fucking wedding, what does it look like.” He shouts, now more angry than anything else and I flinch at the tone.

“Sorry.” I mumble, hastily picking my stuff up from the floor and turning around. “Forget you saw me here, and I’ll forget I saw you. And I’m really sorry.” I ramble, my cheeks heating up. I make it a few steps forward before a wet hand is on my wrist pulling me back. I turn around, finding myself face to face with Jughead. My eyes trail down and my eyebrow quirks up. “I think you forgot something.” I whisper in his ear and he looks at me confused before looking down and blushing profusely.

“Can you pass me my towel please?” He asks quietly and I nod, an amused smile taking over my features. I pass him the towel that was hanging on a stall beside me and he hastily wraps himself up. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and you shrug.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have snapped. I just got a...fright. I thought I was in some sort of re-enactment of Psycho.”

“I thought I was in a re-enactment of every teen horror film ever while I walked down the corridor.” I admit and the two of us laughed softly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Family troubles. Me and my dad have been arguing recently so I decided to get away, give him some space.” He shrugs, a sad expression taking over his face. I frown sympathetically at him and place a hand on the top of his arm, giving it a soft squeeze.

“How long you been staying here?”

“A few weeks. I’ll probably go back soon.”

“Why didn’t you just stay with some friends. You have plenty?” I ask and he looks around the room shyly.

“I, err. I didn’t want to bother any of them.” He admits.

“Ah...I get that.” I nod and the two of us look around awkwardly. “Well, erm. I’ll let you get back to your shower. You still had suds in your hair and you need to finish the rest of your song.” I excuse myself and start to walk backwards. “I must say Jones, I didn’t have you down as a Britney fan.” I tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Wait!” He calls and I stop.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you here?” He asks and its now my turn to look away. The floor looks really appealing right now, so much so that I think I may be burning a hole into the tile. However, the intensity of Jughead’s stare is burning a hole in my head and I can’t take it for much longer. I suppose he told me why he’s here, I may as well give him the same.

“My mom and dad went...away...for a while.” I start, trying to piece together the right words. Its so much harder to say out loud, to another actual human being and the tears in my eyes are threatening to fall. However, I’m not gonna cry in front of a half naked Jughead Jones while the two of us stand in the schools bathroom. At least not today. “Schools been kicking my ass so I had to stop working at the Wyrm and well, I ended up missing the rent. So now I’m here. Home sweet home.” I try to play it off and it’s my turn for the sympathetic look, which for the record, is absolutely no help at all.

“Y/n...” He starts, his eyes softening as he looks at me out of pity. “I’m so so-”

“It’s fine.” I cut him off.

“Do you know when they’ll be back?”

“Who?” I ask, I’m only half listening now, there’s a lot of things going on in my mind right now, but the main thing is that Jughead is stood half naked in front of me. And I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about this. I mean, maybe not in this context and he is totally fully naked, but, I mean its practically the same thing.

“Your parents.”

“Oh, I dunno. Probably soon. But until then it’s Riverdale High all the way!” I fake cheer and he laughs.

“Yep.” He agrees and raises his fist slightly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” I shrug.

“Ah.”

“Yeahhh.” I trail off and we look at each other. His eyes look so pretty in this light. And his hair is all floppy and curly an-

“Did you hear that?” He asks, panic evident in his voice and eyes.

“What?” I ask, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into the shower cubicle.

“Jones! Ask a lady firs-”

“Shhh.” He places a hand over my mouth and my eyes widen in surprise. His arm is around my waist pulling me tightly against him and the dampness from his chest in making my t-shirt kinda wet. However my thoughts are quickly interrupted when the door to the bathroom opens and the two of us share a look.

“What the hell?” A man’s voice asks confused and I squeeze my eyes shut. If we’re caught like this, we’re dead for so many reasons. The two of us listen closely as the man picks up the things I dropped on the floor. He looks around, well I assume he does. He could be doing anything for all I know. And then he walks out, closing the door behind him and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The two of us stay in the position for a few minutes longer before I look between the two of us and pull apart (as much as I didn’t want to).

“Dammit.” I mutter as I open the shower curtain. “He stole my things. The only thing I have is my toothbrush.” Jughead laughs softly behind me and I turn to glare at him playfully. “And that was my good razor too...and towel!”

“You can always share mine.” Jughead suggests and I eye him suspiciously.

“What exactly are you proposing Jones?”

“That you can share my soap and shower gel...and shower.” He winks at the end making me snort, before blushing profusely. “You’re cute.” He laughs and I roll my eyes. “Are you coming?” He asks and holds the shower curtain open.

“Hopefully.” I reply, sending him a smirk and making my way back towards him and the shower. He turns it on and takes his towel off as I quickly undress. And soon the two of us are stood in front of each other, the hot water running over us as he looks at me with lust filled eyes. “Well, this is not how I imagined today ending.”

“Are you complaining?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head and his lips are on mine in an instant. He pushes me backwards, his hands gripping my waist as my back hits the cold shower wall and I shiver against him. He pulls me closer to him, making me whimper at the feeling of pushing against me. My hands trail down his chest, while his fingers tangle in my hair and pulls softly. I stop just above where he needs me most and he pulls harder making me moan. The sound seems to travel straight to his dick as his semi, hardens against my thigh. My hand finds it and slowly starts to pump him up and down making him groan in my mouth.

“Fuck.” He moans softly, the wetness between my legs builds up and I smirk and move quicker. He pulls away and I pout, however he soon makes up for it, one hand plays with my nipples while the other travels down my stomach and stops just above my clit.

“Please.” I whimper and he gives me a lopsided grin before he starts to rub me, a finger dipping into my core making me buck my hips. He pulls out and away as quickly as he was in me and I whine, a pout taking over my features.

“Jump, pretty girl.” He whispers in my ear and I waste no time in obeying. Jumping and wrapping my legs around his hips while his arms hold the back of my thighs, pushing me against the shower wall again. He pulls away just a little in order to line himself up with my core, and then presses a kiss against my lips as he slides in slowly. We both moan at the feeling and his head leans against mine as he starts to move, slowly at first but the pace soon quickens until my back is hitting off the wall and his hands are gripping at my things, both hard enough to leave marks. “You feel so good around me.” He manages to make out between heavy breaths.

“Fuckkkk.” I moan loudly and he looks at me with an unreadable expression.

“So good baby girl.” He adds breathily.

“Faster.” I manage to pant out and he thrusts his hips harder and faster, one of the hands gripping the back of my thighs travels to my clit and he rubs hard figure-eights on it, making me scream. The sound of skin against skin mixes with both our moans and they echo against the tiles, which turns me on more.

“You close baby girl?” He asks, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and I nod before smashing my lips against his.

“You’re so hot.” I pant and he giggles against my lips.

“Thats you baby.” His movements gradually increase before I moan loudly and scratch my nails down his back, my walls clenching around him as I cum. He follows quickly and drops my legs gently. I shake a little and use his shoulders to keep myself steady. The two of us catch our breath, the hot water running over us, and the only sound in the bathroom being the two of them mixed together. I can’t help but smile up at Jughead, who is already smiling back at me. We catch our breaths and actually start washing.

“Ya know.” I start and he looks at me intrigued. “Maybe living in school won’t be that bad.” I shrug and he laughs.

“Maybe not, no.” He agrees. “However if I knew this would happen I would have moved in ages ago.”

“I didn’t live here ages ago.” I remind him and he rolls his eyes as he pushes his head underwater.

“Yeah, I know.” He replies sarcastically and I stick my tongue out at him.

“Quit hogging the water.” I push him softly and he laughs.

“I’m not.” He defends and I raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs louder before moving out the way. “Here, let me.” He says, picking the shower gel up from the bathroom floor.

“Thanks.” I blush as he pours some on his hands before rubbing it into my scalp.

“Y/n?” He asks and I hum in acknowledgment. “When I move back in with my dad...if your parents aren’t back, you’re welcome to stay with me.”

“Thanks Juggy.” I reply sincerely and the two of us blush at the nickname. “However, I don’t know if I’m gonna get used to you singing Britney. Don’t get me wrong, I love Britney, she’s an icon. But you butchered her.” I tease and he pulls my hair playfully, however it has the opposite effect that he wanted, and I end up moaning softly. “Hey!” I turn around and glare at him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

#jughead #jughead x reader #jughead imagine #jughead x you #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones x you #riverdale imagine #riverdale #riverdale smut #jughead smut #jughead jones smut

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mcrmadness · 3 years

Text

I know I am constantly talking about this but I won’t stop before I get answers, which means I’m probably gonna talk about this forever: arts and especially being an artist on social media platforms. And how it sucks.

I don’t understand what I should do to feel seen at this point? If I draw something fandom related, mainly the people within that fandom will react to the art but not others, and still that is very little amount of people. If I draw something completely original, NO ONE reacts to that and I don’t understand why. And it’s not just me but so many others too.

I still cannot understand why comics and cartoony styles are so much less appreciated and liked than photorealism. It’s not actually any easier really. Just last night I spent a couple of hours on my sofa drawing panels for 3 upcoming comics, that was just 3 A4 papers but it still took me a couple of hours to do. Because I draw traditionally and I draw everything, including the lines, myself. I’m not getting any help from computers even if I could. I’m getting better and better at that and finding things that work for me the more I do this but still, drawing comics is not as easy as it might look like. Before I maybe just grabbed a pen and started drawing but that never actually led me to anywhere because I had no plot. So I have tons of old comics here that I started but never ever finished. Then I figured I have to start writing plots first and that way I could also finish something finally.

^This is what it takes to prepare and do a base for a comic. There’s three pages with the panels’ edges sketched. I use rulers to measure how big areas I want there to be around the panels and then measure and count (which I’m really bad at) how long and tall each panel will be. Before I struggled a lot with getting the lines to be at the same distance from both ends but lately I’ve found myself a way to do that, and it’s relatively quick to do now too.

^Here I have written down the digits from the ruler to know where to draw the little dots that I know to follow with the ruler when I do the lines of the panels. Normally I do just one comic at a time but this time I was feeling like doing all 3 upcoming comics’ lines at one go cos that’s always the most annoying part and after that I don’t need to worry about that anymore (until the next comic idea happens) and I can just focus on the fun part: drawing the stuff inside those panels.

Nowadays I do a whole lot of planning before I get to working, too. Usually just the planning takes about 4-5 pages from my bigger sketchbook and I will write down alternative stuff as I go if I can’t decide over something or am not sure if it’s going to work. Sometimes I write the same dialog a few times because something isn’t working or I can’t fit them into the amount of panels I need, or because there’s not enough activity in the panels and need to discard some parts of the dialog. I usually see my comics in the form of video in my head that I then have to convert into still images, from there I then start to build the pages and try to make all them to match.

I do storyboards in both stick figures, sometimes more than once, as well as in quick sketches. I will plan carefully how many panels I need so that I know how many papers I need and which way I can fit all the panels in the paper(s). That often means either adding or dropping panels to avoid having too much empty space on a page - something I didn’t do before, I just drew the panels somewhere and never really stopped to think about the aesthetics of the comic itself.

^This is an example of my latest comic and how do I do the page planning. I couldn’t fit the events into 3 panels. Originally it was going to be like a comic strip but it was too long for that so I ended up doing a full page (A4) with 4 panels instead. I found this is a working method for me: to draw the paper and see how the “panels” would look like on that. I drew these along with the stick figures and I will often write numbers into the panels to know which part of the dialog/event happens in which panel.

