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topguncortez · 3 days

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Slap Shot || Chapter 2

A Top Gun Hockey AU

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synopsis: Jake heads to his last game before his suspension and hears the speculated news right from the source. Sonny attends her first Dagger hockey game since getting the job.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: grief, mentions of sexism, injuries, losing a parent, locker room talk, hockey inaccuracies, mentions of cheating, workplace harassment, use of the word "puck bunny", mentions of sex

note: I have a graduation/summer celebration going on! help me get back into the writing groove by requesting something or sending in an ask!

There was something about the electricity in the air on game day. The anticipation, the anxiety, the stress, the crowds lining the block hours before the puck drops. It was all things that Jake had grown to love ever since he got up to the big leagues. He could remember the day of his first NHL game, there was a lot riding on his shoulders as the first round draft pick to a team that hadn’t even had a playoff berth in the new century. The line of fans was around the building and down the block, fangirls screaming and pointing at Jake’s truck as he pulled up to North Island Arena, or the Hard Deck, as some fans called it.

And even years later, the excitement was still there. The crowds were still around the building and down the block. And the fangirls still screamed and pointed at his truck as he pulled into the underground garage at the Hard Deck. Jake parked his truck in the same spot, right next to defenseman Bradley Bradshaw’s shiny blue bronco.

Jake straightened out his gray suit, a custom made gift from one of the various sponsors he had gained over the years. Aside from being one of the best hockey players, Jake Seresin was also the “pretty boy” of the NHL. And he wore that title with a badge of honor.

Making his way inside the Hard Deck, he sent a wink to the young social media intern who was in charge of filming the players as they walked inside. He couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered that one trick she could do with her tongue that had his head spinning.

“Looking good. . .” He nodded towards her, and watched as she nearly fainted from his acknowledgement.

The locker room was practically empty as Jake walked to his locker, stripping from his suit, and changing into his warm up clothes. He liked to be the first one to the arena, he liked to sit in the quiet locker room, and go over his plays in his head before it was filled with the sounds of his teammates getting ready for their game. Jake wouldn’t say he was superstitious and had precious pre-game rituals, but he had some things he liked to do before every game.

“Thought you weren’t playing,” A voice broke him out of his trance. He lifted his head to see his teammate, Michael Hendersob, standing in the doorway. His suit had long been shucked off, a pair of black shorts and a blue North Island sweatshirt on his body.

“Last game for a while,” Jake gave him a half smile, “Apparently, fighting your teammates is frowned upon.”

“So is sleeping with the coach’s wife.”

Jake scoffed, looking down at his feet, “I didn’t sleep with her. If anything, she threw herself at me. What was I supposed to do?”

Henderson rolled his eyes, grabbing some tape to work on his sticks for the game, “I don’t know man, walk away? Say no thanks?”

“I can’t leave a wanting lady unsatisfied,” Jake smirked and Henderson huffed. It was quiet for a moment, as Jake looked at the stick in his lap, before he spoke up, “Rumor mill says you signed for an apartment in the Villages.”

Henderson chuckled, “Yeah, a beautiful three bedroom ranch style, right on the beach. Thinking I should get a golf cart and some of those colored loofahs, maybe even a pineapple on the front door.”

“Oh I bet Liv would love that.”

If there was one woman who could make the whole North Island Daggers Hockey Team shudder in fear, it was Liv Henderson. The woman was the definition of the perfect WAG: beautiful, smart, classy, helpful, and strong willed. Liv had opened up her house, having most of the team dinners on Sundays when they could. Liv always joked that she wasn’t just raising three boys, she was raising 26 boys (including her own husband). Jake always jokes around that one day he was going to steal Liv away, but never in a million years would he think of doing that. He saw the way Henderson looked at the girl who was his highschool sweetheart. It made him ache for something like that.

“She’d have my balls in a jar,” Henderson shook his head, both men knowing it was probably true, “But it’s time, man. I’m getting past my prime. I can’t keep up with you young bucks out there on the ice. Besides. . . after everything that happened across the pond. . . I know it was a freak accident, but it scared me. I can’t imagine my wife, my kids, hell, the fans and my team seeing that.”

Jake nodded, knowing exactly what he was alluding to. The freak accident of two players on the ice, leading to one tragically losing their life. When news of the accident traveled, it made Jake feel sick to his stomach. Hockey was a dangerous sport. He’s seen guys skate off holding their teeth in their hands, or clutching their broken noses. Never, in a million years, would he imagine a team would have to hold their friend up as they took him off the ice.

“I plan to be here to watch them grow up, and not spend it trying to fix my scrambled brain,” Henderson spoke, breaking the tension, “Bad enough I got three fake teeth. Liv would come after me if I lost another.”

“It’ll be weird without you,” Jake looked at him.

For as long as Jake has been a fan of hockey, Michael Henderson has been playing. Jake could remember being a kid, going with the U12 USA team to a North Island versus the Flyers game, and waiting down by the tunnel to get his jersey signed by Michael. To be drafted to the same team as him is like a dream come true for Jake. What would’ve made it better is having Russ Hamilton as their coach. Jake knew there would come a day where Henderson would hang up the skates, he just didn’t think it would be this soon.

“You’ll get over it,” Henderson nudged him, and Jake scoffed, “You will. You’ll be sitting in this locker room a year from now and be like ‘damn, I'm sure glad that grandpa is gone’.”

“Never,” Jake feigned hurt, “You are my baby!”

“You’re fucking weird,” Henderson shook his head in laughter, and then cleared his throat, “You know. . . They asked me if I had a recommendation for a captain.” Jake felt his heartbeat pick up in speed, “The first name that came to my mind was yours. And I wanted to say your name so bad. . . but I couldn’t.”

“Why?” Jake felt a mix of anger and sadness that the man he considered one of his close friends and mentors wouldn’t have suggested him for the spot.

“Cause you’re not there yet,” Henderson said, honesty dripping in his voice. If there was one person on the team any of the guys could be honest with, it was Michael Henderson. Man was like a vault, harboring secrets of his teammates, “We all know you are the right man for the job. But you have to prove it. Being a captain is more than just having the skills and the stats. It’s what happens off the ice.”

“Look,” Henderson ran a hand through his hair, “I was your age when I was faced with either getting captain or getting kicked off. Liv and I had broken up and I just. . . I got sucked into the life of being a hockey player. As a captain, you have so many eyes on you. Not just from the coaches and the GMs. . . but the fans, the sports announcers, the kids. . . Being a captain isn’t just about what happens on the ice, it’s also about what happens off the ice,” Henderson sat down next Jake, “You are the man for the position. But you need to get your shit together. Or they’ll pick someone else and you’ll be sent somewhere else.”

Jake looked at his teammate, soaking in every word that he said. Even though there was only a 10 year difference between him and Henderson, he felt like there was more. Henderson spoke to Jake like an encouraging father, one that he wished and envied that his boys had.

“Thanks Hendo,” Jake said sincerely.

“Of course,” Henderson smiled, “Now, do me a favor. . . Keep the retirement village stuff a secret. Liv still hasn’t picked out the house she wants yet.”

Jake chuckled, slapping his captain’s shoulder, “Secrets safe with me.”

— — —

One part of pre-game that Jake hated, was warming up on the ice in front of fans. Some guys loved it, taking time to smile and pose for pictures and toss pucks over the glass. Jake hated it because it distracted him. The bright signs, the fans pounding on the glass, the blasting music and lights flashing around. Jake just wanted to put his headphones on and ignore the social media girl who held her work phone right in front of his face as he stretched out on the ice. He just knew that his friends and family are going to bombard him with links to the latest thirst trap of him stretching.

The guys skated around on the ice, passing pucks to one another and serving them to Bob Floyd, their goalie. When Bob first joined the team, Jake didn’t think he had what it took to be an NHL goalie. He was scrawny, and lanky, and looked like he weighed less than his pads. But after he had a game winning save against the Devils and nearly started a fight himself, Jake was suddenly Team Bob Floyd.

Jake quietly ran through the roster of the guys, checking them off one by one as they skated by, noticing that one was still missing. Jake was about to shout at Henderson asking where Holloway was, when the player in question skated out on the ice, a bubble now attached to his helmet. A prominent cut was still across his nose as bruising grew under his eye sockets. Jake couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips as Holloway skated right by him.

“Something funny, Seresin?” Holloway asked.

Jake just shrugged, “Oh nothing, bubble boy,” He stood from where he was kneeling on the ice, “Maybe next time. . . start a fight you can win.”

Holloway glared daggers into Jake’s back as he skated over to a bunch of awaiting blondes hoping for a chance to get a puck from the star player.

— — —

There was a chill in the arena as you walked through the door, being escorted by some intern to the box that Pete and Tom had invited you to. You knew this stadium like the back of your hand, and would have found your way to the box that was named in honor of your father by yourself. Even though your father didn’t spend a lot of time on the Daggers team, he still considered the organization as his family. He told you once that he truly never felt a connection to a team or an area like he did for North Island. It brought a smile to your face as the intern pushed open the door to the box with red letters painted on the frosted glass reading “The Hamilton Box”.

You walked right towards the edge of the box, looking out over the ice as both teams warmed up, skating in circles around each other. The last time you had been in this position, your father was standing next to you, pointing out certain players to keep an eye on and rattling off their stats as if it had been ingrained in his mind, which knowing him. . . it probably was. A strange feeling grew in your belly, it was a mixture of sadness and anger. Sadness that he wasn’t here next to you and anger that cancer had taken him way before his time.

“You miss it?” Tom asked, startling you from your trance of watching the players.

A sheepish smile grew on your face as you looked back at the ice. Only a handful of people knew the truth as to why you walked away from hockey, and Tom was one of those, “Every damn day.”

Tom gave you a warm smile, the type of smile only a dad could give to their child as he slung his arm over your shoulders, “Your dad always spoke so highly of you. Told us you were going to give us a run for our money some day.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered those days where you’d spend hours upon hours at the arena with your dad. Running drills until your body physically couldn’t anymore. Your dad never pushed you hard, it was always something you did on your own and your dad was just a grateful volunteer to be there. Those days seemed like a whole other life compared to what you were living now.

“I haven’t been on the ice like that in years,” You shook your head, looking down at your heels. You could’ve just worn jeans and some sneakers like you would usually wear, but you were still trying to impress your new employer, so dress pants, a deep blue dress shirt and black heels it was, “It wouldn’t even feel the same anymore. Not because of the injury. . . because he’s not here.”

Tom squeezed your shoulders, “You’d be surprised. I gave it up for years and thought the same thing. But sometimes, it feels better than it used to feel.”

You nodded your head as Tom walked over to a group of donors, working the crowd just like you remember him doing. Tom was always the face of the Daggers, your dad always poking fun of him for it. Tom always got the glory while your dad was doing all the guts. You shook your head laughing, looking back towards the ice, rolling your eyes as one of the players stood off to the side, flirting with a group of females.

It seemed as soon as the puck dropped, the Coyotes had already won the game. The Coyotes came in hot, and the Daggers were ice cold as they kept getting out played and out skated. No one seemed to be communicating on the team, simple plays falling apart and dumb goals getting passed Bob. The anger grew in Jake’s body as he got slammed into the boards for probably the 100th time in a row, and it was only the 2nd period. Jake usually thrived when he was behind the net, but his usual tactics were falling apart and he felt like Holloway was leaving him defenseless and open for being used as a punching bag.

Jake shook his head, a loud groan leaving his gritted teeth as he skated out from behind the net, going right up to Holloway, “You just going to sit there with your thumb in your ass and not do anything!?”

Holloway just shrugged, “You seemed like you had it,” If looks could kill, Holloway would be dead as he skated over the blue line.

Jake’s eyes move around the ice, watching the puck as Bradley stole it away from a Coyote player, passing it over to Holloway. Instead of skating back to the net, to get set up for a goal or assist, Jake skated right at Holloway, checking him, sending his teammate flying towards the ground. Jake was quick to juggle the puck before lining up to make a perfect slapshot, sending it soaring past the Coyote goalie. The arena erupted in cheers as the buzzer sounded. Jake smirked as he skated past Holloway, who was getting up from the ice.

“The fuck was that!?” Holloway yelled.

“I had it,” Jake winked. The small movement being broadcasted on the jumbotron for everyone to see, making the crowd go even wilder.