When the actual drawing process starts, I still actively use my sketchbooks (I have two) to practice something I’m not sure how to draw and I will also use reference photos for that. I will also try out things if I only have a shady image in my head and need to see how it really looks like so I might e.g. draw a similar posture a few different ways to see which one of those matches the one in my imagination the best. I will also test colors, layering, blending, shading and all that jazz as well.

^And this is what some of those “studies” look like, these are to the previous comic as well. I usually am not entirely sure what I want until I see it on the paper as sometimes the images in my head are not as vivid and bright as I would want them to be and something might look good there but terrible and wrong on the paper instead. Here I struggled with the coloring because as you can see, I know how to do the proper “night shading” in black and white but it was very tricky to do in color!

So that’s just a quick look at how I do my comics and it really is not that I just grab a fineliners (anymore) and draw and that’s it. There’s pages and pages of careful planning and testing in my sketchbooks, there’s lots of measuring and losing my mind during the measuring-the-lines-for-the-panels part... I sketch the stuff to the panels often two times with pencils, first with just human shaped figures to see the overall pictures and then turning them into characters and adding all the details. After that I move onto the finelining, erase pencil marks and start coloring and doing shadows. When all that is done, I will do the finelining one more time so that the lines are actually black and not faded under the colored pencils.

In the end I do this all basically for myself but I also want to draw “to other people”. No one’s paying me anything so my only payment is to see or hear other people reacting to it. The biggest reward ever that I can get is to hear “that made me laugh!” because that’s why I draw comics. I want to make people laugh. And it isn’t working if no one looks at them, and when no one tells me why no one looks at them. Or at least people don’t let me know they have looked at it, they don’t let me know what they think of them so I am just left with the assumption that people don’t like my art at all and that it’s not worth commenting.

It’s incredibly dishearthening. It feels the same as when a child does something and goes to show them to their parent and the parent is just “yeah whatever”. Or when you are a teen come up with and show or tell it to your friends and everyone is like “I don’t care”. You might have the passion there but slowly it starts to die because you have the need for sharing but everyone is only caring about themselves and not other people anymore. It’s really sad actually.

#mcrmadness' art talk #art #arts #drawing #comics

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kayr0ss · 4 years

Text

The Masterplan (Diakko)

[LWA, Diakko, kind of an AU?, funny, absolutely disastrous, nothing goes according to plan, but their friends are so supportive!!!!! ...car chase??]

Summary: Akko is planning a confession. On the other side of the playing field - Hannah and Barbara are dead-set on their best-friend getting the girl of her dreams.So of course nothing goes to plan. Not even close. It's a complete, fast-paced, adorable disaster. [Modern AU]

Akko was on a mission.

She was riding shotgun in Lotte’s car, speeding through the highways of Glastonbury city with the urgency of a government spy. It was finally go-time.

She was finally confessing to Diana Cavendish.

They’ve gone over The Plan three-times over by now—Sucy, Lotte, and herself—and the warm glow of a perfect Friday afternoon felt like an omen for good-and-romantic things to come. The time was nigh—it was now or never.

Now, Akko was no fool. She knew that Lotte and Sucy were only in it so she’d shut up about The Masterplan once and for all, but she appreciated their help nonetheless. And maybe she’d take back what she just said because Lotte seemed genuinely invested in planting the seeds of love and romance.

“Flowers. Lights. Confession.” Akko muttered to herself for the hundredth time, earning an eyeroll from Lotte (who was in charge of lights) behind the wheel.

“It will be fine, Akko.”

“It’s me!” She groaned, throwing a hand up to gesture emphasis. “Anything that can possibly go wrong goes wrong with me!”

“I second this.”

“Thanks for the support, Sucy.” Akko groaned sarcastically. “I ate way too much, way too fast in my nervousness earlier and now I’m bloated and likely ruined my appetite for our dinner!”

“Dinner?” Lotte spared her a sidelong glance, zipping through the highway and causing her passengers to lurch in their seats. “That wasn’t part of The Masterplan. You completely overlooked any sort of food-prep.”

“Kuso!” Akko groaned. “I’ll just wing it! Let’s just get those flowers.”

“Take a left here,” Sucy tapped on Lotte’s shoulders. She was a botanist and therefore assigned to help with the flowers. She made plans to arrange a bouquet with her contact at the local shop, and had reluctantly sworn an oath to forego anything poisonous—with sucked—but it was for Akko, and it was just for one night.

Time was of the essence.

Lotte drummed her fingertips against the steering wheel in anticipation when they came to halt along a stoplight. The Masterplan’s execution was set for eight o’clock, and it was already four-thirty in the afternoon.

Three and half hours.

Set-up their small backyard patio with lights.

Get ready with the best flowers.

And let Akko handle the confession.

Simple. Effective.

Ultimately, disastrous.

---

“She said it’d be just the two of you?” Barbara leaned forward, watching with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as Diana paced around her office at the hospital.

“Yes.” The blonde woman had sunk into a trance-like state of thought. Thinking. Thinking at a hundred miles per hour. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for.

“I—I’m going to confess.”

“Finally!” Hannah practically slammed her fist down the table.

“It must be done perfectly.” Diana said with conviction. “I must get her flowers, and I should at least offer to cover our meal. Do you think she likes Japanese?”

“Likes? She is Japanese! Though she might be sick of it.” Barbara shrugged.

“Or—” Hannah perked up. “—missing it terribly after having stayed in London for so long.”

Curses. They were only at ‘food’ and it was already beginning to get complicated.

“Should I just ask her?”

“No way!” Barbara gasped. “You’re gonna blow Kagari away with a surprise without spoiling anything.”

“She is rather fond of surprises.” Diana stopped her pacing to run her hand through perfect, blonde hair.

“So what’s the plan, Dia?” Hannah urged, already sharing a grin with Barbara.

“Flowers. Food. Confession.”

Simple.

Hannah was already calling the flower store.

---

“What do you mean someone reserved them already?!”

Sucy glowered at the shopkeeper, and Lotte and Akko had to physically back away as though she had grown fangs.

“I’m sorry!” The clerk raised his hands defensively. “Like, just five minutes ago!”

“After everything we’ve been through, Hendrick?! I even called that I was coming by!”

“You always buy the weird stuff you know? And besides, I’ve got other roses aside from Ecuadorian ones, I think—”

“Not settling for anything other than the best.” Sucy was determined. “Names. I need names. Who bought them?”

“I can’t tell you—”

“You can and will.”

“Look, I—”

“You two!” Sucy had spun around, locking her eyes with Lotte. “Get back and get the garden ready. I’ll deal with this mystery buyer and follow in a minute.”

“’Deal with’?” Lotte gawked. “How are you even going to—”

Sucy Manbavaran would never be outdone when it came to plants. This was personal now.

“Go!”

---

“I’ll pick them up and meet you in a few!” Hannah grinned excitedly. “Barbs, you know what to do!”

“She does?” Diana blinked, allowing herself to get dragged by the wrist towards Barbara’s car in the hospital parking lot.

“You’re not going on a date wearing your scrubs.”

“I had no such plans to.”

“Casual won’t do either!” Barbara nagged, fishing for her keys. “You’ve gotta look drop-dead gorgeous.”

“I—I don’t think it’s necessary to.”

“Shush, hon. I just want you to relax and think Akko thoughts, or whatever.”

“Akko thoughts aren’t exactly… relaxing as of the moment.”

“Fair point.”

“Where to?”

Barbara took a quick glance towards her watch and pursed her lips in thought. “Shopping. Then food.”

“Shopping—?”

“Shut up and get in the car!”

---

“She’s crazy!” Akko shrieked. “She had that crazy look in her eyes, like she’s about to poison someone!”

“Well we’re going to have to trust her because it’s five-fifteen and the patio is far from ready!”

Lotte was back behind the wheel, zooming through traffic towards her trinket shop. It was a lot less time than she was comfortable with. Lacing the gazebo with firefly lights and battery-operated teacup candles likely took longer than her mental estimate.

“How are you feeling?” She glanced towards Akko. “You’re looking pale.”

“I—I’m fine.” The brunette said in a contorted voice. Lotte brushed it off as nervousness (which was a rare enough emotion for Akko).

“You sure?”

“Yup!” Akko nodded in determination, steeling her resolve. “Kami-sama, why can’t we just be dating already?”

“Just a few more hours until you are, Akko.”

“If she likes me back!”

“Which she will.”

“But have you seen her Lotte?” Akko began to ramble.

“Many times, yes.”

“How is she even real—what am I doing?! Oh no, oh no, oh no am I seriously going to confess—”

“Breathe!”

Lotte gave her best friend the surest smile she could muster.

“She will.”

---

It was now five forty-seven.

“You.”

Sucy narrowed her eyes, staring straight into hazel. She had camped out in the flower shop, figuring that whoever placed such an urgent order would show up any minute to pick them up. True enough, a familiar woman in a white-coat with auburn hair came bursting through, shouting for her order of Ecuadorian roses.

“Sucy.” Hannah sneered, crossing her arms. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Those flowers you ordered are mine. I got here first.”

“No way!” Hannah challenged. “I put in the call. He said they were available.”

“How can that take precedence over a client already in-store and paying on the spot?” Sucy turned her calm but heavy glare towards Hendrick, who was sweating bullets while looking between the two women.

“I already paid!” Hannah pulled out her phone triumphantly, showing the screenshot of an online payment transfer. Sucy cursed herself for not having the foresight to have done so earlier.

“I—I don’t make the rules ma’am.” Hendrick conceded, carefully presenting the lovely bouquet of twenty-four roses to the woman who happened to be Sucy’s friend—if only through the sheer force of Akko’s gravitational-friendship-pull. The poor shopkeeper looked pale, trapped between the two very different yet equally threatening auras.

“I’m leaving. Buy something else!” Hannah had turned around dramatically, stepping out through the door with her hair bouncing through the motions.

“You never told me you had online orders.” Sucy told Hendrick evenly.

“I—It was launched recently.”

“Screw that,” she said with gritted teeth. On whim, she decided to follow Hannah, walking into the street and whistling as loudly as she can towards the nearest cab.

A middle-aged man with a bushy moustache looked up from behind the window. “Where to, missy?”

“No questions!” Sucy jumped into the front seat. “Follow that car—and don’t fucking call me missy!”

---

“You’re being—what?” Barbara shrieked as quietly as she could. Just as Diana entered the dressing room a minute ago, her phone began ringing with Hannah’s photo popping up. “Chased? By Sucy? For the flowers?”

[“Yes! She’s a madwoman! Probably going to blow something up with another potion or—"]

“Don’t call me while you’re driving!” Barbara hissed, looking back towards the dressing room which was slowly opening.

Diana stepped out, looking lovely in a sheer white top and cream slacks. She asked how she looked and Barbara had quickly tossed another top for her to try, desperately trying to keep up with Hannah’s rambling on the other line.

“You look great—love the pants—try this blue one! Come on, come on! In you go, nothing to stress about!”

“Stress about?” Diana blinked, frowning. “Is that Hans on the phone?”

“Yeah, it’s all going swell!” Barbara’s voice pitched a little too high. “In you go!”

“O—Okay.”

She had practically slammed the door into Diana’s face, and with a deep breath she diverted her attention back to Hannah.

“Don’t overspeed, and why are you two having a car chase?! It’s just flowers!”

---

“Just flowers?!” Hannah repeated, aghast. “Not when it’s for one of the most important days of our best friend’s life, they aren’t!”

She took a sharp turn at the nearest street, going nowhere in particular if only to shake Sucy off. It was an unfortunately wide road and she was opposite the rush hour lane, leaving it relatively traffic free. She had no intention of breaking speed limits and was forced to stay at seventy. Soon enough, the cab pulled up at her right.

Sucy rolled down the window, looking as worked up as Hannah had ever seen her in their time knowing each other. The driver seemed like he was having the time of his life. “I’ll pay for its price plus ten pounds on top!”

“You think I’m cheap?!” She shouted back, doing her best to keep her driving steady.

“Twenty!”

“You can’t buy me, Sucy! Not for this occasion—not ever!” She grit her teeth and banked towards the left, putting a truck in between them.

Barbara was still in the call.

[“By the nines, Hannah!”]

---

“Whoa!” Akko blinked, head whipping to the side while she followed a familiar-looking SUV speed down the road, seemingly chased by a cab. “Shit’s crazy today!”

“Come on, Akko!” Lotte led her out of the trinket shop’s front and back to her parked car. It took them around forty-five minutes just trying to find the perfect set of lights and the clock was ticking. Akko’s nerves were beginning to fray, and the woman was jumpy, reckless (more so than usual) and generally hyper—

“Akko, be careful!”

—active.

By the nine.

There was a loud thud—and the resonance of something very hard bumping into metal.

That was it.

The Masterplan would have to wait.

Akko ran into a lamppost and passed out with a bleeding nose.

---

“I haven’t heard from Akko.”

It was now seven in the evening and Diana was beginning to fret. She and her friends had returned to her flat to get her ready, but she thought the brunette would at least message her. Should she send another text? She did just half-an-hour ago, informing the brunette she was heading home to get ready. Is a call too forward?

Goodness. She shook her head—why would it be too forward? They were by no means strangers. Far from it! She blushed, this whole thing was getting to her and she hated it. Deciding she could very much call Atsuko Kagari whenever she pleased, she slipped out her phone and dialed.

“She has a heart emoji after her name?” Hannah snickered.

Diana ignored it, flushing red. Her phone rang. And rang. But Akko never picked up.

She exhaled in frustration, wondering if Akko had gotten herself mixed up in another form of disaster. It wasn’t a far-fetched assumption. Or did she ditch her? No, she wasn’t like that. Was she?

Her eyes fell towards the navy-blue top she had picked from the store, and then towards the most beautiful bundle of roses she had ever seen.

It looked perfect. Except—

“Did you really get into a car chase for this?”

“Yup!” Hannah raised a fist in victory. “And I won too. Sucy just up and backed off.”

“That’s suspicious.” Barbara narrowed her eyes. “But I still insist you are absolutely insane for pulling that!”

“What matters—” Hannah crossed her arms. “—is I got the job done.”

Diana sighed, growing anxious and excited at the same time. She glanced back towards her phone. “Let’s just hope I get to give them.”

---

“A lamppost.” Sucy stared at Lotte evenly. “Unbelievable. I got into a fucking car chase only for this moron to walk into a lamppost.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“It’s Akko. She’ll be fine. Hasn’t she broken like, every bone in her body at this point?”

Well. She wasn’t wrong. They were in the Glastobury hospital and Lotte hoped Diana would be on-duty, but upon asking the nurse’s station she clocked out early for today.

“What did Diana say?” Lotte asked Sucy.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t text her?”

“I thought you did.”

“Sucy!”

“You’re the one with her number.”

“But I—”

“Are you her flat-mates?” A young-looking doctor peered through the door of Akko’s recovery room. She broke her nose—but there was no need for a rhinoplasty and therefore she didn’t need admission. Broken nose aside, Akko was in surprisingly good health, bearing an almost-Olympic endurance which in hindsight explained her ability to recover from seemingly anything.

“Yes!” Lotte nodded diligently.

“Well you can take her home now. This one is crazy—she’s already sitting up after an hour of recovery. But I do need to warn you she’s—uh—”

“She’s?” Sucy prodded, hiding her concern under the guise of impatience.

“High as a kite?”

---

Akko was having a good time.

A good time.

She laughed, her head feeling woozy, her hands moving as though they were floating in water and—it was just so funny! By the nines this was the shit!

Her nose kinda felt funny though. Weird.

“Akko?”

Huh? Is—it’s a friend! Akko grinned. Her best friend! “Oh Lotte.”

“That’s just trippy.” Another voice said.

One eye only? Oh it must be Sucy!

“Your hair—” Akko smiled whimsically. “It’s freaking whack, Sucy.”

“Why does she still sound like herself?” Sucy turned to Lotte.

“I told you to be careful!” Lotte wailed, moving to her side to help her up.

“This is place is so bright.” Akko narrowed her groggy eyes, her head lolling about while she inspected her surroundings. Then she gasped. “Where’s Diana! This is Diana’s work!”

“She isn’t here.” Lotte placated. “And sit down—you’ll hurt yourself again!”

In the snap of a finger, Akko was done laughing and suddenly began to pout.

“I miss Diana.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here any second—”

“She said she’d go hooooome first.” Akko pointed towards her phone, sitting on the bedside of the outpatient recovery room.

Lotte sighed. “Come on, you need to go home too.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Akko asked innocently before leaning in and whispering to the two as though to share a secret. Then she broke into another grin—a charming, lopsided grin that screamed ‘painkillers!’

Lotte looked towards Sucy. The latter just shrugged. “Why the hell not? Saves her the time to go here and she’d know what to do with Akko.”

---

It was now seven-forty-six.

Barbara sped down the highway to the hospital, feeling every bit sorry for Diana who was cradling her head in her palms in the passenger’s seat. Although it was a little funny, and apparently Hannah thought so too, based on the snickering in the back.

“That’s just like her, though!” Hannah finally grinned.

Hannah was right. And honestly, Diana knew she’d be fine. But of course this would happen—and only to Akko. The world wasn’t so kind as to allow the night she finally decided to confess to be easy, right?

Dr. Strenger had dutifully informed her that a patient he recognized as Diana’s friend was admitted for a nasal fracture. All she needed to hear was ‘brown hair’, ‘red eyes’, and ‘lamppost’ and it was enough. Thankfully, it seemed Akko’s recovery was marvelous (unsurprising) and that Lotte and Sucy had accompanied her.

They pulled up into the parking lot and Hannah groaned. “Back to our workplace, yikes. You better do good by that bouquet, Diana! I almost died for that!”

She huffed, stepping into the familiar entry way dressed way too nicely for the hospital and holding a gigantic bouquet of flowers.

The receptionist blinked. A few of the nurses had turned their heads at the sight of her. “Dr. Cavendish?”

“Spare me the comments.” She lamented. “What room us is—ah.” Why was she blushing? In front of her colleagues! “Atsuko Kagari.”

“Oh, miss Akko!”

Right. Between accidents and visiting Diana, the staff knew her by now.

“She came in a pretty bad shape, but she didn’t need to be admitted. Dr. Strenger sent her home.”

“She isn’t here?”

“Actually,” the receptionist tilted her head. “On their way out she was screaming rather loudly that she was going to straight to your place?”

Her—what?

---

“I don’t think this is Diana’s house.”

Sucy elbowed Lotte, the pair of them standing behind a still-delirious Akko who rang the doorbell to a three-story tall apartment. It looked every bit as posh as its red-brick façade suggested. It was imposing. Classical. Nestled in a street of similarly luxurious dwellings that had cars Lotte had only seen in magazines—parked in garages or even right at the streets.

“But this is where Akko directed us to.” Lotte shrugged.

The door finally opened, and they tried so very hard not to face-palm.

---

“Atsuko.”

Akko grinned, feeling woozy, and reaching forward to shake the hand reluctantly offered to her. As she’s told herself earlier in the day, she was no fool. She knew she was tripping—her guess was either anesthesia or painkillers—or wait, were those the same things? Or like… not? Huh. She should ask Diana alter and—oh-right-she-was-still-shaking-Aunt-Daryl’s-hand!

“Hello!”

“A—Are you quite alright?” The elder Cavendish tentatively asked, eyeing her nose.

“Oh yah.” Akko waived a hand, giggling. “Lamppost.”

“Of course.”

Akko swore that was a little smile! It was a lot of work, but they at very least didn’t hate each other anymore. Unlike at first. Charming—that was Akko’s middle name! Actually it wasn’t, but—

“It may as well be.” Daryl commented.

Holy shit, did she say that out loud?

“You did.”

“Anyway—” Akko squeaked “—I came to visit Dia?”

Daryl blinked, then looked over to the two friends Akko had brought with her.

“I think you should come inside.”

Akko nodded, the action of it made her still-groggy head spin and eventually she lost her balance, falling forward—

—and getting caught by the wrong Cavendish’s arms. So wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Not this one!

“I’mma take you up on that offer.” Akko mumbled, apologizing profusely while she righted herself.

---

A soft 'ping' alerted Diana to a text message.

Daryl Cavendish (1)

“What on earth does she want at this hour?” Diana mumbled to herself, sulking once again in Barbara’s passenger seat. “As if I don’t have enough to worry with Akko—oh by the nines!”

The sheer volume of her voice was enough to make both Hannah and Barbara snap in attention.

8:26 Daryl Cavendish: Diana. Someone very interesting has come to visit, although I’m afraid she forgot your updated address.

“Christ.” Barbara groaned. “That’s at the opposite end of where we’re going. I love you but I’m getting real tired of driving you around.”

8:27 Daryl Cavendish: I look forward to hearing your side of this story. 8:27 Daryl Cavendish: 😉

Diana’s ears turned bright red. Hannah looked over her shoulder to read and outright laughed.

“Just drive, Barbs. Have mercy on Diana’s poor soul.”

---

“She said that?” Daryl’s eyebrows inched upwards every so lightly.

“She totally did! Diana’s a lot cheesier than people think.” Akko smiled smugly.

She had checked her nose via a mirror in the living room, and all she could do was laugh. Cause she didn’t feel like she had a nose. Or an… anything. It was so weird to move her hands around and like, not feel them moving.

Daryl paused for a moment to check at her phone. “Hm. Diana will be here shortly.”

“Yeesh.” Akko grinned, rubbing at the back of her head sheepishly. “I can’t believe I forgot she moved out last year.”

“You helped her move.” Daryl said pointedly.

“I know!” Akko shrugged. “I forgot that too. Head’s all woozy. Having a good a time though!”

“I… am glad to hear that?” The elder Cavendish turned towards Lotte and Sucy. “Are you two alright?”

The two women held up their hands, shaking their heads with jumbled responses of “Yep!” and “We’re fine!” and “Just go ahead and talk!” and “Take your time!”

---

“Well this takes me back.” Barbara peaked up at Daryl’s excessive apartment through the driver’s side window. “Alright”, she elbowed Diana. “Go get your woman!”

Diana looked absolutely spent. But also, a bit relieved. She’ll finally see her—the circumstances didn’t matter. Somehow all this craziness felt just like Akko and after hours of chasing her around she was… just excited to see her again.

She felt a swell of affection in her chest. The same feeling that pushed her to think about confessing in the first place.

“Will—Will you two come with me?”

Hannah clapped her shoulder. “You think after this entire afternoon we’d ditch on you now?”

Barbara grinned at her, encouragingly. “Come on, lover girl.”

“Please don’t ever call me that again.”

---

“Diana!”

Akko practically wept, running across Daryl’s living room (“Akko, no!”) and into the (proper) Cavendish’s arms.

“I missed you todaaay!” The brunette whined.

The reaction was a bit excessive, even for Akko, and at Diana’s confused reaction Sucy had helpfully supplied that she was—“Still high as kite. Painkillers, or whatever.”

Akko pulled back, lip trembling. “You’re so pretty.”