The Hamilton Box erupted in cheers as people high-fived and clinked their drinks together at finally getting on the scoreboard. You could hear Tom’s loud cheering as he pointed down to the ice, the players getting ready for the game to get back and action. You rolled your eyes, all the goal did was put the team on the scoreboard, they were still getting beat 4-1. Your eyes landed on the jumbotron hanging above the center of the ice, the goal and Jake Seresin’s wink to his teammate were being replayed over and over, making your blood heat up. If there was one thing you hated, it was show-offs.

“Not a fan?” Pete asked, noticing the look on your face.

“Not a fan?” You asked, eyebrow raised, and nodded your head towards the replay still being shown, “Not a fan is an understatement.”

Tom had walked over to the two, a glass of champagne in his hand, “It was a good play.”

“That?” You scoffed, “That was bullshit. He bodychecked his own teammate to make a goal, and for what? To make ESPN’s “play of the week”,” You mocked, looking back at the ice just as Jake got shoved up against the boards. . . again, “Hockey is a team sport. You’re only going to be good if you work together. That little display of. . . whatever the fuck, isn’t how you win a cup. If Jake Seresin wanted to play by himself, he should try golf.”

You turned your body as Tom and Pete shared a look, “What?”

A smile broke across Pete’s face, “Nothing. . . you just sound like your dad.”

You tried to keep up your facade, but it slowly faded as your ears turned pink and a smile threatened to arise on your face. You cleared your throat and turned back to the game, stomping your heel for extra drama. Both men chuckled softly, before following suit and watching the second period get under way.

— — —

They should’ve won.

They should’ve fucking won.

The Coyotes were supposed to be an easy, breezy team to play before the Daggers hit the road for 2 weeks. But apparently, the Coyotes had gotten good overnight. . . or the Daggers underestimated them.

The moment the final buzzer went off, Jake was pissed. A final score of 6-2 in bright block letters dancing around the jumbotron as Jake skated off the ice towards the locker room, not stopping to acknowledge fans or his coaches. Everyone knew better than to stand in the way of Jake Seresin and the locker room after a brutal loss. The second the door closed behind him, he was breaking his stick against the ground with a loud yell.

“You’re lucky Bauer endorses you,” Bradley mumbled as he walked in after Jake, kicking the pieces of splintered plastic.

“Shut up, Bradshaw,” Jake muttered, throwing the remaining stick off towards the side. He sat down on the bench with a groan, immediately going to undo his skates, “That was fucking stupid.”

“We got outplayed,” Bradley shrugged, “What can we do?”

“Don't get outplayed.”

Bradley couldn’t even respond as Jake was already shucking off his uniform and pads, before grabbing his towel and heading to the showers. On the nights where they lost, Jake was the first one out of the locker room, doing all that was humanly possible to avoid talking to the press. Tonight, he seemed to be wanting to move even quicker, knowing that the press was going to ask him about the bodycheck he delivered to Holloway and how he felt about his upcoming suspension.

Jake showered quickly, washing the hotspots of his body, knowing that he would take a more in depth shower at home. Or maybe he’d take a bath. There was nothing Jake loved more than his clawfoot bathtub, it was the selling point for Jake when he was house hunting. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Jake stepped out into the locker room, which was fuller with his team mates all stripping off their uniforms and equipment. A cloud of tension was thick in the air as no one hardly said anything. What was there to say?

They should’ve fucking won.

“Seresin,” Coach Simpson said as he walked into the locker room. Jake’s back tensed, his breathing deep, “We need to talk.”

Jake took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before reaching for his deodorant, “Not now.”

“Yes,” Simpson grumbled, “Now.”

Jake turned around, “No.” Simpson’s jaw clenched as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Excuse me?”

Jake clenched his jaw, “Not tonight, alright, Coach? I played like shit. We all played like shit. My body hurts. I’m tired. And quite frankly, I think I am the last person that should be talking to the press tonight,” Jake turned back to his locker, grabbing his sweatpants. With not an ounce of shame in his body, he turned back around to his coach, and dropped his towel. Simpson quickly looked away, annoyance even more evident on his face.

“Fine,” Simpson grunted, “Get your shit and get out.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Jake smirked, slipping on his sweatpants and chucking all of his stuff into his duffle bag, “See you in two weeks.”

“Actually. . .” Simpson licked his lips, as if the next words were going to pain him, “You will be joining us in Edmonton. Won’t be playing, but you’ll be there.”

“Perfect. . . guessing they didn’t want me and Emma alone in the same place.” Before Simpson could yell at him Jake walked out of the locker room.

Although his mood had lifted slightly, the moment he was in his truck, and turned on the Paul Marquez Show, his anger returned.

“Going out West, we had the Coyotes and Daggers. . . and man did those Coyotes chew them up and spit them out,” Paul’s voice sounded out over the speakers as Jake put the truck in drive. He knew it was stupid to listen to sports analysts who hated him after playing probably the worst game of the season. But Jake was a sucker for pain, “Jake Seresin scored both of North Island’s goals for the night getting them on the scoreboard but it wasn’t enough.”

“Oh it was enough,” The voice of Denny Lester filled the cab of the truck, “Hitting your already injured teammate. . . an injury that you caused, is certainly a new one.”

“Seresin’s time in the penalty box was certainly lower than it was during last week's game stretch against the Devils,” Paul Marquez’s voice sounded through the speaker again, “Could this mean that the Dagger bad boy is turning a new leaf?” Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes towards his sunroof, “Or could it mean that the trade deadline is fast approaching, and Seresin’s title could be on the line.

Jake quickly turned off the radio, not wanting to hear the analysis on the encroaching trade deadline. He had the date circled on his calendar in bright red marker, and hung it on his fridge. Jake always believed the trade deadline came at the worst part of the season. Teams had been playing together for months, most had players returning from All-Star Weekend, the end of the season was winding down and the playoff teams started to become clearer. Trades could either make or break a team. Even if you were one of the benchwarmers that got traded, it was still a hit to the team.

If you would’ve asked Jake last season if he was worried about the trade deadline, he would’ve laughed in your face and told you that you were stupid for even asking that question. But this season was different. He was different. Jake hated to say that the years of getting rammed into the boards were starting to catch up to him. . . but those years of getting rammed into the boards were starting to catch up to him.

Jake pulled into the underground garage of his apartment building, turning his truck off and grabbing his duffle and suit bag from the car. His shoes squeaked against the marble of his luxury apartment building, as he nodded his head towards his doorman and the elevator attendant. Yeah, he lived in one of those buildings. When he first got to the daggers as an 18 year old, he had splurged most of his first NHL check on getting all the things he imagined, including the luxury penthouse on the 15th floor of the “Hamilton Building '' named after nonother than his hockey idol.

The elevator dinged and opened right into Jake's living room, which was mainly black and white marble floors with black couches, white walls and a black-brick fireplace. He was a simple man, and liked to keep his house simple. He didn’t have time for decorations and besides, it was just more stuff around to collect dust. His housekeeper already had enough to do cleaning the two floor, 8 bedrooms, 6 bathroom penthouse.

Jake tossed his duffle and suit bags on the floor by the elevator, knowing Donna will pick it up and put it away in his closet in the morning. He didn’t know how she did it, but his bag and clothes were always washed and put away by the time he woke up in the morning. She was like Santa Claus, but with less breaking into people’s houses. He slowly made his way to the kitchen, wanting his post-game snack which consisted of chocolate chip cookies and homemade ice cream, both made by Donna.

He came to a stop in the doorway, his eyebrows furrowing at the stranger with her back to him, sitting at his kitchen island. The black dress she wore hugged her frame, and the black heels on her feet made her golden tan legs look like they went on for ages. Her hair was curled and flowed down her back, and the slightest hint of a tattoo peaked out from under the neckline.

“I didn’t order anything, but I am sure glad you’re here,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorway.

The girl jumped, her phone clattering to the island and her hand going to her chest, probably to slow her erratic heartbeat. She waited a moment, before turning around on the barstool, shock written on her face, before it quickly twisted in disgust and anger.

“Oh you got to be fucking kidding me,” She cursed.

Jake chuckled, “Nice to meet you too, sweetheart. Usually that’s not the response I get. And usually the girls are wearing less clothes when I walk in. But I get it, want a bit of a-”

The girl slid off the barstool, holding her hand up to cut him off, “I am not a fucking puck bunny,” She pointed her finger at him, and then waved it between the two of them, “And this is not going to fucking work,” She turned back around towards the island, gathering her phone, purse and coat. Jake couldn’t help but admire her ass in that black dress. He was a sucker for a woman in a little black dress and heels.

“You’re in my apartment wearing a black dress and heels. What else am I supposed to assume?”

The girl scoffed, turning her head with her jaw slightly ajar. Jake let his mind wander a bit, wondering how soft her lips were. They were plump and covered in what he guessed was lipgloss by the way they shone in the dim light of his kitchen.

“You don’t even. . .” She shook her head again, “God you are worse than I remember,” Jake cocked his head in confusion, “I should’ve asked for a fucking name before I drove here. Hell! Before I even agreed to this!”

“What are you going on about?” Jake asked, his eyebrows furrowed, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call you or-” The girl scoffed again, even louder this time, “Okay. . .” He pondered for a moment, trying to rack his brain for the right thing to say, “Well, I’m not that bad of a lay. I’ve been told I’m pretty-” The glare she sent him was enough to make him shut up, “Okay not here for a lay.”

“Not even fucking close,” She grabbed her phone again, quickly opening the uber app.

“Sorry for assuming, sweetheart.”

“Quit with the sweetheart,” She mumbled, refreshing the app to see if a car could come get her. It was a Friday Night in North Island. . . how was there not a single Uber available? She was contemplating walking back to her hotel at this point, “That’s not my name.”

Jake nodded his head, moving from the entryway of the kitchen and over to the opposite end of the island. He’s had his fair share of rejections, but none like this. Usually girls were always down for a one night stand with him. But there was something about the way this girl wasn’t even going to give him the time of day that intrigued him, “Can you tell me what your name is?”

She continued to tap away on her phone, hoping and pleading to whomever that an Uber would become available, but it seemed like she was shit out of luck. She looked up at the man in front of her again, his eyebrows raised, waiting for her response to his question. A strange sensation filled her chest. Embarrassment. Hurt. Anger. She should’ve known that she didn’t mean anything to him, when he had only left a sticky note on the nightstand after what she would consider was the best weekend of her life. She shook her head, pushing away the embarrassment and turning it into fuel for her anger. She set down her purse and coat, holding her hand out to Jake.

“Y/N L/N, your new personal PR manager. . . oh! And your new roommate.”

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ltpolari · 2 years

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how does it feel like to be at the best hsl♡t con ever?????? i can relate. berlin show is the best thing that's ever happened to me!!!!

#first of all thanks to beks for getting us the best seats ever. thanks the gods that berlin did not go through ticket resale #thanks to my bosses for giving me the days of so i could travel at the crack of dawn bc either that OR i will get to berlin at 10PM sjdjshs #THANKS H FOR EXISTING #oh man i cant even begin to describe what tonight felt like - i just know that harry's tiny hello at our direction will fuel me through the #whole year.... i could lift a truck! i could do anything!!!#again thanks to beks for snapping this because if i edit she's def the better photographer between the two of us #ALL I CAN SAY IS AAAAAAAA #maybe maybe once i get a new laptop i'll be back on my bullshit WHO KNOWS #H GAVE US ALLLLLL FOR THIS CON my God OHH AAAHHHH GOD HE SANG MECIDINE ARE U KIDDING #THERES SO MUCH BUT ANYWAY AA A A A A A #harry #mine #also still a larrie for those who are wondering btw 👁👁 once i board i never leave babey #hslot berlin #my show

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eternalsams · 1 year

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Hold My Hand ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings/content: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, divorced parents, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, protected sex (wrap it up kids!), cum eating, pregnancy, pregnancy and birth inaccuracies, angst, complicated birth, c-section, death, grief, depression, mention of child neglect

summary: 5 times you held Jake's hand and the one time you couldn't (+1 bonus).

word count: 6.6k

a/n: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Also, this is my first time writing a smut so please be indulgent. Thank you!

masterlist

ONE

Jake and you met when you were four and him six. Forget about that whole "your moms were best friends" or "you were neighbors since you were born". No. Your mom and his first met each other at your wedding actually but that's a story for another time. Jake and you met at the park during a summer afternoon. You were playing in the sandpit, trying to build a sand castle with the little plastic bucket your dad bought for you the week before. You were trying to keep it standing tall but it would always eventually crumble and fall apart. The frustration started to build up in you and you threw the bucket away from you, crossing your arms on your chest and pouting. You were about to stand up and go find your dad but a little boy, a bit older than you stood before you. "You need to add a little bit of water." You frowned and stayed silent, watching the boy pick up your bucket and grab a bottle of water from the back pack on his shoulders.