“Th—Thank you. Goodness, your nose!”

“Lamppost.”

“I heard,” Diana said softly, hand coming up to cup Akko’s cheek. She had been so worried. She inspected the wound with such tenderness that she could hear Barbara swooning in the back.

“Ahem.”

Right.

“Aunt Daryl. Thank you for taking care of her.”

“No worries.” Daryl replied with a lilt in her voice, smirking. “I’ve grown rather fond of this one.”

The miracles of Akko’s charm, Diana supposed.

The next thing she noticed was Sucy glowering towards Hannah—and the flowers. Her eyes widened, suddenly remembering their car-chase, and that the entire point of the evening was supposed to be—

“Easy now.” Diana said carefully, intent on alleviating whatever tension remained. “At least we know Akko’s alright.”

---

Oh she’s pretty.

What the hell! She’s already in her arms but she’s so so pretty and Akko could just breathe in the smell of her hair and oh Diana is right here!

Never-mind Daryl, and Sucy, and Lotte, and Barbara, and Hannah—Hannah?

Akko blinked, looking towards the auburn-haired woman. Then she grinned. Flowers! The sight of the bouquet triggered what felt like a distant memory through the hazy fog of her mind:

Flowers. Lights. Confession.

Diana.

She gasped.

Akko then suddenly grabbed the bundle straight out of Hannah’s hands—faster than anyone thought she could move.

“Hey!”

But she didn’t care, she pulled on Diana’s arm, urging her to look back towards her—and oh the lights were so pretty in this house—it felt perfect, it really did, the only word that echoed in Akko’s addled mind was:

Confess!

“Diana.”

She said softly, as if in a moment of clarity. She shoved the flowers towards the blonde.

“I love you!”

---

I love you.

Diana’s jaw had dropped.

She said I love you.

All she could see was the blinding grin that Akko was shooting her way and really—really Akko? Right now? In this situation?

But she couldn’t believe that she was smiling back. Because she realized she didn’t care. Akko had just told her she loves her.

This entire day was a disaster.

But she loves her.

She loves her!

Diana wants to say she loves her back. Goodness, when did her mouth stop working? She settled for pulling her closer—keeping her steady, Akko was still a little out of it—but she couldn’t help it. Diana pulled Akko in, cupping her cheek and—and—

Diana kissed her.

It wasn’t easy—she had to do so gently to avoid disturbing the gauze and plaster on top of Akko’s broken nose.

But Akko’s eyes had fluttered to a close so prettily, and she actually kissed her back. They pulled apart—Diana was suddenly aware of the people and their surroundings—and Akko looked up to her. Smiling. Surprised. And then—

Between the blood-loss, being heavily drugged, and Diana kissing her?

Akko’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

fin

A/N: Every time I write something I realized I like to focus on singular, detailed moments that are slow and soft. Then I read this hilarious twitter thread about a guy who interviewed George Clooney despite rupturing his gall bladder who got high as kite on his pain killers, and then I throught "That's some big fucking Akko energy", and likewise decided, "what if I just wrote whatever the hell I wanted and get tripping" and here we are

Hope you enjoy this - this is something a bit different for me and I just sat down for like four hours straight and spweded this out, am i ok, LOL

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saybees · 3 years

Text

Ugh, my mother acts like a rich person, it drives me nuts.

She texted me a photo of her new microwave mounted above the stove and she said that now the stove looks ugly and she wants to get a new one.

It works. It works very well. It functions flawlessly aside from the little screen not showing the time anymore. It's the exact same stove we have in the house we are renting. It's older than me, but it works brilliantly.

I am SO tired of listening to my mother complain about this kind of thing. She's lucky that she has the money to be able to buy new appliances whenever she feels like it. She can repaint the whole house on a whim. My mother complains that they are always so tight for money, but they clearly aren't. They just don't always have the disposable income my mother wants so she can constantly be spending money on stuff she doesn't need to buy.

I have been poor for EVER. Even when I was living at home and I had my parents supporting me I didn't have an allowance or a job (lived out of town and didn't have a car) so I could never spend money. I was lucky to get a $100 bill from my grandmother when I graduated high school. That was a lot of money to me because I never had any. I had to rely on my parents for everything, which is fine, they provided me with what I needed and they did contribute quite a bit to my first couple tries at post-secondary education.

But I have been on my own for a long time now. I have always barely made enough money to get by with a little bit of spending here and there that I probably shouldn't have done, but did anyway because life is short and I want to enjoy things.

My mother was telling me once about how since her and my dad both retired they were only getting $[REDACTED] from my dad's investments and it wasn't enough for them to live off of each month. All I could think was HOLY SHIT because it was twice as much money as I had ever seen in a month and I could survive on it more or less fine. But that wasn't enough for my parents to sit at home doing nothing?? They don't have a mortgage anymore, that's been paid off for several years now. They both have newer vehicles that they got gently used. They have a new tractor my dad went out and got himself, real fancy. They really don't have much for expenses aside from hydro and car payments. Like it blows me away and it makes me so MAD that my mother acts like such a rich person and she can just go and spend that kind of money like it's no big deal while I'm struggling to pay for university that might get me nowhere, but I had to go and do it because I was going to have a complete mental breakdown if I stayed in retail any longer.

It just hurts, I guess, to see my mother living so frugally while I'm struggling. Even my little sister makes really good money at her job that she somehow stumbled into and I feel like such a loser because I'm the only one that's really struggling financially.

I feel like my mother put too much pressure on me to go to university and "make something" of myself. She always drilled it into me that she wanted me to be better off than she was and have what she didn't have, but so far I'm living in more poverty than she did. She pushed me to go to uni when I wasn't ready and I ended up wasting all my money and blowing through my small trust fund. I have nothing to show for it. My mother always put so much pressure on me and I have always felt like a failure.

It's just really hard. I don't want to be in the place that I am. Everyone else is doing much better than I am, but I'm the one that took risks and went out into the world. All it did was burn me.

And now that I'm in uni again I'm struggling through some of my classes and I'm probably going to fail at least one and have to redo it, which means paying another $1000 and spending another 4 months going through the same material. And that's only if I fail the one. I might fail another one yet.

Like my parents are by no means actual rich people. They're very middle class. It just bothers me that I have to work so hard to get nowhere and they have done so little and are so comfortable. I don't think I'll ever get to a place like that.

My sister struggled through grade school, but now she has a killer job that she makes fucking bank at. She bought herself a newer Jeep last year. While I have a 25 year old truck with 260,000 kms on it. Don't get me wrong, I love my truck, but if I had the money to spend on something newer I probably would.

My sister is also autistic, but that doesn't seem to affect her life at all anymore now that she's out of school and I'm here just now figuring out that I probably have autism and adhd and it's making my academic career a nightmare right now. I'm having such a hard time with everything right now because of that and I reached out for help and was completely shut down over it.

I just look at my life and the lives of my family members and I feel like I'm the only one that's ended up in such a crappy spot. Everyone else is so much better off than I am right now and it sucks. I know I shouldn't dwell on it and this is just some depressive episode triggered by a text of a microwave, which is really fucking stupid now that I put it into words, but I just feel so miserable. I feel like I'm stuck and I don't know how to get out. I thought university would help and change things, but so far it hasn't.

I just want to do the things that I love and be surrounded by people that I love, but that's such an impossibly distant goal at this point. I want more from life than this. I want to not have to worry about money anymore. I want to be free to do the things I want to do. I want a job that isn't going to drive me fucking bananas and pays well enough to fund my hobbies. Why does that seem so out of reach? Why can't life just be easier? It seems so easy for everyone else around me.

Money can't buy happiness, but it sure can solve a lot of the issues that cause me to be fucking sad.

#personal text #this turned into a breakdown oops #very long #if i had money id be the happiest motherfucker around #because i could just take photos all day and work in the darkroom whenever #and i could just cruise around in my truck looking for stuff to take photos of #that would be the cure to my depression #being able to just create and do the one thing i really love the most #like seriously if some rich dude that isn't a tumblr bot would be my sugar daddy i would legit take that opportunity #probably wont get my hands on any real money any other way #i wish i could sell prints of my photos and live off that revenue #i don't forsee that taking off though since i don't know how to market on social media #i also just really don't like social media at fucking all #anyone wanna buy some of my photos?#pretty please?#i should put together a gallery somewhere #i guess there's my instagram

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thequietsoliloquy · 4 years

Note

may i ask, how did you manage to become an apprentice seamstress and embroiderer? i just quit uni and i personally feel so lost in life right now.

Oh! I literally just teach myself XD It’s not apprentice in the “I am somebody’s apprentice and getting paid for it” sense of the term. In a way, I’m many people’s apprentice at the same time, following their instructions in Youtube videos or other platforms such as Skillshare, or through books and patterns instructions. There is always someone else’s voice I listen to and then try to do what they are teaching to eventually be good at what I do. The payment is my own satisfaction at learning something I’ve grown very fond of doing in the recent months.

All that said, I fully understand how you are feeling right now. I quit college once too, and I know the confusion that follows this decision. What I can tell you first is this: you are not a failure. You will find a way to live the life you have always wanted, even if it’s different from what you first intended, even if it’s different from what you might have felt was expected of you. You will be happy. Right now, you might not be, and it’s okay. Take the time to feel those feelings. You’re allowed to spend some time in bed binging Netflix and eating unhealthy food. I do hope you live in a place that does make you feel allowed to that too. If you are not, know that you are not alone and I’m here if you need someone to listen to you.

What I did that time I quit college is, after a few months of not knowing where to go, I started to look into trade/professional schools. I started classes in administration (secretarial work, basically) and I really enjoyed it! I had the misfortune of finding a job in the field before I was done and the job itself, at that specific place, was absolutely boring, but administration by itself can lead to a very comfortable life if this is what you are looking for, and there is a sense of accomplishment coming from it depending on the place you end up working at.

You can also find professional sewing classes in trade schools (I do not recommend necessarily to work in the field, the textile industry is not the best for trade workers, as I’ve heard, but it can be good for your own knowledge and making your own clothes can lead to some adventures that will make you want to get out of bed in the morning, and that is definitely an important thing to consider when figuring out what happens next). I don’t know if embroidery classes exist in those schools, but embroidery classes exist everywhere, and the Internet is usually a big place to look for that.

While you don’t know what to do, just look at your interests. What are you interested in doing right now? Drawing? Writing? Sewing? Cooking? Photography? Youtube videos? Take advantage of the tools you currently have and dive into it! And don’t stop even if you think you suck (you don’t, and you know why? Because you don’t suck at trying things and trying things means getting better every time you do, so even if doing the thing is not giving the result you wished for right away, keep working at it, a little bit every day, or every week at least, and you’ll be much much better in a year!). And, if after a few tries, you’re not as interested in the thing as you thought you were, it’s okay to stop and focus on other things that are still interesting to you. Sometimes, it’s the idea of an interest that is more interesting than the actual doing of the thing. Take your time to figure out which things you like to do the most, and do them. Make them a reason for you to wake up in the morning.

Feeling lost now means facing at once too many options, yet feeling like there are none. So, look carefully at the options you would like to see in front of you. If you want to study yet don’t want to go back to Uni, look at the trade schools options. If you need a job, you can look at those options too (even though I know there might be much less at the moment). But, first and foremost, lay down all the things you’re interested in. And I mean, everything. Skills to learn in every fields. Not things you think might be useful (those can be thought about after the interests bunch), things you actually want to do.

Think about those.