You watched closely as he filled the bucket with sand and poured a bit of water. He stirred everything with his bare hands and he overturned the bucket on the ground before lifting it up gently. The pout on your face fell and was replaced by a surprised expression when you saw the sand stay still. You looked up at the boy with parted lips and then back down at the first tower of your castle. The boy slightly laughed at your expression and he started filling up the bucket with sand to make a new tower. You were quick to stop him by grabbing the bucket and filling it up yourself. When you were done, you reached to grab the bottle of water but he was already holding it. "Wait. You do the sand, I do the water. Team work." A smile took place on your face and you nodded excitedly.

The two of you worked perfectly together and you ended up building a big sand castle. The boy was nice, he did as he said, he let you build your castle and he only helped you with the water. When you were done with the castle, you turned to him and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him for his help. He hugged you back and contemplated your work. You pulled away from him and walk around the castle, admiring it. "I'm Jake." He introduced himself, drawing your attention back to him. "I'm Y/N." You smiled at him before you heard the ice-cream man unique melody. You turned around and saw the vending truck parking next to the park. You jumped up and down and grabbed Jake's hand before running to your dad to ask for an ice-cream. Jake smiled at the feeling of your small hand in his and he followed you, smiling politely at your father when he asked him if he also wanted an ice-cream.

TWO

You were now eighteen and getting ready for your second date with Jake. You realized you had feelings for your best friends years ago and you talked about it with him but you also wanted to graduate from high school before starting anything. You knew how much of a distraction he could be for you, even without trying to be, and you also knew that if you started a relationship with him before graduating, you wouldn't graduate at all. So you told him you wanted to wait, but what you didn't expect was that he would wait for you too. You thought he would have some dates with girls from high school and since he was two years older than you, you thought college would change his mind and that he would forget about you. But he didn't. You've never seen him with a single girl at his arm, never seen him look at any girl the way he looked at you. And when graduation day finally came, he asked you out, even asked your dad if that was okay with him if he brought you to a nice restaurant. And that's what he did, he brought you to a really nice restaurant but not too fancy. It wasn't awkward as you thought it would. You laughed, chatted and acted like you used to but there was something else. Some glances, some touches, that's what made the difference with all the other nights out.

And tonight would be your second date, he told you he'd surprise you, not to dress too fancy. So you opted for a nice sundress with a cardigan and some old school converse shoes. You heard the door bell ringing and smiled before running down the stairs, quickly kissing your dad's cheek who was holding the front door open for you. You locked eyes with Jake and smiled at him before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. "You look amazing." He murmured against your hair. "Don't stay out too late, kids, okay?" Your dad made sure to remind you. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home in one piece." Jake smiled at your father, the two men always laughing together, you were glad the two of them got along. "12am, not later than. Understood?" The elder man said as Jake walked you to his truck. "Sir, yes Sir." He mock-saluted before you heard the front door close behind you. "So... Where are you taking me tonight?" You asked him as he held the passenger door open for you. "Get in the car and see for yourself." He winked and closed the door when he made sure you were comfortably seated. He jogged around the truck and sat down behind the wheel.

He turned to you and smirked before quickly glancing at the back seats. You frowned and turned your head, discovering a blanket and a bag full with food. "We're having a picnic?!" You asked excitedly when you turned back to him. He nodded, started the car and pulling it in drive before getting out of your driveway. The drive was silent but not awkward, only the radio was faintly playing the summer hits and Jake was tapping his fingers in rhythm on the steering wheel while you quietly hummed the melody. Jake eventually parked next to a lake, the sun set reflecting on the water. You grabbed the blanket and he took the bag before he led you on the lakeside, under a weeping willow. It was really nice, romantic and intimate, cutting you from the outside world. You settled everything and sat down on the blanket. Just like your first date, you laughed, talked and this time, you even cuddled on the blanket. Even though it was summer and the days were hot, the fresh air of the evening was giving you goosebumps and Jake noticed it immediately, wrapping you in his arms.

He checked his watch and saw that it was almost 11:30. He kissed your hair and leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I should get you home, I don't want your dad to cancel our weekly football training." Oh yeah, that was something else your dad and Jake shared. Since the moment Jake told him he loved and played football, your dad made sure to play with him. Jake was already part of the family at that point. You nodded and helped him getting everything back in the bag before walking to the truck. As promised, Jake got you home before 12 and he walked you to the front door. You were looking down at your feet, feeling your cheeks blushing hard by the proximity. You stopped on the porch and Jake cleared his throat. "That was really nice." You looked up at him and smiled softly, standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. At the last moment, Jake turned his head and your lips landed on his for a second. You pulled back, eyes wide and your face as hot as a grill. "It was." He smiled at you before taking a step closer, if that was even possible. He slid his hands on your waist and looked down at you. You realized just now how tall he was. "Was that okay with you?" He asked, a bit concerned about your silence. You simply nodded and put your hands on his shoulders. "Can I do it again?" You nodded again and he smiled gently before leaning down and tilting your head slightly back so he could have better access to your lips.

The kiss was oh so gentle, you didn't really know how to kiss him back properly so you just moved slightly your lips against his, tasting him for the first time. That only had a growl coming out of him and you grew eager to hear him do that again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kept tasting his lips. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, earning him a small moan from your lips. And that's when he decided it was enough for tonight, he didn't want to lose control over himself on your father's porch. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, keeping his eyes closed. You, on the other hand, opened your eyes and searched to meet his gaze. You licked your lips, the need to keep the taste of him there, and scratched nervously at his neck. "Did I do something you didn't like?" Your voice was quivering with anxiety and he opened his eyes, finally having back the control over his own body. He smiled softly and crossed your gaze. "No... You did something I really liked, that's why I needed to stop for a moment." He felt his cheeks heating up. "Oh..." You tried to contain your cheeky smile but he saw it. "I'll call you tomorrow. Have a good night..." He whispered against your lips before pecking them and pulling away from you, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. He started stepping back but you kept one of his hands in yours, not wanting to say goodnight yet. You watched him step away from you but not looking away, the same stupid smile on his lips than on yours. You eventually felt his fingers slip from yours and he walked down the porch before glancing back at you. You smiled lovingly and waved at him before grabbing your keys and opening the front door silently not to wake up your dad. You looked back one last time and saw Jake raising his fist in the air before getting in his truck and driving away.

THREE

You grabbed the keys from Jake's hand a ran to the house in front of you, screaming excitedly. You were 26 and he was 28 at that time. You'd been together for eight years and Jake was a Top Gun graduate, you were starting your own little bookshop in town, everything was going perfectly. So you decided to finally settle down together and when you found that adorable little house in this amazing neighborhood, you couldn't resist. You and Jake moved in California, next to the Miramar base, it was easier for him and a new adventure for you. Jake followed after you, running and laughing, asking you to slow down and wait for him. But you just couldn't wait, that was your first house with Jake, the first time you would live together. And you really hope it would be your last too, that you would start a family of your own in between these walls and hear children laughter in the backyard. You unlocked the front door before feeling strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you up from the floor and swooping you in his arms. He opened the door and walked in with you bridal style. "Home sweet home." He said before kissing you and putting you down on the floor. You smiled against his lips and pulled back, looking around you. The house was still empty, the moving trucks would bring everything the next day. You made sure to have the necessary today, as in a mattress and some food in the fridge.

"I can't believe we just did it. We have our own house." You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked up at him lovingly. "Our own home." He said in turn before dipping you and kissing you, making you giggle. He brought you back up but kept his lips on yours, parting your lips to taste you. He gently tapped your thigh and you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you against him, his hands firmly on your ass. "Where's the bedroom again?" He asked between two heated kisses. You laughed and indicated the way and before you knew it, he got on his knees and laid you down on the mattress. You could feel the hardness of the floor under it but you didn't care. In just a matter of days, this place would be perfect and comfortable for the both of you. Jake's lips travelled down your jaw until they reached the pulse point behind your ear, making you whimper. You grabbed his shirt and tugged at it, trying to take it off of him. You just wanted to feel his skin against yours. His hands were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, they were roaming along his sides, you could feel his fingers toying with the hem of you shirt, which was extremely frustrating. "Stop teasing, Jake..." You closed your eyes and tugged on his shirt to help him get rid of it. He only chuckled and unbuckled his belt before you opened his pants and slid them down his legs with your feet, taking his boxer briefs with them along the way. He stepped back and kicked them off before returning to you.

You looked at him up and down, mostly down. His hard length at attention against his stomach. "I think you're a bit overdressed..." He cocked his head to the side and smiled down at you. "Then help me, Lieutenant." You murmured in his ear and bit on his earlobe, making him growl. His hands were back on your body and he nearly ripped your shirt out of you before unclasping your bra and taking your breast in his mouth. He swirled your left nipple around his tongue while he massaged your right breast in his hand. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his mouth and he started undoing your jeans. He slid his fingers into your panties and chuckled against your sensitive skin. "So wet already..." Two of his fingers gathered up your arousal and he started circling expectedly your clit. A lewd moan passed your lips and you grabbed his upper arm, squeezing the muscle to anchor yourself. His lips left your breast and he kissed his way down your body, sucking here and there before soothing the bruising skin with his tongue. "Jake..." You whimpered, getting impatient. "What is it, baby?" He glanced up at you, applying just the right pressure on your clit to make you mewl. "Just fuck me already... Please!" Your hand went down to run through his ruffled hair and tug at it. "Right away, Ma'am." He kissed the skin right under your navel and slid your jeans down your legs, discovering the lacy panties you were wearing. "So pretty, baby." His fingers left your clit to slide your panties to the side and he kept his face right in front of your cunt or what seemed to be hours for you. You were about to push your pussy on his face when you felt his tongue tasting you a first time, having you gasp his name. His hands kept your legs wide open while he started devouring you like a starved man.

"This is getting on my way, actually." He said before ripping your panties and throwing them over his shoulders. "Jake!" You shouted at him but he was already face buried in your cunt. "I'll buy you others." He groaned against you and a shiver ran down your spine, the vibrations of his voice bringing you close to the edge. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and you planted your heels on his shoulder blades. You tried to anchor yourself but it was all so overwhelming you couldn't do anything other than moaning and screaming his name. His nose would occasionally rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. But it's when his thumb started rubbing your bundle of nerves that you found yourself clenching and arching your back in ecstasy. Jake stayed buried in your thighs until the last moment, lapping at your cunt and swallowing everything to last drop you would give him. He rubbed your thighs to help you come down of your high and looked up at you with a loving gaze. You eventually looked down at him and smiled when you saw him resting his cheek on your thigh. "You with me, baby?" He planted a kiss on the inside of your thigh before crawling his way back up. You slid your hands on his cheeks and saw the way his lips glistened with your release. It was awfully hot. You pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaned, feeling the tip of his cock against your thigh. "Jake...?" You whispered between kisses. "Yeah, baby?" His lips were back on your neck, sucking softly the skin there. "Condom, now." You breathed out and he grinned. "At your service, Ma'am." He pulled away from you and dug into his bag by the side of the mattress, taking out a condom. He ripped it open with his teeth and immediately rolled it over his already sensitive length.

You bit your bottom lip and pulled him down, kissing him and reaching down to line him up with your entrance. He looked at you one last time before slowly pushing in, making the both of you moan. You felt him stretching you open, but in the best way possible. You gently rolled your hips to take him deeper and you mewled when his pubic bone rubbed against your clit. "Please, move..." You whimpered and he slightly pulled back before slamming his hips into yours, hitting that special spot deep inside you. Your hands started roaming along his back, scratching his skin and trying to hold on his firm shoulders. But nothing seemed to do the trick. His hips were slamming into yours, his cock reaching so deep and his lips sucking at your skin so deliciously you couldn't think straight. It was all so good but never enough. Your whimpers drew his attention and he pulled back from your neck, peppering kisses all over your face. "It's okay, you're okay... You're with me... I'm here, it's okay..." He whispered and brought your hands up above your face, interlocking your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand and seemed to relax and abandon yourself into the moment. Jake simply grinned and kissed you deeply before he felt your legs wrapping around his waist and holding him as close as possible.