And then find your teachers. You might be able to find a teacher that will actually pay you for your training, making you a real apprentice of a trade, in the proper sense of the word. Regardless of if you find that payment or not, as long as you can afford it, look into your interests and follow them. You might still feel somewhat lost, but you’ll be going somewhere. And in a few months, in a year, you’ll know better where to go, whether it means continuing on that path, taking a turn at the next crossroad or jumping through the pathless forest to seek the path you remember running parallel from yours.

You just quit Uni but you didn’t quit life, and there is much, much more life to live after Uni is done, regardless of if you have that paper that says you finished it or not. Besides, quitting doesn’t mean never going back either. I quit once and now I’m back, learning something I actually want to do, that I’m actually interested in. It doesn’t mean you will want to go back, and that’s okay! If the road you’re on doesn’t have a Uni town on it, then so be it. You won’t be lesser for it, just like Uni doesn’t make you better. It’s not the building nor the paper that makes people good people. That makes people happy people. There are lots of reasons right now to not feel good nor happy. But if you can find a sliver of something that will make you feel happy, please grab onto it. As long as the thing that makes you happy is not hurtful to you nor to other people, please keep holding onto it.

It might take some more time before we can see actual good progress in the world, but you can make some good progress for yourself and the world will be better for it. So go on and focus on making your life a life worth living for. A life worth waking up for every morning. Or every afternoon, if you happen to be a night owl type of person. Just a life you want to wake up to and create stuff with. Create your own life. Start with what you want to see on your canvas.

I hope this helps, Anon! I said much more than you asked, and perhaps it was too much, or not helpful at all. But I do hope that, regardless of what I said, you will find some peace, if not in finding a path to follow, at least in appreciating the wandering while it is happening. *Big hugs* My askbox is always open if you need it!

#ask #anon #miralina replies #you can do it Anon #I believe in you!#Anonymous

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nate-santos · 4 years

Text

Exit, Persued by Bookwyrms || Nate & Skylar

Research gone wrong with @theskyeandsea

After his conversation with Remmy, Nate knew there was only one place he hadn’t turned over in his search for information. He had stopped in once or twice, but the Archive always freaked him out, so he never stayed long. Not to mention the fact that in order to buy any of their tomes, you usually had to give something important or strange in return, and Nate was terrified of finding anything they would consider proper payment. Of course this would be his last ditch effort when it came to figuring out zombie specifics, his last stop to find out if there truly was a way to live a “normal” life after the change. He paced back and forth outside the shop for close to 30 minutes before he finally entered, speed walking to the back of the store so as not to make eye contact with anyone. While his anxiety began to settle to a normal rate, Nate’s eyes scanned the shelves. “Zombies….Z….what was it Remmy called them….Draugr? Ok...Dr….” He pulled out a few volumes and began to flip through the worn pages, eyes scanning for any sort of useful information.

Bleh. Even after stopping in here once before, the Archive still gave Skylar the creeps. There was just something about the fact that it seemed like there were never any employees, that there was some weird kinda unspoken trade system in place, the general ambiance… Nope. Why wasn’t there a Barnes & Noble or something in town? Shaking her head, Skylar forced herself to focus as she glanced down the rows of shelves. Morgan had hinted that the Archive might have more supernatural texts than Skylar had initially thought, so… here she was. But, this time it wasn’t for her. Rem was going through a lot and, while she was going through her own issues, focusing on Remmy’s felt more manageable. It was productive in a way that she didn’t need to think about herself. As she walked down the shelves, Skylar rounded the corner and nearly ran into a man reading a book. Startled, she held her hands up apologetically, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you, my bad.” She said, shaking her head. Glancing at the books on the shelves behind him, she saw that she was in the right section. Zombies and other undead, neat.

Nate nearly jumped ten feet in the air when the stranger ran into him, one of the books slipping from his hand and toppling down to the ground. “Oh! No I’m sorry! If I’m gonna read I should really sit down- at a table! Like a normal person.” He laughed awkwardly, kneeling down to pick up the stray book, hoping he didn’t ruin it by tossing the old thing around like a child’s toy. Ordinarily, Nate was the kind of guy who kept all of his books in pristine condition, never liking to lend them out lest the borrower fold the pages down like a heathen. “Am I in your way? Do you need help finding something? Not that I work here, I definitely don’t, but-well...I can help! Unless you want me to leave you alone. That’s fine too.” He scratched absently at his arm, the anxiety making his skin crawl. “Sorry…”

Skylar winced apologetically at the way the poor man jumped-- oh dear. She really hadn’t meant to surprise him, it was just a little tricky for her to pick up other people’s presence in quiet places like this. “No, don’t even apologize, I’m the one who spooked you.” She said, her fingers fidgeting at her side, spelling out the word sorry in ASL just out of instinct. Scooting back out of his way to let him pick up the book, Skylar glanced at the books on the shelves for a moment. “Are you sure? You really don’t need to, like you said, you don’t work here. But, um, if you have any pointers on finding books here, I’d love the help. The organization system is a little weird.” She said with a wry laugh, hoping it would make him a little more at ease. The last thing she wanted was to make someone uncomfortable when they were just trying to shop for some books.

Nate grinned through clenched teeth. Even if it wasn’t necessarily his fault, the awkward had already set in and he was gonna have to roll with it. “Yeah! Really, I uh...don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I don’t mind at all!” His eyes flicked around the store and if he was being honest, having someone else around while he did his search might not be the worst thing in the world. This place really gave him the creeps. “Yeah, I uh...I don’t know that they super have much of an organizational system.” He shrugged, holding his books tightly to his chest. “So what is it you were looking for? Was it…” Nate glanced around at the section they were in. “Undead in nature?”

“Thanks so much, really.” Skylar said warmly, a smile on her face. “I’m Skylar, by the way. Have you been here before?” She asked, curious to know if he had much experience in the Archive. The one time she’d been in here with Remmy, she hadn’t found too much in the way of information, just bits and pieces. But, now that she was a little more focused in her efforts to find something that could make sense of their situation, she had more of a mission. “Um, yes! I’m looking for stuff on zombies, actually?” She said. Hopefully that didn’t sound as weird to him as it did to her. Nope, there was nothing weird at all about just… asking about zombies. Mmmmm. Maybe she should have tried beating around the bush a bit more. Oh well, what’s done was done.

Nate felt more at ease by the second, which was saying a lot considering he was in a sketchy book store that specialized in the supernatural, looking for information on zombies alongside a complete stranger. He sucked in a deep breath and smiled, nodding to himself. “Uh, twice. But uh...not for long.” Glancing around quickly to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in earshot. “I kinda...get the creeps? Being in here?” He shrugged, his fingers gripping the edge of his books. “It’s definitely less weird if we look together though, right?” He froze, his smile locked in place. “Z-zombies? Do you know someone- I mean…” Be casual. “Is it just out of curiosity?” He passed her one of the books in his hands. “‘Cause this one, uh...looks promising.”

Hearing that someone else found the Archive just as creepy as she did made Skylar feel just a little bit more relaxed. At least she wasn’t alone in her opinions. “Trust me, I get that. It’s not a super comfortable place to just… hang out in. Which is a shame, it seems like they have a lot of good books and information here.” She said with a nod. He hadn’t said his name, but Skylar supposed that was to be expected-- not everyone was super friendly with people they just met. “For sure.” She nodded with a smile. But, when the man handed her one of the books, she balked a little bit, “Huh? You don’t need to give me your book, really. But… were you looking into them too?”

Nate smiled, his lips pulling tight over the awkward expression. He didn’t need to be this weird, they were just two strangers, looking at books on zombies in a super creepy, probably haunted book shop. He took a quick breath, trying to force himself to be more normal. “It’s fine, I uh...looked through it already.” He shrugged, turning back towards the shelf full of potential answers. Last time he’d been in here he had barely made it to this section of the store, let alone made it far enough to grab a book and peruse it. “I’m uh...Nate, by the way. And yeah, they’re uh...super interesting, right?” He smiled over his shoulder, hoping she didn’t prod too much. He reached out, pulling another worn book off the shelf, opening it carefully. Its pages were old and weathered, yellowing at the edges. Dust even seemed to pour out of it as he flipped a page, noting that there were paragraphs just...missing. “Huh...that’s weird.” Maybe it was one of those niche writing styles, like if t s eliot wrote novels on the undead.

The strained smile he offered her elicited a twinge of pity-- he just looked so uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you, Nate. And thanks, really.” Skylar said with a bright smile, hoping that it would put him a bit more at ease. “Mhm, they are.” She nodded in a non committal way. She didn’t want to sound too interested in the subject, otherwise he might ask her why she was looking and then she’d have to lie and that would… just be a whole mess. Nope! Not happening. As Nate pulled out another book, Skylar flipped through her own and frowned. What..? Whole chunks were gone, some sentences even ended mid-word. “I bet it can’t be as weird as this.” She said, gesturing to the section she’d opened to. As she pointed to a section of the book, her finger brushed against the interior of the spine-- “Ouch!” She gasped, withdrawing her hand quickly. What the heck was that?

Nate stepped over toward Skylar before freezing in his tracks. Her book looked the same as his: incomplete. Like the printer was running out of ink mid sentence, sputtering out between words. What made his freeze, however, wasn’t the weirdness of the pages, but the girl’s yelp of pain. “Are- oh man...are you ok? Paper cut?” He hoped it was merely a paper cut. He leaned forward, not noticing the pages slipping out of his own book’s binding, fluttering down to the ground. Out of the small gap where the pages used to be attached to the ancient binding came a flood of tiny, wriggling...worms?? “OH NO-” Nate dropped the book and began slapping his arms, attempting to brush off any of the things that managed to climb onto him. “What the heck?!”

Skylar looked at her hand in confusion, and saw a few tiny worms clinging to her index finger. “What are these things-- ow!” She grimaced, scraping the worms away with the edge of the book. But, more of the wriggling worms came out of the binding and attempted to latch onto her arm. She dropped her own book on the ground and began to swipe at the worms. “I don’t-- they’re biting me!” Skylar squealed, doing her best to get them away from her. Backing up, she ran into the bookshelf behind her and felt biting on the back of her neck. More?! “What are these?” She asked, looking to Nate as she tried to squish the worms that clung to her.

Nate panicked. Lord only knew what kind of diseases these things might contract, or if they were somehow venomous. He mirrored Skylar’s attempts to fling the bugs off himself, crashing backwards into another case of books, sending them toppling to the ground. In any other circumstance, Nate would have been horrified at the amount of damage he was surely doing, but at the moment all he could think about were these minuscule creatures nipping at his flesh. “I don’t- I don’t know!!” He scrambled over to the girl and tried to help her swat the things away. “Do you- you don’t think we’ll get in trouble for ruining their books, do you?” Surely his priorities were a little out of whack at the moment.

Shaking her head, Skylar replied, “At this point, ow! I think we’re fine to--” Before she could finish speaking, a man came by the shelves, a strange covered bird cage in his hand. Judging from the outfit he was wearing and the little name card on his chest, he must have been an employee? Or maybe the owner? Skylar didn’t really have time to question it. “The bookwyrms are at it again... “ The man grumbled as he fiddled with the latch on the cage with thick fingers, shaking his head. “Excuse me? Sir?” Skylar asked, but he was either not paying attention to her or simply didn’t care. Instead, he uncovered the bird cage and revealed about half a dozen flying little… Tinkerbells? “Okay, you little shits. Take care of this mess-- and I don’t mean the customers.” The man grumbled before opening the cage. Glancing over at Nate, Skylar stared at him with wide eyes. Was he seeing this too?

Nate’s stomach dropped as the figure of authority rounded the corner, a less than pleased look on his face. “I’m so sorry, sir! We didn’t mean- the books- there’s something biting us-” But the man didn’t seem to care about his rambling apology. “Sir?” He looked over at Skylar, wondering if this was just how this weird store operated, but she seemed equally as confused, still swatting at the small creatures. His eyes followed her gaze until he focused on the...things in the cage that the man was holding. Instead of a bird, the cage seemed to house a bunch of flying...fairies?? “Uh- Sir?!?’ But the man paid no mind, releasing the winged things into the store where they immediately began to swarm around whatever had come out of the books. The downside being that a lot of those little buggers were now all over Skylar and himself. “C-crap!!” Nate screamed, swatting at both the flying creatures and the biting ones. “What do we do now??”

“What the--” Skylar grimaced as the strange creatures began to fly around, grabbing at the bugs that were biting into her skin and yanking them off. They were helping, kind of, but only in the most painful of ways. “Can you call them off? Please?!” She asked the man, but he was leaning against one of the bookshelves, thumbing through a magazine, the empty birdcage sitting on the ground next to him. Ugh. Looking over at the man next to her, she blinked. Who was he again? Whatever his name was, he seemed to be having an even worse time than she was, Skylar swallowed. This was a mistake, all of this was so dumb and stupid and why was she even here in the first place? Brushing off as many of the bugs off her as she could, she felt a fairy thing tangled up in her hair, yanking at more of the worm things. “Get off, get away! I, I think we should leave. We should go.” She said, holding out a hand to guide him out of the library.

Nate scrambled away from the flying creatures who seemed to be- yep. They were eating the bugs that were crawling out of the blank book pages. He wasn’t sure what the things were, but the shop owner seemed perfectly alright with just letting them create chaos around the store and nip and Skylar and himself in their quest. He frowned down at the book he’d been reading, trying to think of the name of that lost library in the desert, the one with all the information supposedly lost to time or looters or something. The blank pages reminded him of that, and he was sad for a moment. But then a flying fairy launched itself at his head, eliciting a nice and manly yelp before he took Skylar’s hand. “Gladly!” He propelled himself forward, mumbling out another apology for all the damage they’d caused, though admittedly not as much damage as the things he’d intentionally let loose. Speeding out the shop doors, Nate nearly crashed to his knees outside. “What- the heck-” he gasped, his hands still slapping away small worms from his arms and neck.

The two of them raced out of The Archive, the strange little creatures paying no attention to them once they ran out of the store. Skylar shook her head, shaking free some of the little worms that had latched onto the back of her neck, as well as the ones tangled in her hair. “Ugh, ew, ew, ew…” She grimaced as she rid herself of the last of the worms and started to stomp on them, squishing them into the pavement. Looking up at the man next to her, she gave an awkward grimace in his direction. “Are you okay? There were a lot of them on me, did you get bit too?” She asked, still trying to figure out what this guy’s name was. She could have sworn that he had just told it to her, but… why couldn’t she remember it? What was happening?

Nate’s skin was crawling as he pawed at every inch of skin he could reach. He was sure that even a scalding shower for 24 hours straight wouldn’t be enough to make him feel clean or safe. “Yeah-not...not too much I think…” He looked up at the girl with terror in his eyes. “You don’t think they like carry disease or anything, do you?? I know- I know there’s...that one kind of insect, they bite you and they give you….lemon disease? I- I think it’s a- I dunno…” He waved his hands in front of him as he searched for the word. “You know….that bitey thing?”

Tilting her head, Skylar couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man in front of her. Between his words and his body language, it was clear that the entire incident had shaken him up. Which… for any normal person who’d just been attacked by gross worms and then by… freaking evil tinkerbells? She could hardly blame him. Reaching out, she patted his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture-- hopefully physical contact wouldn’t make him freak out more. “Lyme disease? I think that’s something you can get from ticks in the woods? I think, I think we should be okay. Those weird bug things…” Her eyebrows scrunched together as she tried to figure out why she’d been in the bookstore to begin with, “They… which section were they in again? I’m sorry, I-- I can’t remember.”

Still feeling the ghosts of insects crawling over him but fairly certain it was in his head at this point, Nate began to calm down. He flinched a bit at the physical touch, but more so because he thought Skylar was about to swat away some book bug. He smiled awkwardly, wrapping his arms around himself as if that would create some sort of protective barrier. “Oh! Yeah! That’s what I was thinking of! Weird…” Nate’s brows wrinkled in confusion. He was sure he’d known the name of that disease. He shrugged to himself but cocked his head to the side. “You don’t remember what you were looking for?” Weird. Or was she just trying to get him to say what he was looking for? In a hushed voice, he leaned in. “Z-zombie aisle?”

Wracking her brains, Skylar struggled to think about what she’d been looking for. But, the second the man said the words, it came back to her. Zombies. Of course. She’d been in the Archive looking for information on zombies to see if there was anything she could do to help Rem. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly what I was looking for. How didn’t I remember that…” She muttered, confused. “And, hang on. Your name-- You just told me it, didn’t you? It’s, it’s something with a N? Noah..?” She said. No, that didn’t sound right, he didn’t really look like a Noah. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, stinging slightly from the small bite marks that dotted her skin. What was going on? Was she having some kind of… weird young person stroke? Or was she going insane? Of all the things to make her question her sanity, it wasn’t the awful worms or the pixies trying to smack them, it was the fact that she couldn’t remember this guy’s name. Wow. What was her life right now?

Nate nodded, his brows crumpling low over his eyes. Panic began to set in, wondering if she had forgotten his name or what she’d been looking for because of the mysterious bugs’ bites. Or maybe it was those literal flying fairies? Who the heck knew. Maybe she was just a forgetful person. “Nate-” he smiled lightly. “But you were close!” He glanced back at the store, a shiver running through him. “I uh...don’t think I’ll be coming back here anymore but…” Turning back to Skylar, he hugged his arms around himself a bit tighter, his voice dropping. “If uh...I find anything- on the undead stuff? I can definitely share it if you like?”

“Nate.” Skylar repeated. What the heck was going on? He’d literally just told her what his name was, hadn’t he? Eyebrows coming together in confusion, she nodded. “Sorry about that. I just, I couldn’t remember. I’m not usually like this, I swear. But, um. Yeah… I’m not going to be poking around the back shelves of this place anymore.” At least, she wouldn’t be doing it without someone who knew a little bit more about this whole thing. “Um. Yes! Yeah, that’d be really helpful, thanks! Here, let me give you my phone number.” She said, fishing a piece of paper out of her pocket before writing her number down. “And… I mean-- if you notice any other weird stuff. Like, like the tinkerbell things that were in there? Let me know?” She asked, tone hopeful. She didn’t want to be too nosy, but he hadn’t reacted with complete shock when the pixie things had swarmed him. Did that mean he knew about this magic stuff too? And if he did… then did he actually know about zombies..?

Nate smiled, hoping it came off as more reassuring than it felt. Everything about this felt off, except for Skylar. She at least seemed normal. “No worries, I’m sure it’s just the uh...dust or something in there.” He nodded to himself, hoping that maybe that really could explain it. “It’d be no problem at all.” He reached out, taking her number and placing it in his wallet. “Sure thing, it’s uh...not entirely uncommon to see this kind of thing. Usually I stay as far away from it as I can, but if I see anything I’ll let ya know.” Nate wasn’t sure why she would want to find more of those things, but maybe she knew more about them than he did. “It was nice meeting you, you know...in spite of all,” he gestured vaguely to the store behind them. “That.” Dusting himself off a bit more, he was already planning the 6 hour decontamination shower he’d be having after this.

Nodding at his words, Skylar stuck her hands in the pocket of her jacket to hide the way her fingers were fidgeted nervously. This entire thing had put her on edge and she honestly just needed to go home and lie down. Maybe that would help some. “Mmm, I really appreciate that, all the same.” She said with a smile. Wincing a little, she hummed in agreement. “No, I completely get that. See you around, Nate.” Skylar waved politely before turning around and walking quickly away from the Archive. A large cup of tea, a hot shower, and anything but a book sounded great right about now. And, hopefully with a little rest, he would be less shaken too. As she walked away, she shook her head. What the heck was this town?

#skylar1 #chatzy #wickedswriting

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bapyess1r · 4 years

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Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: cursing, substance, a bit of angst

Pairings: Sam Drake x OC

Author’s note: I started to write a thing.... I wanna see where it goes! Please tell me if you like it! I’m genuinely curious lol

Chapter 1

Sunny’s POV

I sighed, knocking on the hotel door as I adjusted the weekend bags over both my shoulders, hoping that Nathan fucking Drake hadn’t once again called for me just to do research. Or to break into or solve something… My best friend had a tendency to call and have me leave at the drop of a hat for something I could’ve done from my computer at home. Nate liked to call me “Brain” sometimes because I could solve most puzzles and mechanisms he got stumped on during jobs. Any time he had a robbery job, I was that voice in his ear telling him where to go and what to do. Lights out? I’d handle it. Bypass security? I got you. I even assisted on treasure hunts sometimes. I was good with hand to hand combat and weapons. And none of this was legal by any means but it was a job. Better than the one I currently have…

I shook the thoughts of doubt quickly as the door knob began to twist. I crossed my arms raising a thick bit shapely brow when he opened the door. “Sunny!” He exclaimed, embracing my teeny frame in his hefty arms. I returned the hug reluctantly, rolling my eyes and lazily patting him on the back.

“What do you want, Nate?” I asked tactlessly, my voice thick with a southern drawl.

“Oh, c’mon! You’re not still mad about-”

“Yes, I’m still mad about it, Nathan!” I exclaimed but he placed a few fingers over my mouth to shush me and hurried me inside the room.

“Shut up! People can hear you out there!” He said, closing the door behind me as I stared at him incredulously. Standing in the room was that sweet old man that I’d recognize anywhere. A smile crawled across my lips as I set down my bags by the couch and opened my arms to him.

“Sullivan, you son of bitch!” I laughed as we approached each other.

“Get over here, kid!” He said, ashing out his cigar and hugging me with a tight familial hug. “How are ya, Sunny?”

“Same ol’, same ol’. Jet’s got me workin’ the bar and waitressin’ now mostly. Way better than stage in my opinion. A couple of hecklers with wanderin’ hands now n’ then but…. nothin’ I can’t handle!” I smirked with a simple shrug. He huffed and shook his head.

“I do really wish you’d find somewhere else to work. It’s no place for a smart woman like you.” He told me, sitting back down at the table with a grunt.

“You n’ I both know why I can’t do that, Sully…” I said softly, looking into his blue eyes helplessly. He sighed, nodding.

“I know…” he said solemnly and I placed a consoling hand on his shoulder before noticing the man outside on their balcony, smoking a cigarette. Nathan approached me as he noticed my stare and leaned in.

“So… long story short…… that’s my brother…” he told me carefully and I gasped. I looked at him with my big brown eyes, covering my mouth.

“Get out- really?!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. He nodded. I shook my head in disbelief. “You had a brother?! This whole time and you never told me? Me?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, Elena doesn’t know either…” he spoke with a look of guilt as he looked down and played with the cuticles on his fingers. I gasped again and punched him in the arm. Hard.

“You haven’t even told your wife?! Nathan-” I began but he waved me off.

“Yeah, Yeah, I know: I’m a piece of shit.”

I scoffed. “So...what’s this all about?” I asked just as his brother had turned around. My stomach lurched as his eyes met with mine for a brief second and Nathan pulled me over to his room to explain.

“Did you bring the stuff?”