FOUR

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying and ruining the incredible makeup the nice lady spent an hour perfecting. Your beautiful white dress conforming your curves and the veil attached to your hair were gonna drive Jake crazy when he's gonna see you. You looked up at the clock on the wall and breathed out, knowing it was almost time for you to walk down the aisle. Knocks on the door behind you were heard and you invited in the person on the other side, already knowing who it was. The door opened and your mom stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as she brought up her hands to her mouth in awe. "Oh my God, you look splendid..." She teared up. "Please don't cry. I've been trying not to for thirty minutes now." You turned to her and opened your arms to hug her. Your parents divorced when you were two and your mom moved out of the state, preferring the East coast to Texas. You hadn't seen her as much as you would've liked growing up but seeing her on the most important day of your life meant a lot. She met Jake a few times when you two visited her and she knew he was perfect for you. After nine years together, you were more than ready to say 'I do'.

You pulled back from the hug and looked at her. "I'm so glad you're here." You sighed in relief. You knew your parents couldn't be in the same room, they didn't leave things on the best terms. "I couldn't miss this in the whole world." She stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead. "You're nervous?" She asked you, stepping back a bit. You shook your head and beamed at her. "Not at all. I'm so excited to marry my best friend." You trampled on the spot. Your mom laughed at your attitude, it was like watching a child on Christmas morning. There was no doubt you were excited for today. "I'll let you be. Your dad is waiting for you at the door. And well... Your man is waiting for you at the altar." She gave you one last hug and left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You turned to the mirror and lowered the veil on your face before joining your dad outside so he could take you to the aisle. "You look amazing, sweetie." He complimented you before kissing your cheek. "Ready to go?" He asked, presenting his arm for you. You nodded with a grin and wrapped your arm around his, holding firmly the bouquet in your other hand. Just before the last turn to enter Jake's sight, you stopped your father and grabbed the dress just above your breast. Your dad looked at your surprise when you readjusted your dress and laughed softly when you winked at him. "Gotta make a great impression for the first look." You took a deep breath and wrapped your arm around your father's and the both of you took your first steps on the aisle.

Your eyes immediately found Jake's at the end of the aisle and you smiled. His lips slightly parted in awe and he grinned. He looked so beautiful in his dress blues, he looked perfect. If you wanted to tease him later, you'd only have to say he teared up when he first saw you in your white dress but you wouldn't. Because you too teared up at this magical moment. You reached the altar and your dad kissed a last time your cheek before giving your hand to Jake. Your soon-to-be-husband helped you walking up the few steps of the altar and you gave your bouquet to your maid of honor before taking both of Jake's hands in yours. "Hey..." He mouthed when the priest started his speech. "Hi..." You mouthed back, all giddy. "You look phenomenal." He then mouthed, looking you up and down. "You look great too." You smiled at him. It was a silent conversation but it was more than enough for the two of you. It was only the two of you, holding hands on the most amazing day of your lives.

FIVE

Few years have passed since you both said 'I do' and you couldn't be happier. Well yes, you could. But that's in progress. You were now 29 and him 31. He was one of the best pilots in the Navy, if not the best one. And your bookshop was quite successful. Jake was deployed few months ago for a secret mission you couldn't know anything about and when he came back, he was another man. For a few days, you couldn't recognize your own husband but you talked it out and now he was back to normal. Before he left, the only thing he said was that it was probably the most dangerous mission he would ever have to do and to give him an extra reason to come back to you, you told him you wanted to stop taking the pill. That night, you barely slept but then he realized how much more it meant. You wanted to start a family with him and he needed to be there for you through it all. So he made it his personal mission to come back to you. And that's what he did, he came back to you after a month of deployment and you told him you were pregnant. He couldn't have been happier than when you showed him the blood analyze.

You were now fourteen weeks pregnant and both you and Jake were waiting impatiently this very date, knowing you could discover the gender of the baby around that time. You were laying on the chair, your shirt pulled up to show your small baby bump Jake couldn't keep his hands off. You discovered a whole new side of the man you loved when you got pregnant. He was so protective of you, so gentle. Even when you had sex, it never had been this gentle, this tender. You absolutely loved it. The doctor moved the ultrasound thing around your bump, first checking if everything was alright before turning over to you. "You wanna know the sex?" She smiled at you. You looked up at Jake whose eyes never left the screen, trying to see by himself. You chuckled and nodded your head, seeing that your husband was nowhere able to answer her. She turned back to the screen and pointed to a little something. "It's a girl. Congratulations." Jake looked down at your with teary eyes and took your hand in his. "We're having a baby girl?" He asked you, scared that his ears betrayed him. You nodded and wiped his teary eyes. "We're having a baby girl, Jake." You confirmed before he brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit, I'll be back in ten." The doctor pressed a few buttons and three copies of the ultrasound came out of the printer in the corner. She gave them to you and left the room. "We're having a girl!" Jake exclaimed as soon as the door was closed, making you laugh. "I think you owe Coyote twenty dollars, baby." You chuckled. Your husband wanted a baby girl but didn't believe at all that he would get one, so his best friend made the bet that he would. "I've never been happier to lose money." He rested his forehead against yours and took back your hands in his, holding them close to his face so he could kiss them whenever he wanted.

SIX

You woke up sooner in the night with back pain and when you tried to go to the bathroom, you groaned in pain as you felt a contraction in your lower stomach. It wasn't unusual at almost nine months of pregnancy but this time it was more painful. But minutes later, you had to wake up Jake hurriedly, telling him your water broke. His eyes shot open and it was like he'd never been asleep. He grabbed the bag you two started to pack and added some last minute stuff before driving you to the hospital, holding your hand to reassure you and comfort you. When you were waiting in the waiting area, he texted Coyote, his parents and yours. Your eyes were closed and your head was resting on Jake's shoulder, the nurse at the reception asked you some questions and told you it was too early for you to go in the delivery room. So you waited, in pain. Jake's hand rested on your knee and his other arm was around your shoulders. Occasionally you would let out growls and moans of pain, people looking at you as if you were some sort of animal. Jake would glare at them and then kiss your hair, murmuring praises in your ear.

After almost two hours of waiting, you heard your name called and a nurse came to check on you, asking how long the contractions were apart. She smiled and told you you could join a room in the resting time. Jake stood up and helped you getting on your feet before he heard his name called. He turned his head and saw Coyote running into the waiting area. "Hey, sorry I didn't see your text." He apologized. "It's the middle of the night. I'm glad you didn't see my text." Jake tapped his shoulder and his best friend helped you walking while Jake went to pay for the room you would stay in before going to the delivery room. Coyote and you followed the nurse and he helped you laying down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable. Jake came back quickly and was fast to be by your side, his hand immediately taking yours. "I called Mav and Cyclone to tell them you wouldn't show up today, or tomorrow." Coyote explained, stepping aside to give you some room. Another moan of pain slipped from your lips and Jake's attention was back on you. "Thanks, man." He quickly glanced at his friend before squeezing your hand. "You're doing amazing, baby. You're amazing, keep doing this and we'll have our baby girl sooner than planned." He kissed your knuckles and a nurse stepped into the room. "Keep praising her like this and all of this will only be a bad dream." She smiled at Jake.

You stayed three more hours in this room, Jake never leaving your side and never letting go of your hand one second. Coyote was the one getting you water or food. You got used to the contractions, to the pain so now if anyone would walk by the door, they'd think you're asleep and your husband is just watching over you. But you weren't and your husband was begging any deity he could take your pain. The nurse had connected a machine to your vitals to make sure everything went according to plan. Jake kept murmuring praises and kissing your hand until he heard the worst sound he could ever hear at that moment. The machine your were connected to started beeping aggressively and a nurse came running into the room, checking something before running back out, calling for a doctor. Coyote came back with two coffees and a panicked expression on his face. "I just saw your nurse running in the hallway, what's happening?" He asked as Jake kept looking at you up and down, looking or anything looking wrong to him. But you seemed fine. Oh no, the baby. The nurse came back into the room with your doctor and she checked the exact same thing the nurse did and she grabbed the breathing aid before putting it on your face. "What's wrong? What's happening?" Jake started to panic, still holding your hand. "Her blood pressure is going down." The nurse and the doctor stayed active around you and set up an I.V. Jake is so glad he's able to stay by your side but he's also very scared anything bad happen to his girls.

An hour later, your blood pressure seemed to go back to normal and you're moved to the delivery room, only Jake is allowed to follow. Coyote would be waiting for you in the waiting area and keep everyone updated with Jake's phone. Your legs were now spread open, the doctor checking if your body was ready for the delivery but every time she would pull back, she'd give you a tight smile and tell you to wait a bit more. The contractions were more painful and Jake was standing right behind you, his hands on your shoulders but still holding one of your hands, never letting go. But when the doctor lowered herself between your legs for the umpteenth time, she frowned, called for the nurse with a whisper and the lady nodded her head in agreement. "What? What's wrong?" Jake asked, seeing something wasn't right. "Your daughter isn't in a head-down position, I won't be able to deliver her properly without risking harming her of your wife." The doctor explained. "So what are we doing?" You asked with a weak voice before groaning at the contractions. "I recommend a c-section." And it was like a bomb going off in the room. Just the idea of a c-section made you sick. Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead and murmured in your ear. "You got this, okay? You can do it, baby. Look on the bright side, it'll be faster and less painful. We'll have our baby girl faster." He gently stroked your sweat-wet hair. "Dad's right, you won't feel anything and your daughter will be with you sooner than with a traditional delivery. The only downside is that it'll take you a bit more to recover." The doctor promised and you nodded your head. "Okay, let's do this. Let's have our baby girl." You looked up at Jake and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.

You were moved to the surgical block, Jake allowed to come with you since you'd be conscious. The doctor was accompanied by two nurses who would assist her during the surgery. They gave you anesthetics and you soon felt nothing but calm in your body. A cloth was stretched between your face and your lower stomach so neither you or Jake could see the bloody part. Jake still held your hand, you couldn't remember how long it's been since he let go of your hand but the simple touch of his skin was reassuring you. The surgery was going well, and the doctors kept you updated on everything they were doing. Jake murmured praises in your ear and you only looked at him lovingly, feeling nothing but pure love for the man above you. You were feeling a little bit weak but you put that on the fact that your lower half was cut open. "I love you, Jake." You smiled at him and he looked down at you. "I love you too, baby. You're doing great." He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair out of your face. "Dad? You might want to come and see this." The doctor called and Jake walked around you, never letting go of your hand. The woman was holding the tiny baby in her arms, the umbilical cord still connecting to two of you. "We have a baby girl..." He breathed out, squeezing your hand and glancing at you. "You gave me a baby girl, she's beautiful..." You smiled at him and squeezed his hand in turn before he looked back at your daughter and the doctor gave him scissors to cut the cord himself. He did it with one hand, still holding yours with the other and one nurse took your daughter to go and get her all cleaned up.

"Alright, Mama. How are you holding up?" The doctor called above the cloth as Jake moved to go back behind you. "I'm feeling tired." You chuckled weakly and the doctor smiled. "It's normal. With the contractions and the anesthetics, it's completely normal to feel tired and weak." Everything was going great. You and Jake had a daughter, she was fine and you would be fine in a moment too. But the frown on the doctor's face said otherwise. Jake looked curiously the doctor's movements becoming more rushed and he knew something was wrong. The machine next to them started beeping and he immediately looked down at you. "Hey, baby... Keep your eyes open, okay? We're almost done." He tried to keep you awake but could see how weak you were. "I'm tired, Jake..." You sighed. "I know, baby. I know... But you're doing so good... Doc! What's happening?" He looked up at the doctor who kept asking for gauzes to the nurse. She didn't answer him, focused on what she was doing and Jake started to panic. He looked down at you and stroked your cheek, trying to stimulate you to keep you awake. "Baby? Hey, Y/N... Stay with me, okay? You better stay with me!" His voice started quivering and his eyes teared up. He looked back up at the doctor and was about to ask her what was happening when he felt it. He looked down at you and more precisely at your hand slipping from his. He held it tighter but you were not squeezing anymore. And then the flatline.