“Yeah I brought the stuff- now stop bullshittin’ and tell me what’s goin’ on! You got me all the way out here in Italy for why?!” I snapped beginning to lose my patience. And I didn’t have much. He explained to me the story of his brief time in a Panamanian jail and how he thought his brother had died years ago. My eyes widened with every detail and eventually I leaned against the dresser with my arms crossed; just trying to digest all that he told me. “So…. Rafe Adler, killed a guard and Sam got stuck doin’ the time while you got away? How’d he get out if they had it in for him so bad…”

“He escaped with his cellmate, Hector Alcázar, who’s some big mafia figure. He had arranged a jailbreak and wants half of our findings as payment for Sam’s freedom.” He said worriedly. I stared at a dirty spot in the shoddy carpeting and nodded my head, fidgeting with my fingers. This was indeed a lot to take in.

“And you need my help for this?” I asked.

“I didn’t know who else to call...” He said knitting his brows together. Obviously, I was going to help him. He was my best friend and I’d do anything for him. Helping him save his brother was the least I could do for all that he’d done for me in my life.

“Well first… I need a drink…and a cigarette…” was all I could come up with in response. I slipped by my best friend and went back to the common area, pulling a stick from the packet in my jacket pocket with my teeth, my bestie trailing at my heels. Sully and Nathan’s brother sat at the table holding a casual conversation, huddled over the table with their drinks as I entered the room, lighting the cigarette and placing my hands on my hips. They both looked at me as I sat down at the table and poured myself a drink. I looked directly at Sam, his hazel eyes widened as I gave him the meanest mug possible. “If Nate gets hurt by this… in any way other than a bruise or a scratch, so help me God, I will kill you before Alcázar gets the chance. Do I make myself clear… Samuel?” I said, pointing my burning cigarette at him, my eyes never wavering as I leaned into the table. He blinked at me and nodded as Nathan sat down to join us, maps, papers, and books in his hands.

“And she means it, boy…” Sully added cautiously.

“Crystal.” He responded simply, a Boston accent dripping from his lips.

“Fantastic. Now… what’s the plan?” I asked as the younger Drake placed everything on the table before us.

“I guess we’ll bring you up to speed.” Nathan said with a small smile.

After about an hour, I was caught up to everything going on and we planned our strategy to steal the St. Dismas cross from the Rossi Estate auction happening in three days. Everyone began to peel off to catch some shut eye, except the eldest Drake. He walked off to take a smoke break and I was inclined to join him after I’d finished my drink. I took a long hard look at him as I sat alone at the table. He was tall. But I was super short so everybody seemed y’all to me. His shoulders were broad, his chest and arms strapped tight with muscles. His thick brown locks were pushed back off of his face. I’d almost call him attractive if I weren’t so pissed at him for dragging Nathan into this. He seemed okay talking around the table but something just didn’t sit right with me. Like he was hiding something. ‘Imma figure out what eventually….’ I thought as I stood to have another cigarette. I walked over to the concreted railing to stand uncomfortably close to this brother without a word. It didn’t take long for him to attempt to break the awkward silence. “So how long have you known my little brother? Y’know what's your story?” He asked.

“I went to MIT. Graduated, life got hard afterwards and I ended up moving back to Texas doin’ office work. Which sucked.” I began and he let an amused chuckle escape his mouth before taking a quick drag. I smirked as I continued. “To spice things up, I kinda sorta maybe hacked into the company’s funds and…. I’m sure you can imagine how that shit turned out. I had to leave town; got a whole new identity, met Elena at a gym randomly. Then I met Nathan through her. We’ve been friends ever since. He calls on me for a few jobs and some assistance once in a while.”

“And what is it that you’re doing here? No offense, sister, but I told Nathan I don’t trust anybody on his contact list with my life and I don’t know you from a can of paint.”

“And I don’t know you. But I’ve known your brother for the better part of 15 years so I don’t think you have any rights in questioning my abilities because I don’t have to help you.” I fired back, crossing my arms as smoke exhaled from my nostrils. He raised a thick brow and chuckled.

“You got spunk, lady. I like it.” He put out his cigarette and adjusted his pants. My nostrils flared up as I took deep controlled breaths. I never met a man sassier than me but I guess I couldn’t say that anymore. “We’re doin’ recon in the morning. I suggest you get some sleep.” He smirked heading to his room and closing the door, leaving me with the couch.

“Dick…” I mumbled to myself as I tossed my cigarette over the balcony and started towards the couch. I landed on it wondering if I was supposed to be here. I found myself wondering that a lot lately. After every job, I always felt a sense of slight fulfillment. It never lasted long though. I was never satisfied and always looking for a job to do. If it weren’t for Nate, I’m sure I’d be in a helluva lot more trouble than where I was. It was that thought alone that made me feel like I was okay. I was going to give 110% to help him save his brother. Then we’d be even. I let myself drift off as the whiskey began to take effect, falling into a drunken, dreamless slumber.

Read More on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25472005

#uncharted 4 #sam drake #sam drake x reader smut #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted #uncharted smut #uncharted x reader #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake smut #sam drake x oc #samuel drake smut #samuel drake x oc #poc #rafe adler x oc #rafe adler #elena fisher #victor sullivan #nadine ross

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prorevenge · 5 years

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My former employer was stiffing me on money. While trying to get what he owed me, I kinda sorta ruined his marriage and probably his whole life.

OK, I don't know that this actually counts as "revenge", because I was honestly just trying to get money I was owed. I wasn't trying to drop a nuclear bomb on the guy's life in the process. That's what ended up happening, though. And I was told that my redditor brothers and sisters here might like this story, so here it is.

Some years back I ended up doing work for this guy I'll call Dick. It was just a side job for extra money, not my career or anything. Dick had a small business, it's boring, I won't get into any of that. Before me he had one other employee so I made two. Just two employees, that's how small a business it was.

The thing was, Dick ran his business like shit. I didn't know the specifics of his financial situation but based on where he lived, the car he drove, etc., he was doing pretty well. Maybe it was inheritance or whatever, I didn't know. But his situation clearly wasn't due to this business, which again, he ran like shit.

In fact, he ran the business like such utter shit that after about six months after I started doing work for him, the business wasn't making money anymore. So instead of regular payments like usual, the other employee and I had to start asking where our money was before it showed up. Then the payments started getting more and more behind. Eventually I was owed around $500.

Then one day the other employee tells me "I'm done. He owes me like 5 grand and I'm not going to keep working for nothing." I was like whoa shit, because I had no idea he was owed that much. The trouble with pay clearly went back farther than I knew.

So Dick ended up coming to me and said "Look, I owe the other guy money and I need to pay him. Do you mind if I get him all paid up, which means I gotta hold off on your pay for a month or two. But once he's paid off I swear I'll make it all up to you." Because I'm a fucking idiot, and because I felt bad about the first employee who was a good dude, I said fine go ahead.

So I didn't get paid at all for a while, which upped my total owed to about $1500. Then eventually I heard from the other employee and he told me Dick finally paid him everything he was owed. Great, I thought, now it's my turn.

LOL.

A few weeks after I heard the other employee was paid up (which I only ever heard from him, never from Dick) Dick told me he was closing the business. Which didn't shock me at all, surely it had been losing money for quite a while. I go "OK, so where's my money?" and I told him exactly how much he owed me. I got back "uh... well... the thing is... I can't pay you now, but...".

This went on for a YEAR. I looked into what my steps were legally but I'd have had to file something in small claims court and it's only $1500, and having to get a lawyer would probably eat up most of it. So I just kept bugging Dick about the money. I was like "Hey, pay me $25 month, I don't care." But he wouldn't even do that. He told me about how he's gotta go through all this stuff to dissolve the business and everything, and he'll pay me he as soon as he can, and overall he just avoided taking any responsibility.

At one point he said something about how people were currently suing him (big shock) and he'd get me in contact with his lawyers if I wanted so my debt could be added in or something. I said "Fine, give me their names/numbers." He never did.

Eventually I realized that nothing was ever going to come of this and I was just gonna be out the money I was owed. But while I'd been doing the work for him, I had e-mailed back and forth with his wife maybe a dozen times. To this day I've never met his wife, never even spoken with her. Just communicated through e-mail and text.

But she seemed really nice and she'd told me something like "Dick won't tell you this, but he doesn't really know what he's doing with this business and I know you've been a big help." So I just got the idea that, you know what, this next e-mail I send Dick about trying to get my money, I'm gonna include his wife on it too. So she knows how much he sucks.

I heard back from her almost right away and she was like "I'm so sorry about this, please keep me posted on what happens." Then suddenly, magically, Dick started talking about working out a payment schedule. He started sending me $100 every month and the debt got down to $1000. I figured his wife must have got on his ass about it and I laughed to myself about how whipped ol' Dick was.

But then the money stopped coming again. The excuses started coming again. One day he told me that he was just going through a hard time financially right now, which I knew was bullshit. He still had the nice car, the nice house, etc. But it's not like I had a printout of his bank records I could call him out on.

On that exact same day he told me that though, I was watching the local pro team's baseball game later that night and who did I see but Dick. In great seats no less, 2nd row right down in front, just off to the right. Every time they zoomed in on a right handed batter, you could clearly see him. And this was in September in the midst of a playoff race so those tickets were not cheap. It's no Perry Mason moment, but the thought of replying to his "I'm having financial trouble" e-mail with a picture of him in those seats and me being like "Yeah, I can see that pffft" gave me a raging justice boner.

So I was looking for a good image of him to use, but every time I paused the video his face got somewhat out of focus. It was clearly him if you watched the video but I needed a still image that was also clearly him. Then in the 7th inning a foul ball got caught about two rows behind him and they zoomed in on that area of the crowd. And there was Dick clear as day, sitting with his wife. I'm thinking aha, I got you now muthafucka.

The next morning I replied to his prior message by sending that screen capture to him. I figured even if I didn't get my money, at least I had that one sweet moment of satisfaction of busting him there.

Then almost at the last second I decided to send it to his wife too, just so she knew what was going on and how the money had stopped again. And remembering how quickly Dick's tune had changed that first time I'd included her, I even thought that maybe her being in the picture would make her light an even hotter fire under his ass this time.

So I sent it but I didn't hear anything back from either of them. Two, three days went by and nothing. Then I heard from the other employee I'd worked with. He goes "You hear about Dick?" I said no, what? "His wife kicked him out and filed for divorce." I'm like ho-ley fuck, no way. "Yeah, apparently she caught him cheating on her."

I thought "Huh, I wonder how... hmm. HMM. You know what would be crazy? What if that wasn't his wife in that picture... and I sent her that picture... and... LOL, no. No way. He was probably talking about the divorce when he mentioned having financial trouble. That would make sense. The divorce was already in the works before the picture. Yeah. There's literally no chance whatsoever that I inadvertently told his wife he was cheating on her. LOL, I mean, come on. Right?"

Nope, that was literally what had happened. The woman at the game with him? Not his wife. Apparently his wife knew the woman though, and knew that Dick had lied about where he was that night and who he was with. And a shit storm of epic proportions quickly followed.

I ended up e-mailing her not long after and being like "Um, hello there, I've been hearing some things and I can't help thinking that picture I sent might have been part of this?" And she said she'd been meaning to contact me, she thanked me, said she'd wanted out of the marriage anyway, and said she might need me as a witness. I didn't know what for, are divorces like trials?

But anyway, she paid me the $1000 he owed me, plus another $500 on top. I don't know if she thought he still owed me $1500 or if she purposely gave me extra. And I didn't have to be a witness for anything, which was good.