BONUS

Jake didn't know how long the curtains had been closed or when was the last time he ate a real meal. Olivia would wake him up from his 2 hour night of sleep, crying and screaming and he would stay in bed for another hour, just listening to his daughters cries, hoping you would swoop in and feed her, change her diaper or just comfort her. But you never did, so he'd get up and go to the nursery, lean over the crib and take his crying daughter in his arms, purposely avoiding looking into her teary eyes because they looked just like yours. He'd walk to the kitchen and prepare her bottle, keeping her against his shoulder and swaying calmly to try and appease her cries. "Come on, Liv'. Be good for Daddy and shut your pretty little mouth. Please..." After the bottle was warm, he checked on his wrist if it wasn't too hot, just like Penny taught him and he went to sit on the couch, turning the crying baby in his arms and he led the pacifier right between her rosy lips. She stopped crying for a moment and Jake threw his head back against the couch, enjoying the silence. His eyes teared up and before he could wipe his cheek with his shoulder, Olivia started crying again.

He sighed and put aside the bottle before holding the baby closer to him and gently tapping her back. Just like Penny taught him. But he wished you were the one teaching him all of this. He wished you would both learn how to take care of a baby, your baby together, as a couple. But he was learning alone, and he was learning terribly. What kind of father would let his daughter cry for hours just because he didn't want to have a reminder his partner in life wasn't there with him? He tapped her back until she burped, making Jake slightly smile. "That's my good girl..." He walked up to the bathroom and glance at the bag with all the products you used. He couldn't throw away everything you owned, he just couldn't. He laid the baby down on the changing table and avoided looking into her eyes before he started opening her onesie, one that you picked at the store because there's a plane on it and you wanted your daughter to grow up with things related to her dad. Jake changed his daughter's diaper and dressed her up in a pretty little green dress. Just as he was about to grab her under her arms, he stopped in his tracks, completely frozen when he felt it. Her little hand, those tiny fingers wrapped around his big middle finger. The warmth of her hand was the same as yours, even though her skin was way softer and fragile than yours. His breath got caught in his throat and turned into a sob. His eyes teared up and he let out a whimper before falling to his knees. His finger still held so tight by his daughter. He just couldn't keep the tears to himself, so he let it all out, sobbing and weeping on the bathroom floor.

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mvltisstuff · 11 months

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Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.

lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙

love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹

are you with me - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality

it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.

over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.

she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.

all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.

buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.

most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.

she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.

“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.

“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.

“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”

“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.

“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”

despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.

“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.

“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.

“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.

y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.

y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.

“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”

“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.

“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”

“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“

“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.

weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.

y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.

buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.

at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.

“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?”

her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”

“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.

“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”

her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”

y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.

y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s Note: thank you so much for all the love on this little fic! Please consider leaving a comment because they make my whole day 🖤

Additional warnings/tags: age difference (15 years), explicit sexual content, dirty talk (like a LOT), pet names, vaginal fingering, begging, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of oral (f receiving), p in v, fluff, mild angst. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

The next couple weeks feel like a dream that you never want to wake up from. Joel comes over every morning and gives you a sweet kiss before heading upstairs to start on his work while you study, actually being able to focus now that the air is cleared with him. He comes down at lunch and sits beside you with a hand on your thigh while you chat and eat, his eyes all soft as he watches you gesture wildly about the topic at hand.

He’s come back over a couple times after working hours. If Tommy or his neighbor’s teenage daughter are able to watch Sarah for a couple hours, he’ll stop by your house to spend time with you. Most of his visits just end with making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers because no matter how much you beg, he still won’t fuck you.

You can’t tell if it’s a residual feeling of guilt or something else, but it’s driving you insane. He’ll enthusiastically do just about anything else, including a memorable evening where he laid you out on the couch and leisurely ate your pussy until you had to literally shove him away from how overstimulated you were getting. And while that was amazing, you want more from the older man.

Two weeks after your conversation and subsequent activities, Joel comes downstairs on a Friday with a smile on his face.

“Hey, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue traces your bottom lip, slipping into your mouth to slide with yours. “How’s studyin’?” He asks as he pulls away, huffing a laugh as you chase his lips with a pout.

“Fine. Boring. How’s the manly manual labor?”

“Comin’ along nicely. Listen, I wanna ask you somethin’,” he says. “Sarah wants to go to the aquarium tomorrow to see the mermaids. She asked if you could come, too.”

You blink in surprise. “Sarah asked for me?”

“Yeah, she won’t shut up about you,” he replies. “You don’t gotta come if you’ve already got—“

“I do! I mean, I do…want to go. To the aquarium with you and Sarah,” you interrupt.

“Good, that’s…good,” Joel says. You’re just smiling at each other like a couple idiots. He clears his throat and glances away for a second. “We can pick you up tomorrow morning. How’s nine?”

“Nine sounds great.”

He nods, knocking his knuckles against the table top in the way he does when he needs to leave but doesn’t want to. He leans down for another kiss, this one chaste and quick as he bids you goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

_______

Joel parks the truck in front of your house, sending you a quick text to let you know he’s here. Sarah is bouncing in her seat, her little body unable to contain her excitement.

He watches you come out the front door in a fucking sundress of all things and he has to bite back a groan of appreciation. You’re usually in shorts or leggings at your house, which are tempting enough, but your little blue sundress with strawberries printed on it has just jumped to the top of his list of “best things he’s ever seen in his life”.

Joel gets out of the driver’s seat and circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you up into the lifted cab. His hand lingers on your upper back, fingers dragging across your warm, smooth skin. He smiles with smug satisfaction as he watches your arms erupt with goosebumps from his touch.

Sarah calls your name excitedly. “We’re gonna see mermaids!”

You twist in your seat to respond. “I know! Just like Ariel, huh?”

Sarah nods excitedly and proceeds to list off the rest of the animals she’s excited to see, including the stingrays and otters and sharks. You nod along with her list and tell her about how much you love otters, and did she know that otters hold hands when they’re sleeping so that they don’t float away from each other?

Joel can’t stop smiling. He can’t remember the last time he smiled for so long his cheeks ached. Your eyes flit to him briefly and you smile back, bright and sweet.

He parks the truck amongst the hundreds of other visitors in the parking lot and Sarah frees herself from the confines of her car seat. You hop down and join her on the pavement, his daughter’s arms wrapping around your waist and holding tightly until Joel joins the two of you.

“Let’s go see some mermaids,” he says.

________

Sarah’s sitting beside you, her little hand holding tightly to yours while she breathlessly watches the mermaid show. It’s two young women in gorgeous green and red tail suits, diving and flipping while an emcee narrates the show. They take the occasional break with a breathing apparatus, but otherwise they’re holding their breath while smiling and waving at the kids sitting with their noses pressed to the tank glass.

When the show ends, Joel asks Sarah whether she wants to meet the mermaids, earning him a shriek that you interpret to be a yes. He holds her hand as you get in line for the meet and greet, and gives her his undivided attention while she recounts every minute of the exact show he just watched beside her.

Joel insists that you get in the picture with them. A teen with a Polaroid camera tells you to smile.

You don’t have to be told twice.

Sarah clutches that Polaroid protectively to her chest and proclaims, “This is the best day ever!”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst.

________

Joel takes his girls out for dinner after a long day at the aquarium. Sarah sits beside him in the booth at a local bar and grill, clutching a stuffed otter you insisted on buying for her despite his objections that he didn’t want you spending money.

“When’s that exam again?” He asks, snagging one of the nachos from the plate in the center.

“Ugh, end of next week,” you groan. “At this point I’m just ready for it to be over. If I never look at another physics practice test, I’ll die a happy woman.”

“What happens next?”

“Well, I go back to school for senior year. If I bomb the exam, I can take it again before April so that I have my scores available to apply to med school in May,” you say, ticking the steps off on your fingers. “Since I graduate before the end of the application cycle, I’ll have a gap to fill. I was thinking of making it a research year.”

Sometimes, especially in moments like this, Joel finds himself in awe of you, of the way you have your life planned out and your goals ready for conquering. When he was your age, he was still working odd jobs until one finally stuck that he could actually make a living from.

It’s also moments like this that he wonders if he’ll fit into your plans. If you’ll even want him to, or if you’ll go after your next goal and leave him behind, just a fun time from a cruel summer. The thought makes him swallow around the lump forming in his throat.

________

“So, did you want me to drop you off or…,” Joel asks when you’re back in the truck, his eyes fixed resolutely on the road.

“Or…?” You reply, voice dragging the word out.

“You could come over,” he suggests. You bite your lip.

“Why Mr. Miller, are you asking me to spend the night?”

His cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink beneath his beard. “Yeah, I am, baby doll.”

Your breath catches at the endearment. “I’d love to come over.”

His hand crosses the center console, gripping your thigh possessively for the rest of the quiet drive back to his house.

_______

Joel pulls up to a cute two story house at the end of a quiet cul de sac about fifteen minutes from your parent’s home. Sarah fell asleep not long after leaving the restaurant, so he carefully gathers her in his arms and hands you the house keys to unlock the front door for him.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he tells you. “I’m just gonna get little miss here in bed.”

“Okay,” you whisper back, watching him disappear upstairs.

You wander through the first floor, into the kitchen with its pretty bay window with a view of a small backyard. You inspect the fridge and the pictures and drawings stuck to it with magnets. There’s a photo of a younger looking Joel with an arm slung around the shoulders of a man you assume is Tommy, based on the resemblance. Another photo with a scared looking Joel holding a blanketed bundle that must be a newborn Sarah.

You reach out to trace a finger over the Joel frozen in time, a version of himself that didn’t know he’d grow out of that fear and be an amazing father.

You nearly jump when hands slip around your hips, fingers bunching the fabric of your dress in their grip. Joel’s beard tickles your neck as he kisses your pulse point and down to your shoulder.

“You have any idea how insane you’ve been drivin’ me all goddamn day?” He asks, voice a rough whisper against your skin. “This dress should be illegal.”

“It’s a perfectly respectable dress!” You argue. His laugh is dangerous, the rumble of it making your thighs clench in want.

“The things I wanna do to you aren’t perfectly respectable, honey.” His hands pull your hips back against his, grinding your ass against the bulge in his jeans.

You reach a hand back to bring his face to yours over your shoulder, kissing him with a desperation that’s been brewing and bubbling for weeks now. One of his strong hands grips a breast tightly, making you moan louder than you meant to.

“Be quiet, baby,” he warns. That hand slides down until he’s reaching the hem of your dress, pulling it up and holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite it. You keep that out of my way, okay?”

You nod, fabric clenched between your teeth as his hand trails down your stomach, fingers finding the damp patch on your panties and pressing it against you.

“Fuck , sweetheart. Been walkin’ around with panties this wet? Pussy so desperate it can’t help but weep, huh?”

Those fingers slip past the elastic and the first touch to your sensitive clit has you trying to squirm out of his tight hold.

“Uh, uh,” Joel admonishes. He cups your entire pussy roughly. “You stay still or I stop. Still and quiet so I can take care of you, alright?”

You sob around the fabric clenched between your teeth and he takes that as agreement.

His fingers slide through your wetness and he groans into your ear, nipping at the lobe as he circles your clit, the delicious roughness of his callouses making you whine.

Joel only dips the tip of one finger into your hole, withdrawing quickly and leaving you clenching on nothing. When you whine again, he takes pity on you, finally plunging one deep inside before dragging it out slowly, curling it against you.

“You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me,” he growls as he adds a second finger, the stretch of it making you moan. “But Christ almighty, what a fuckin’ way to go, huh?”

With his fingers stretching your cunt and his thumb pressing to your clit and his dirty words in your ear, it's no surprise that you’re already standing on the precipice of release.

“Come on, baby, don’t hold back on me, I can feel you gripping my fingers so fuckin’ good.” His hand works faster and you cry out, the fabric of your dress falling from your mouth. It’s swiftly replaced by his hand. “That’s it, good girl.”

Joel pulls his hand from your underwear and you slump against him, boneless and sated. He’s turning you around in his arms, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you up, urging your legs around his waist. He takes a few steps and sets you on the counter.

“Baby, I gotta fuck you,” Joel says, his voice tinged with desperation. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart?”

________

Joel holds his breath as he waits for you to respond, watching your blissed out expression. You smile at him, reaching forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a deep, filthy kiss. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip, pulling it gently with you as you lean back.

“Please fuck me, Joel,” you whisper, spreading your legs. “Been dyin’ to have your cock in me.”

Joel reaches beneath your dress to tear your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. He reaches into his back pocket and hands you the condom he’d stashed. “Open this,” he commands as he undoes the fly of his pants, shoving them down his thighs in a hurry.

You tear open the foil packet with shaky hands, handing the latex over to him to roll down his length. He slides his cock through your wetness, reveling in how your head drops back with a groan of his name.

Joel begins to ease inside, gritting his teeth as he sinks into your warmth. He’d imagined this countless times and yet nothing compares to the real thing. How your body opens up so sweetly, like it was made just for him. How your mouth drops open as you watch him break you apart.

He forces himself to go slowly, to give you time to adjust. You’ve got one hand propping you up on the counter and the other gripping his shoulder so tight he thinks he might bruise.

“I gotta move, sugar, you feel too damn good,” he says through his teeth. “Tell me I can move, baby, please.”

“Yes, yes, move,” you reply.

Joel withdraws slowly before slamming forward, punching a gasp from your lungs. He does it again and again and again, hardly wanting to be disconnected from you for even a moment. He watches your face, committing the flush of your cheeks and the shimmer of unshed tears in your eyes to memory.

“ Joel,” you sob, your hand digging into his hair and pulling him close. You’re not kissing him, too fucked out for that much coordination, but your lips linger against his as the two of you share the same breath.

“That feel good, darlin’?” Joel asks. You nod your head vigorously. “Come on, baby, tell me how good my fuckin’ cock feels.”

“F-feels s-so g-good,” you stutter. “Want more.”

“More? Tell me how to give you more, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

“Touch me, baby, please.”

Joel maintains his relentless pace as he reaches a hand down to draw sloppy circles over your clit. He watches as you bite your lip, a single tear slipping down your cheek in an effort to stay quiet. He leans forward to kiss it away.

It’s not long before you’re tightening around him, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm looms. His own hips stutter in their rhythm.

“Come on, sweetheart, need to feel you cum all over my cock. Can you do that for me?”

You wrap both arms around his shoulders, keeping yourself pressed tightly to him as you sink your teeth into his shoulder to suppress your shout as you pulse around him. With a growl, Joel follows your lead to ecstasy, spilling inside of you.

His hips slow to a stop, but he keeps himself pressed inside of you, not ready to break the connection. He pulls back only enough to press a slow, languid kiss to your lips.

“That was gorgeous, darlin’,” he says, and he fights a laugh as you blush and squirm beneath him, as if you hadn’t just been begging for and cumming on his cock not five minutes earlier. He slips from your warmth with a groan and you give a little whimper.

He disposes of the used condom, pulling his pants back up but not bothering to button them. He returns to stand between your legs and you drape your arms around his shoulders, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Joel?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What is it with you and kitchens?” You ask. Your face splits with a cheeky grin.

Joel laughs so hard his stomach hurts, your own giggles echoing him. He drags you off the counter, setting you on your feet.

“Come on, let’s get to bed.”

Tags: @huffle-punk @telepathay @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @caatheeriinee07 @leeeesahhh @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #no use of y/n #ao3 fic #tlou #hbo tlou

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azsazz · 2 months

Note

Thinking of rancher cass 🤠

Oh you mean grumpy Rancher Cassian who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman for years?

Rancher Cassian who drives his beat old pickup into town one last time before the storms set in for the winter and he’ll be unable to make it into town until the snow melts in spring? The rusted out truck with over 300,000 miles on it? It was his fathers and as long as it runs he’ll drive it.

That’s how Rancher Cassian is. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The shutter is hanging on by one bolt? He’ll wait until it falls off because there’s too much for him to do around the ranch. The chair has a crooked leg? He’ll sit in it until it collapses under his weight, then, out of spite, he’ll eat his dinners leaning up against the counter as he glares at said chair, sitting broken on the floor.

Rancher Cassian who is at the mercantile, freshening his supplies for the winter. Maybe he grabs a candy bar and shoves it under the pile of things he carries to the register because god forbid someone sees him with a colorful candy bar in his hands. He nods to the women who greet him and shakes the hands of the men who know him, trying to joke with the grumpy rancher about how maybe they’ll see one of his purebreds up in the state rodeo come summer.

Rancher Cassian who’s not one for conversation. Ignores the women who tend to leer without knowing, staring at the jeans that fit tightly around his muscular thighs, the stretch of his flannel across his broad shoulders, the large boot prints from his brown, worn cowboy boots on the dusty road he leaves behind, the always fresh looking cowboy hat that sits atop his flowing hair that he hasn’t bothered to get around to cutting. He’s sure he’ll find the time when he’s snowed up on the farm, between braving the winter storms to check his herd and whatever else needs tending. He doesn’t care about anything more than he cares about his mares.

Rancher Cassian who hears an unladylike curse coming from up the street, where you stand, arms crossed over your chest and accentuating your breasts as you glare at the car that’s decided to break down on you without warning.

Rancher Cassian who tosses his things into the bed of his truck before approaching you like you’re a wild stallion he’s trying to rope down. Your eyes are red with frustrated, unshed tears, and normally the emotion would scare him away, have him jumping into his truck to get back to his ranch, but you’re too gorgeous not to.

You’re not from around here, and Cassian knows this not because he knows everyone in the small town he’s never left in his life, but because of the clothing you wear. Where did you come from, wearing that of all things?

Rancher Cassian who tips his hat and asks, “Do you need help here, ma’am?” He watches the way your eyebrows pull together and your lip lifting in a grimace.

Your eyes rake hot lines down his body, branding him like he does his horses, a hot iron red with heat against his heart, and he’s gone before he ever really knows it.

“(Y/N),” you respond flatly, piercing eyes snapping back up to meet his. “Not ma’am. (Y/N).”

His eyes narrow a little but he doesn’t respond, tight-lipped and waiting for your answer to his question.

You wait him out, a stubborn little thing you are. He reckons he could pull you right up into his chest and swallow you whole, that’s how small you are compared to himself. But there’s that fire in your eyes, you don’t want to relent, but the sun is quickly setting in the sky and the brusque breeze turns colder, causing you to shiver.

“Yes, please.”

Rancher Cassian who looks at your car and tells you the bad news. “Part will take weeks to get here, but I can let the repairman in town know. He can get your car towed over there tonight. I’d suggest checking out the inn at the edge of town. It’s not much, but there’s a storm coming in and you’re going to want to have a place to stay.”

You groan like you cannot believe your luck, and he gets it. No one wants to stay in the bum fuck of nowhere in the small town that houses barely over a hundred people. Cassian doesn’t mind the seclusion, though, up on his ranch with his horses and the beauty of the nature surrounding it, it’s serene.

He doesn’t know why he does it, if it’s the tears lining your eyes or your defeated posture, but he offers up his own truck. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you where you need to go,” he promises. “I just need a ride up to my ranch and you can bring it back when your car is fixed.” He doesn’t say that he knows it’s going to snow badly soon, or that you’ll be unable to return it to him before the snow melts.

You really look like you could cry now, with how nice he is. It makes him uncomfortable, shifting on his feet as you hastily wipe your eyes, accepting his offer with a thanks that is so sincere it makes him question what you’re running from.

Of course, by the time he helps you get the car towed to the auto shop and he’s pulling into the drive, the snow is coming down in droves. The both of you race into his house as the storm rages on. Cassian shows you to his spare room and sets you up there, then goes to start a fire in the fireplace.

Come morning the snow still hasn’t stopped and it’s so thick he can hardly make out the barn from the kitchen window, but there are chores to be done and you haven’t shown your face yet for breakfast, so he leaves the coffee pot on and bundles up, heading outside.

He knows that he should’ve forced you to stay at the hotel in town. He should’ve told you about the storms and how there’s no way you’ll be able to make your way back into town in these conditions. He’s an asshole for keeping quiet, but there’s a selfish part of him that wants to keep you trapped up here with him, so that he can get to know you.

i love rancher cassian gdamn

#rancher!cassian #ask azsazz

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kdogreads · 1 year

Note

Your imagine of being chibs old lady is the cutest, sweetest, loviest thing I’ve ever read 😭😭😭😭. Could I pretty please have more? Maybe when they meet or the early days of the relationship

Thank you so much, sweet anon💕 I’ve been traveling a lot for work so I haven’t had time to turn this into as long of a fic as I would have liked. Part 2 will dive deeper into the early days of this sweet relationship. :)

I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Very Soon

Summer, early 1990s, Charming, CA

You’d lived in Charming your whole life and worked at the same damn diner since you were 16. Until very recently, that is, you started working at St. Thomas Hospital.

The Sons were familiar to you, and you to them, most of them calling you by your first name when you’d cross paths. They’d come in to your little diner regularly over the years and you’d built a friendly relationship with the club. They were the only mechanics in town you trusted to do good work for a fair price, so when you blew a tire just down the road from the shop, you started walking that way.

You walked around to the garage where the guys were working on all kinds of bikes and cars. Tig was the first one to spot you and headed your way. He shouted your name with his normal enthusiast demeanor.

“Hey, darlin’. How ya doing? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay, thanks, but I hit a pothole or something just around the corner, tore my tire and rim all up. You guys got time for a tow?” You asked him in defeat, slugging your bag over your shoulder.

“Oh, anything for you, sweetheart. I’ll pull the truck around,” He waved for the chestnut-haired Scotsman who was working away on a Harley, “You need a lift? Got somewhere to be?” Tig put a hand on your shoulder gently, careful to keep the interaction light, respectful.

“Nowhere to be but here,” You teased back, punching him in the shoulder playfully.

“Good thing Chibs here has a clear schedule then to keep you company, darlin’,” He patted the Scot on the back, a grin spread wide across his face.

Tig gave you a wink and a turned around to go pick up your incapacitated car. Chibs smiled and extended his arm out, pointing you in the direction of the clubhouse. You’d never been inside before, but you’ve apparently been around enough now to be invited in. You’d always been friendly with Chibs, not unlike the other guys, but there’d always been an extra sense of flirtation with him, his eyes lingered a bit longer on you after every interaction.

He held the door open for you as you stepped into the dimly-lit barroom. The smell of cigarettes, weed and booze invaded your senses. A few heads turned when you walked through the door, but as soon as they spotted Chibs behind you, they just nodded your way. A blush suddenly crept onto your cheeks knowing you were only allowed in because you were being escorted by a member.

“Fancy a drink, sweetheart?” You nodded with a smile, and Chibs handed you a cold beer before leading you to the end of the bar top where two barstools sat empty.

“Thank you, Chibs,” You chirped as you slung back a swig of the icy liquid.

He muttered something you didn’t quite catch, so you raised an eyebrow his way. Playfully questioning his words.

“It’s Filip,” He spoke nonchalantly between sips, “Figure someone oughtta use it.”

You smiled at his openness towards you. The only interactions you’d really had with him before now had been in passing at the diner or when he’d been patching up your car, but there was always something in the way he spoke. A certain lilt in his tone that always made your heart flutter. You thought it might just be his accent, but you were happy to learn you might be wrong about that.

“Alright, Filip,” You spoke, just a hint of flirtation in your voice, “However will you entertain me for the next several hours?” You leaned an elbow on the counter top and smiled up at him.

He looked around playfully, nodding his head towards the other side of the room.

“Know how ta play, lass?” He motioned towards the worn pool table, the hint of a smile tugging one side of his mouth.

“Yeah, kinda. Haven’t played for a long time, but I’m sure you can remind me,” You took a sharp breath in before setting your beer down and hopping off your barstool.

When you stood up, Filip didn’t move at first, so you extended your hand to him, a playful, “come on,” dancing from your lips. That was all it took to lift him to his feet, his gaze drifting to the floor momentarily, probably to disguise the blush flooding his scarred cheeks.

He took this new job of teaching you how to be a star pool player very seriously. He’d squint his eyes and get down level with the velvet tabletop, explaining something about the angles and torque needed to get the ball where you wanted it to go. You kept up as best as you could, all of his strategy and technique basically just flowing in one ear and straight out the other.

Sensing your patience thinning, Filip decided it was time to show you how to properly shoot the ball. It was exactly as you’d seen it in the movies. He planted himself firmly behind you, each of his broad arms in line with your thinner ones.

“Nice ‘n’ easy, now,” He spoke quietly, his breath close enough to tickle the hairs flowing over your shoulder, “No’ too much force, righ’ there on the far side o’ the ball.”

You tried not to react to his close proximity, but you couldn’t stop the shiver that shot up your spine. A shaky breath fell from your lips.

“Nervous, lass?” Filip’s lips almost brushed against your ear this time. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Not at all, Filip,” You popped the “p” a bit more than necessary, turning your head slightly to meet his deep brown gaze for a beat before sinking two balls into the corner hole.