Also, Dick's nice car and nice house and all? His wife was the one with the money. Meaning that he no longer has it. They got divorced and he moved away and I have no idea what became of him.

Honestly, considering everything that happened, I feel kinda bad for him. But then I remember there's no reason he couldn't have just paid me. Seriously, why not just pay? He had the money. I just chalk it up to Dick having a lot of negative karma coming his way and I played a part in it catching up with him.

TL;DR: I sent my deadbeat ex-boss (and his wife) a picture of himself in great seats at a sports game to disprove his claim that he had financial problems and that's why he couldn't pay me. He was with a woman who was not his wife. His wife went APE, son.

(source) story by (/u/BartolosSweatSocks)

#prorevenge #by /u/BartolosSweatSocks #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Eighty-Two: A New Car ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: The World’s a Stage ] [ AO3 Link ]

What’s the fun of money if you never spend it? Now, granted...Sasuke’s made some rather questionable purchases over the course of his career. But this is one he can’t seem to bring himself to regret.

He’s always been a sucker for cars...especially fast ones. He’s been to a track a few times to drive the latest and greatest models in horsepower, hugging curves and speeding down straight stretches. There’s a rush to going that fast and feeling the earth fly by beneath him that gets his heart pounding like nothing else.

So, after some debating, he went and got himself a speedster of his own.

A rockstar has money to burn, after all...isn’t it typical to blow it on stuff like this? At least he’s avoided the really terrible ideas like drugs or sex. A car might come with its own set of risks, but...he can handle them.

His manager (who works double time as his brother) is a little exasperated at the purchase, but in the end it’s Sasuke’s decision. “Just...promise me you’ll be careful with it.”

“I’m not that stupid,” the younger sibling assures him with a grin. “Not about to turn myself into a smear on the pavement. The only place this baby’s gonna fly is on the track, Itachi. Calm down.”

That, and...well, they live a rather large city on the coast, with miles of open desert roads not too far from the city limits. A notorious straight stretch has been calling Sasuke’s name for months. And as willing as he typically is to keep his promises to his brother...this one thing he just can’t deny himself.

It’s a hot, dry day like most others. AC keeping the interior pleasantly cool, Sasuke casually makes his way out of town to the east. There’s light traffic, but after a few offshoots...he finds himself alone. Nothing but him, the car, and the open road.

A grin slowly grows across his face, hands on the gear shift and foot resting lightly against the pedal. Then, the pressure slowly grows, shifting each time the engine reaches a new peak. Speed gathers seemingly exponentially until he’s practically flying down the roadway. A lightness overtakes his chest, and he feels a kind of freedom that - as of late - has seemed all but lost.

...that is...until he sees something on the horizon.

Fearing it may be a cop, Sasuke’s snapped from his euphoria, and quickly (but safely) begins to slow down. The closer he gets, the more it looks like a car pulled to the side of the road. Why a cop would be randomly stinging this far down the road seems...odd. Unless it’s to catch fools like himself looking to fly without wings.

But...no. That’s not a cop car. A little SUV tilts slightly down into the surrounding desert, clearly pulled over for a reason, flashers going and looking altogether in distress.

...this isn’t good. They’re miles and miles from town by now. Weighing his options - it could be some kind of trap - Sasuke slows and pulls up alongside the vehicle.

The driver’s side door is open, and from it, sitting sideways in her seat, a young woman is clearly just...waiting. Her head lifts in surprise as he stops, eyes flickering just as suspiciously.

Sasuke rolls down the passenger window. “You, uh...okay?”

For a moment she doesn’t answer, obviously not eager to talk to a stranger. “...it just, um...gave out on me,” is her eventual reply.

“Somebody coming to tow it?”

“Yeah, but...they said they won’t be here for another hour…”

“What?! That’s nuts! You’re gonna bake alive out here, it’s like 105!”

Her lips settle into a grim line. “Yeah, it’s...not fun.”

“Is no one able to come pick you up?”

“Everyone I know is either at work or...out of town.”

“Well, shit. You need a ride?”

“...um…” The wary look returns.

“I know you don’t know me, but uh…” He gestures vaguely, not wanting to pull this card, but… “I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Ever heard of me?”

“Uh...no?”

“I’m a singer. One of those Hollywood assholes. But I swear I’m not the kidnapping people sort of asshole. I just don’t want you stuck out here with no air. That’s torture. Look...you got cell signal?”

“...yeah…?”

“Text someone you know, tell them what’s up. Hell, take a pic with me to prove it. That way if anything happens, someone’ll know, and they can come arrest my ass. But seriously...I just wanna help. You look miserable, and I’ve got a fast, cool ride back into town. Take you wherever you need to go. Scout’s honor.”

She still looks skeptical, but...after thinking over his suggestion, she replies, “...okay.” A bit sheepishly, she gets out of her car, Sasuke parking his in front. Opening a text, she does as suggested, taking a picture with him and sending a brief message.

“Lemme call my brother, too - he can probably help sort things out with your car.”

“Oh, wait - that’s not -?”

“This kinda thing sucks. And I’ve got the means to make it a little easier,” Sasuke insists, cutting off her refusal and dialing the proper number. “Not to be an asshole, but it won’t be a big dent for me. I dunno your situation, but a little help never hurts, right?”

“Why are you...doing this?”

“Why not? You’re in a pinch, I can step in...why wouldn’t I? If I was a jerk, I’d have just waved on my way by. But I’m not. My mama taught me better. Hey, Itachi? Need you to do me a solid. I’ve got a lady here, her car’s broke down, needs a tow…” He moves his phone aside. “Who’s towing it?”

“Um...I think the company is called...Geiger?”

“Geiger. Yeah. We’re probably...I dunno, thirty miles east? Wasn’t paying attention. Yeah, they said it’d be an hour. I say bullshit. I’ll cover it, yeah.” He lifts a hand to cut off her insistence otherwise. “...mhm. Okay, cool. Whatever the shops asks, too. I’ll bring her in so she can get all the paperwork out of the way. Just let them know we’re on our way, I’ll handle the rest. Yup. You’re the best, big bro.” Grinning cheekily against the screen, Sasuke then hangs up. “All right, he’s gonna get everything arranged, so all we gotta do is get you to the shop they’re hauling it to.”

“...you really don’t have to do all this…”

“Consider it karma. I just got a new car. Yours is throwing a fit. It’s only fair. And like I said, I wanna help. My mom’d tan my hide if she heard I did anything less. Which...reminds me, what’s your name?”

“...Hinata.”

“Already said it, but I’m Sasuke. Nice to meet you, circumstances aside. Now, let’s get you back into town. It’ll probably still be a while before they get here and haul your rig back to town, so...anything you want or need to do before we get to the shop?”

“Um...no...the ride is p-plenty, thank you.”

“All right.” Slipping back into his car, he waits for Hinata to do the same.

“Wow, this is...really fancy.”

“My latest self indulgence. I was clearing out her engine when I stumbled upon you.”

“I take it it’s fast…?”

“Hoo, yeah. But uh...we’ll be sticking to the speed limit now that I’ve got a passenger,” Sasuke assures her with a smirk. Turning the car around, he heads back toward town at a much saner pace than he left it. “So...any particular smalltalk you want to try? Or should I just turn on the radio? Or better yet, I could put on my own music and be a real narcissist.”

That earns a soft snort. “Um...I’m good with smalltalk.”

“Cool. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a florist.”

“Really? My mom really loves flowers. I’ll have to give her your number. She throws a lot of charity events and I bet she’d hire you on to decorate. Do you do that kinda stuff?”

“I...yeah! Though I’ve never done something that...big. Mostly like...small time weddings, or custom bouquets.”

“Gotcha.”

“So...you’re really a famous rockstar?”

“I’m a decent enough name, yeah. I’m a little wounded you’ve never heard of me.”

“Sorry...rock’s not really my genre. Maybe my friend Kiba knows you?”

“If he does, be sure to rub it in his face you met me”

“That’s so mean!” Hinata laughs.

“Tell you what, I’ll sign something for you. If he does know me, it’ll be a consolation prize.”

They chat idly for the next half an hour, getting into town and Sasuke pulling up his GPS to find the right shop. But before they get there, he pulls into a Starbucks drive-thru.

“Want anything?”

“W-what?”

“Don’t want you being dehydrated, right?”

Appearing a bit sheepish, she mumbles, “Um...maybe an iced cinnamon dolce latte…?”

“You got it.” Ordering hers and a plain iced coffee for himself, Sasuke hands her the drink once they’re through. “Get you a little energy and some liquid, huh? Okay, now we can head to the shop. Unless you’re hungry?”

“...are you trying to bribe me?”

“Maybe a teeny bit.”

Hinata has to fight a smile. “No, thank you...this is fine.”

“Suit yourself.” Following the route, he pulls into the lot, and...pauses. That’s...Itachi’s car. “...uh oh.”

“What?”

“Seems big bro decided to do this in person. That’s a little...odd.” Parking, Sasuke gets out just in time to see Itachi emerge. “What an honor.”

“I figured it would be best to make a more...personal impression,” Itachi assures him. “So, this must be miss Hyūga?”

“Yes, sir...your brother really saved my bacon.”

“Funny, I didn’t know he had any reason to head out that far,” Itachi replies, tone suggesting he knows exactly why Sasuke was out there. “...but I’m glad he was there to help. I’ve already arranged any and all payments, so you should be all set to go. They’ll just need you to fill out all the rest of the paperwork, including your insurance information.”

“...I...really don’t know what to say, I…” Hinata wilts a bit in disbelief. “...this is really, really kind. You don’t have to…?”

“Once I set my mind to something, I don’t change it,” Sasuke assures her.

“It’s true. Makes him a nightmare to manage, but someone has to do it,” Itachi adds with a coy smile. “And should you need anything else, don’t hesitate.” He hands her a business card, which she sheepishly takes.

“...thank you. Really, I don’t have any words. This is...huge.”

“Glad to lend a hand. And uh…” Gesturing, Sasuke takes the card back, scribbling his cell number on the rear. “Just for posterity’s sake. Or if you get bored.”

Hinata goes pink in embarrassment, but doesn’t refute it.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me...I’m afraid I have to be going,” Itachi then announces. “And Sasuke, you’ve got that recording session this afternoon - best to leave soon or you’ll be late.”

“Yes, Mom,” Sasuke replies, earning a small giggle from Hinata. “...well, hope things turn out okay with your rig.”

“Yeah, me too...thank you again. I s-sound like a broken record, but...really. You have no idea how much this means.”

“No thanks necessary. But maybe we’ll get coffee again sometime and call it square, huh?”

Hinata blinks...and then slowly goes pink again. Did he just…?

Grinning, he gives her a mock salute before getting into his car, waiting to make sure she makes it inside all right before pulling out and starting to head toward the studio. Sipping his coffee, he subtly nods to himself. A pretty good day, all things considered.

But something tells him he’ll have to endure an Itachi lecture later about his driving...

.oOo.

Disclaimer: I know...literally nothing about cars xD They don't interest me in the slightest (and tbh they kinda scare me lol), so uh...if anything about this is wrong or too vague...blame that, haha! Anywho, a bit of a rockstar AU! Which I think I've had other snippets in, but...nothing actually tied together. This one, at least, is 100% standalone. Sasuke's one of those good guy rockers! His only vice is fast cars...and being a bit of a narcissist x3 But that's okay, we can forgive him for that. Look at all the good he just did! Also that smooth setup for a possible coffee date later ;3 Aaanyway, it's v late, and I'm pooped, and I've got a birthday thing to go to tomorrow, so I'd best sign off! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha itachi #the world's a stage [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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