“Aye, s’pose no’ then,” He growls with an amused look on his face.

You turn to face him, comfortably trapped between the old wooden table and Filip’s broad body, his arms resting on the oak on either side of you. He takes a deep breath and sinks down so you are face-to-face. You just stare into each other’s gazes for a moment, both of you thinking about your next move.

“Yer beautiful, lass, always thought so,” Filip whispered, his hand raising to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

A blush crept up your chest and spilled onto cheeks. His gaze was not demanding, but invasive. He filled all of your senses like a rushing waterfall, waves breaking above your head over and over again without giving you a moment to breathe.

“Can I —,” You began, knees feeling like they could buckle at any moment under the weight of his presence, “Can I kiss you, Filip?

He didn’t respond for a beat, a smile daring to creep onto his face. He lifted his other hand from the table behind you and cupped both sides of your face, leaning his body into yours. His lips were softer than you expected as he pressed them to your own, planting a sweet peck onto them.

“Aye, lass, only if I can kiss you back,” His words sparking a smile to spread across your face. You leaned back into him and kissed him again, deeper this time. Your lips crashing together and apart time after time. Filip’s tongue licked a swipe across your bottom lip, sliding into your mouth to explore each part of it. You were so lost in the feeling of tongues melding together that you must have missed the recognizable squeak of the heavy clubhouse door.

“Uh, hey,” An amused Tig began, you straightened up quickly with an embarrassed giggle rising in your throat, “If you’re done sticking your tongue down Chibby’s throat, sweetheart, you car is ready to roll.”

You let the laughter spill out of your mouth as you leaned your head down to rest on Filip’s chest. He wrapped one arm around your waist as the other pretended to shield you from Tig’s view, a chuckle escaping Chibs’ cheeky smile, too. You nodded at Tig with a smile still on your face. He turned around to head back out the door shaking his head and laughing.

“I guess ya better be on yer way then, darlin’,” Chibs smiles to you, his hands still planted firmly on your waist. You only nodded up at him before leaning back into his chest and snaking your arms around his broad torso. His strong arms wrapped around you again as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you stayed there a moment, wrapped up in nothing but each other before you pulled away from him.

“I’ll be seeing you soon then, Filip?” You asked as you a stepped towards the bar top to grab your bag. Before you could register it, your hand was caught in Chibs’ tight grasp. You spun your head around with a confused look on your face.

“Aye, lass,” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into your knuckles, “Very soon.”

Part two here 🥰🤪

#chibs telford x reader #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs smut #chibs x reader #chibs imagine #soa chibs #chibs telford #kdogreads #soa imagine

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Note

If you’re still taking requests, could I please have "You look adorable when you smile" with the resident grump, Mr Javier Peña 💖

nonnie how did you know that javier peña is the way to my heart?

my head is stuck on the ranch these days, and this was a fun little prequel to what’s already been published 💕 hope you enjoy! (no angst or smut, just fluffy goodness!)

sleepover saturday

meet-cute

(word count 3k)

He’s had a long fucking day.

Scratch that, Javier is having a long fucking week. Month. Year. Lifetime, whatever. There aren’t enough cartons of cigarettes or enough litres of whiskey that could take the edge off how he’s feeling. And today? Oh, today the hours had just ticked by, five minutes feeling like thirty, his watch moving so slowly that he was convinced far too early on in the day that the battery was dead and needed replacing. But no, the hands kept ticking away at a glacial pace, taunting him.

So yes, as soon as he’d finished his day on the ranch, he’d gotten into his truck, still dressed in his work clothes, and took off for the nearest bar. Not like they’re few and far between in Laredo; he could have walked if he was feeling athletic, or even ridden a horse — most bars within reasonable distance of the ranch have a stable out back.

But he didn’t have the patience to fight one of the mares into a saddle, so into his truck he went, dust kicking up in the rearview as the ranch disappeared behind him.

Javier has been home a few weeks now. The ranch has been officially his for exactly seven days, and he is bone tired. There is dirt in places there shouldn’t be, he’s half-convinced he pulled a muscle in his back, and his head throbs something fierce with every step. The state of him doesn’t stop him from plunking himself on a barstool, ordering three fingers of whiskey and shoving his head in his hands.

He’s not sure he’s cut out for this.

Sure, he was raised for it. Chucho was always adamant that Javi pull his weight, and he did. Or, tried. There were certain things his father knew never to trust him with, turning him towards easier tasks, things Chucho could do with his eyes closed. Javi can remember being offended, at first, his teenage brain filled with hormones that whispered rage quickly — why wouldn’t his dad just trust him? — but then as time wore on, as his attentions were diverted, pulled in the direction of pretty girls and far-off countries, the idea of a badge in his hand and a gun on his hip, he cared less and less.

Eventually, Chucho stopped asking him to do anything, and then Javier was off to college, to becoming an agent, running headlong into Colombia before he really realized what he was getting himself into.

And then somehow, here he was, back in Laredo, right where he started.

Not enough whiskey in the world. His whole body aches for a cigarette, but he swore to his folks he’d quit.

He’s halfway through his second drink when the door opens, the tinkling of bells above it signalling a new customer. Out of habit, he’d perched himself within sight of the exit, and his gaze lifts as you step through the door. High boots, short dress, hair piled high on your head. You’re beautiful, a grin on your lips that has him inhaling deeply, inflating his chest as you bee-line for the bar, a gaggle of other girls staggering into the bar behind you. Judging from the Bride-To-Be sash on one of your companions, Javi assumes it to be a bachelorette party, and he chuckles into his glass as you approach the bar, much more sure-footed than the rest of your friends.

Javier stays quiet as you rattle off an order to the bartender, an odd mix of cocktails and beers, finished with a tonic water with lemon. When the bartender turns away, you lean heavily onto the bar top, and Javier doesn’t miss the way you seem to deflate a little as you wait for your drinks. You start to glance around the bar, eyes flicking this way and that, until they land on Javi, who realizes he’s just been caught staring at you.

“Hi,” you say, a grin lifting the corner of your mouth.

“Hi,” he mumbles back, lifting his glass for a sip. “Bachelorette?”

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh, tossing your head back. “Would you believe this is our fourth bar of the night?”

“Looking at you,” Javi drawls, letting his eyes drop quickly before they flick back to your face. Your own narrow at him, “no. Looking at your friends over there,” he juts his chin towards the women in question, “definitely.”

“And why’s that?”

“You’re upright, for starters.”

You scoff out another little laugh, mouthing your thanks to the bartender when he delivers the tonic and lemon first. You take a big gulp, breathing out a sigh as you wait for the rest of the drinks. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta make sure they all get home to their husbands and boyfriends and fiancés.” Something in your tone makes him curious, and he can’t help his question.

“And who are you going home to?”

“My cat,” you say, laughing again, “and the attic bedroom of my aunt’s house.”

“Sounds cozy.”

You eye him sidelong, hand curled around your glass. “Are you from around here?”

“Born and bred,” he replies, noting the lift to your lips. “You?”

“Not exactly,” you return, taking another sip. Your face has fallen, brows pinched together as you stare down into the glass. “It’s a long story.”

“One requiring a much stronger drink than that?” Javier asks, and instantly regrets it at the way your lips turn down into a frown, the line in your forehead growing deeper. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, expression going artificially bright, “it’s all right. It’s just…been a long day.” You glance over your shoulder as your giggling group of friends. “A really long day.”

Javi lifts his glass towards yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

Your smile has returned as you tap your glass to his, and Javi sips slow, savouring the burn down his throat. “I’m Javier, by the way,” he says, and sticks his hand out. “Javier Peña.”

You give your own name in return, taking his hand. Soft, is his first thought, the warmth of your palm against his making him jolt. You’re still shaking when the bartender turns back with a tray full of your ordered drinks. Behind you, Javier can hear your cohorts screeching your name.

“I better take these over there,” you say, your voice turning sheepish, reluctantly letting go of his hand. He doesn’t miss the hesitation, and it makes his chest puff out a little. He just nods as you slide your own drink onto the tray, thanking the bartender and sliding another few bills across the bar as you try and lift the tray as carefully as possible. “Maybe I’ll see you later?” you say, and Javi just nods some more.

He watches you walk away, and wonders if the swing in your hips is deliberate. His mouth goes dry, and he sucks back more of his whiskey.

Another few hours pass, and Javier is decidedly sober, too worn out to order another drink and suddenly desperate for his bed. He thanks the bartender and closes his tab, waves goodnight, and heads for the door. He has to pass your table as he goes — he’s surprised you’re all still here; the bar is relatively dead — and with a stutter in his chest he realizes you are nowhere to be found. There are a few harmless catcalls thrown his way by your friends as he pushes open the door and heads for his truck.

“You leaving without saying goodbye?” your voice calls, and he spins on his heel to see you leaned against the bricks, cigarette dangling between your fingers. “I think this is the only bar in Laredo that doesn’t let you smoke inside.”

He walks towards you, heart thumping with every step. “Possibly the only bar in the whole state.”

You give him one of those smiles again as he leans against the wall beside you. “Possibly.” You fish your pack from your purse, extend it towards him. “You want one?”

Javi eyes the pack, one filtered end poking out of the wrapper. “I shouldn’t,” he says after a beat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tryna quit.”

You laugh, taking a drag, tapping the ash and blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you two. “Aren’t we all.”

“Promised my folks,” he tells you, staring down at his boots. “I’m taking over the family ranch for my dad and well…it’s a…”

“Long story?” you finish, dropping the cigarette to the pavement, stubbing it out with your heel. “One requiring a strong drink?”

Despite himself, Javier smiles, broadly, the kind that tugs at his cheeks until they almost hurt. “Exactly.”

“Wow,” you murmur, and there’s something in your tone that makes his head lift, cheeks heating when he sees the way you’re almost scrutinizing him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say with a shake of your head, pinching your lower lip between you fingers. “You just…you look adorable when you smile. You should do it more often.”

Before you can get another word out, your group bursts front the bar, your name slurred by multiple women, all of them beckoning you to follow. You sigh, pushing off the wall, and go to take a step before you pause, fishing a pen from your purse and grabbing his wrist.

“Use this,” you say, scribbling on his palm, a string of numbers that make Javi’s heart crawl up his throat, “if the spirit moves you. Or if you feel like telling long stories over strong drinks.” You smile, and for a moment, Javi wonders if the ground is about to open up and swallow him whole. Or if he’s about to wake up in a cold sweat in his bed, that this is all just a dream. That you are just a dream. “Goodnight, Javier.”

“Goodnight.”

Nope, not a dream.

He doesn’t call.

As soon as he gets home from the bar, he’s scribbling your phone number onto a scrap of paper, taping it to the cabinet beside the phone with your name, underlining the word CALL three times, so hard the ink bleeds through the paper. His head is spinning, admittedly tipsy from the whiskey, but more on you. He’s intrigued, he’s curious, he’s pulled in like a magnet facing north.

He wants to see you again.

It sparks something in his chest akin to forest fire, and damn it all, if that doesn’t scare him to death. Yes, there have been women since he came back from Colombia; he’s lonely, not celibate. But you…he can’t put his finger on it. Something about the way you laughed, the smile on your face, the way he wanted to spill his guts to you right there at the bar before you got pulled away, how he wanted to do it again outside when you were whisked away once more.

Monday morning, he taps the piece of paper bearing your number on his way out to start his day, making a mental note to call you once he’s done. He’d managed to talk himself in and out of it at least ten times over the weekend, but Monday felt right. A new week, fresh start.

Except, he’d been lazy Saturday and lazier Sunday, skipping more than half the daily chores, which leaves him playing catchup most of the morning, well into the afternoon, only starting Monday’s tasks as the sun starts to dip in the sky. By the time he hauls his ass through the door, it is late, the sky black and the clock on the stove reading quarter to twelve.

He talks himself out of calling you then easily; it’s late, you are probably asleep. He doesn’t want to wake you.

By Wednesday, he’s caught up on his daily chores, and is through the door by six. A reasonable time to call. But a tiny voice in his head says NO, and he takes a long shower instead.

Thursday seems promising, but when he picks up the receiver, the damn thing starts ringing before he’s even had a chance to dial, and suddenly Steve Murphy’s voice is on the other end, barking at him. “Javi! We still on for dinner tomorrow?”

He fucking forgot.

“Uh, yeah!” Javi chirps, trying not to sound as caught off guard as he feels. “Yeah, yeah, what time you think you guys’ll be here?”

“Six okay?”

“Yeah,” he says again, the word already feeling stiff on his tongue. “Yeah, six is great.”

“Good,” Steve replies. “Livvy’s excited to see her Uncle Javi.”

He forces a chuckle. “I’m sure she is.”

Steve pauses, and then, “You fuckin’ forgot, didn’t you?”

“Oh, shut up, Murphy,” he throws back. “See you tomorrow.”

Steve starts cackling. “Goodnight, Peña.”

The next day, he cuts his day short, in honour of his guests. He’s gotta cook a damn meal, for chrissakes, which means a trip into town for groceries other than whiskey and that instant mac and cheese garbage he’s been living off of. It’s easy, and tastes surprisingly good with a glass of Jack Daniels.

He’s not quite sure what leads him to wander into the bakery. It’s on the main drag, a few blocks down from the grocery store, and he managed to park his truck a few shops down. Something about the bright red awning draws him closer, his curiosity getting the better of him, and when he sees the array of sugary goodness in the window, his stomach rumbles something fierce, and before he can think twice, he’s pulling the door open, bells tickling above.

Javier goes absolutely stock-still when he sees you behind the counter.

The inside is just as bright as the out, candy stripes on the walls, illuminated display cases filled with all sorts of treats. One of those old-fashioned cash registers, brassy and imposing. You’re busy with another customer, handing the older woman a box tied with a bright red bow. You’re laughing as she says something, thanking her as she hands you money, grinning when you hand her back the change.

“Have a good night, Mary,” you say as the woman takes her box and turns. “Tell Paul I said he has to share that cake!”

The bell above the door rings again as the woman leaves, and then you and Javi are the only two standing there. There’s no way you haven’t realized that he—

“You never called.” Your voice is clear, unwavering, and you spread your hands wide on the countertop before leaning down and pushing your chin into your hand, nailing him to the spot with your stare. Javi stares at his boots.

“I know,” he starts, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, I was gonna, I just…” He pauses, inhales deeply and lifts his head. “I don’t have an excuse, I’m sorry.”

You balk slightly, brows raising as you straighten, stepping a little closer until there’s only the counter separating the two of you. “Wow, how honest of you.” The corner of your mouth quirks, but it’s not remotely close to the smiles you’d offered at the bar that night. Your shoulder lifts. “It’s okay, you know, if you didn’t want to call. I won’t get upset or something.”

“No,” he says far too quickly. “No, cariño, believe me, I wanted to. I really wanted to, and I have been meaning to. This is just…” He pulls at his collar, shoving his hand through his hair. Fuck, it’s hot in here. Or is it just him? “Would you have dinner with me?” he breathes out the question, the words a rush. “Saturday?”

You almost flinch, your eyes widening. Javi tenses, waits for the rejection he believes is coming. Why would you agree? He never called, even after meeting you in that bar had felt like the first good thing in a long time, and then he just shows up here, clearly where you work, out of the blue, bewildered as all hell, and asks—

“Yes.”

Javi can’t stop the smile that breaks across his face, and you give him one to match. His heart is racing. He steps closer to the counter. “I should have called.”

You nod, agreeing. “You really should have.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It’s my aunt’s place,” you explain, toying with the string of your apron. “My cousin moved to Florida for school, and she really needed the help, so here I am.” You lift a finger, pointing it in the air. “And no, that’s not the long story requiring alcohol.”

Javier chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then I look forward to hearing the actual story.”

“As you should,” you say, your expression turning almost triumphant. “You should bring a notebook; I might just quiz you after.”

He laughs again. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

You lean forward on the counter, the space between you growing even smaller. “Play your cards right on Saturday, and I might just forgive you.” You glance around, eyes darting towards the door before your voice drops. “Though, there’s one thing I think we need to do before then.”

“What’s that?”

Without another word, you reach out, curling your fingers in the collar of his shirt and dragging him down to your level. You kiss him soft, lips meeting so gently Javi can feel himself melting into you already. Your mouth tastes like powdered sugar.

His cheeks are on fire when he pulls back, immediately licking the taste of you off his lips, half a mind to kiss you again. You’re beaming, thumb tucked between your teeth, and Javi almost stumbles back a step. “I should…” He rubs the back of his neck, gesturing towards the door. “I’m gonna—”

“Okay,” you say, the word tinged with laugher. “So, Saturday?”

“Saturday,” he agrees. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Seven is good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, another little grin on your face. “Goodbye, Javier.”

“Bye.”

He’s halfway to his truck when he realizes he didn’t get a fucking dessert, or your address. He abandons the idea of the former as he clambers back into his truck and starts the engine; he’s sure Connie will bring something, perfect guest she is.

As for the latter, well, it’s a perfect excuse to call you.

#sleepover saturday #my fics #javier peña #javier pena imagine #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #the ranch #javier pena fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

headkiss · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was the anon who requested the matchmaker thing with Dustin and did not realize that I left out the most important detail which was that it was playing matchmaker for the reader and Eddie…… I am so sorry about that!

hi lovely!! no worries, thank you for clarifying because this one was fun to write!!! i really hope u enjoy it :) | 1k words, fem!reader and a blind date with eddie

Your arms are tired, achy, and sweat dampens your forehead. You’re almost done helping your family clear out the moving truck, but these last boxes are really testing you.

They’re yours, and so, you were left alone to carry them inside to your new room, in your new house, in Hawkins. Of course, they had to be the ones filled with your books, the heaviest of your things.

“Need any help?”

You jump, dropping the box you had managed to lift just slightly back onto the floor of the truck, grateful it wasn’t the ground. You turn around to see a curly-haired boy with a shirt that had some sort of science pun on it.

“Sorry for scaring you. I’m Dustin, your new neighbor!”

“Hi Dustin,” you introduce yourself in return, and he smiles so infectiously that you do, too. “I’m not sure you’ll want to help. These are pretty heavy.”

“I can manage. I’m strong and lack bones, so I won’t even be as sore as you!”

You don’t even have time to question him about his missing bones before he comes to stand next to you and looks at the boxes, gasping when he reads the messy writing on them saying ‘books, please be careful,’ and then peeks into the one closest to you.

“You read Lord of the Rings?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? They’re great books.”

“I mean… you’re a girl, and you read them?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, this is fantastic.”

Dustin helps you carry the rest of your boxes inside, manages to charm your mother, and talks about all of his friends as if you know them. He converses with you like you’ve been friends for years even though you’ve just met. You like this kid.

You thanked him for all of his help, promising to let him borrow books he found interesting in return. He was funny and energetic and you think you’ve had a great start to your life in Hawkins because of him.

Eddie has moved Hellfire club to his trailer since he graduated, unable to let go of the group he enjoyed so much. He somehow convinced uncle Wayne to stay out for one night a week so that the games could take place.

Dustin usually arrives first, partially to nag Eddie and partially because he was always that excited. This time, however, he actually had something he wanted to talk about.

“Eddie!” The kid stormed in without knocking.

“Jesus, man! What?”

“I found you a girlfriend.”

“What?” It was no secret Eddie was single, and he liked to be a bit dramatic about it, but he never expected anyone to do anything about it.

“She just moved in nextdoor, and I helped her carry boxes. She reads Lord of the Rings, Eddie! And she was pretty!”

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush there, kid,” he teases, though he can’t deny that his interest has peaked.

“Please, I’m with Suzie. And this girl’s older. Perfect for you, I swear.”

When Dustin says your name Eddie wants to meet you even more. It’s pretty and he thinks that has to mean something.

“Okay… what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I have a plan.”

True to his word, Dustin did have a plan. The whole campaign for the day was postponed as he dragged every member into it—to get you and Eddie together.

Basically, he would set up a blind date and somehow convince you to agree. Dustin is very confident in his skills, the group is not. However, he did succeed and you were set to meet Eddie after a Corroded Coffin set at the Hideout.

The band was already playing when you walked in, and you knew from the way Dustin described him which one was Eddie. His hair was long, a frizzy mess from the stickiness of the room, and he was playing the guitar so well you had to take a moment to watch in awe before going to sit down.

When the set was over, the boy made his way to the bar, which gave you the opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Eddie?” You tapped his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Yeah?” He turns to see you, he knows it’s you because of the small description from Dustin, and he’s stunned because, wow, you really are pretty, like maybe the prettiest girl ever. No way you were a nerd, too.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, watching the smile spread on his face, “Dustin set this up. I’m kind of nervous, never been on a blind date before.”

“Me either, but when I heard you were a Lord of the Rings fan I couldn’t help myself.”

That makes you giggle, you didn’t understand why that was such a huge factor for these boys. Something about the town, maybe.

“You were really great up there, by the way.”

“Yeah?” You nod. “Thanks, babe.”

Babe. Oh, you’re absolutely screwed. He says it so naturally, like it was a reflex meant for you and you could just swoon.

“I think that kid did something right. We’re gonna have so much fun, you’ll see.”

You believed him.

It turns out, Dustin really was a little matchmaker because you and Eddie had a great time. Conversation felt easy, not forced, and thought you were still nervous and so was he, you were still comfortable. He was sweet, a goofy guy hidden under his intimidating persona. Tattoos, long hair, rings. It was a dream.

He ended up taking you home, considering you were dropped off and planned on walking. In your driveway, he thanked you for the best night he could’ve asked for.

As a response, you kissed him.

It wasn’t too heavy, something languid and smooth that had you yearning for more but you held yourself back. It was only the first date, after all. You hoped it would be the first of many.

Dustin watched Eddie walk you to your door through his window, watched the smiles on your faces and the hug goodbye.

He pumped his fist in victory.

#eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson request #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie blurbs

652 notes · View notes

strangerstilinski · 1 year

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SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter one - - chapter two

summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

word count; 11,952

notes; this whole thing was inspired by the throwaway line "two joggers found a body in the woods-" this is the first half of s1e1. i've already completed season one in its entirety but i will be posting them slowly on here. it's 13 chapters in all.

masterlist

c h a p t e r o n e

wolf moon pt.1

All of the craziness started on a Sunday.

The last day of winter break had been stressful enough to start, with the anxiety of having to start up classes again at the front of Amber’s mind all morning. It would be the final semester of her sophomore year. Then, the next year would be crammed with SATs and ACTs and applying to colleges. She knew they would all be one step closer to having to decide what to do with the rest of their lives.

She found it all very daunting.

Since waking up that morning, the girl had restlessly alternated between hiding away in the privacy of her bedroom and lounging in the living room downstairs, unable to find a comfortable place to settle. At some point, she'd managed to chew her nails to the point of bleeding. Pulling her hair back into a braid had become a necessity when she noticed herself picking obsessively at her split ends. Her laptop sat open on the coffee table along with a small stack of paperbacks, from where she had started and then immediately abandoned two different television shows and three books.

After dinner, her irritating inability to sit still had finally pushed her older brother, Jason, to his final breaking point. He'd demanded she go change into exercise clothes and then he dragged her from the house in an effort to release some of her pent up restless energy.

Jason forced her out for a jog through the preserve, and only a measly ten minutes into their run she found herself already with sweat trickling down her temple. She was breathing heavily, slowly falling behind, while her brother continued to run ahead of her with ease.

Amber watched as her brother's lead slowly increased in length, the gap between them growing larger and larger, the sound of his footfalls crunching over leaves and twigs growing more and more faint as she trailed behind. Eventually, upon rounding a long bend in the hiking trail, she realized that she could no longer see him in the distance at all.

With a pause to catch her breath, she bent over at the waist to brace her hands on her knees in an attempt to pull more air into her aching lungs.

Over a mile deep in the preserve, the only sounds that met her ears were that of the breeze whistling as it filtered through barren branches, the odd scuffle of fallen leaves rolling over one another, and her own wheezing breaths of exertion.

When she lifted her head to take stock of where she'd stopped, she found that she'd reached the first fork in the trail. She returned to an upright position, chest heaving as she continued to pant labored breaths, deliberating which path her brother might have taken with hands on her hips.

With a resolved shake of her head, she chose the path to the right. Regardless of which she took, both would eventually lead back to the small trailhead where they'd parked the truck. So, she continued on.

The pace that she settled into could hardly have been considered a jog — if anything, she was moving in a walk with only the exaggerated body movements of a run, but she was tired.

She had only made it a few hundred feet from where the trail split off before she spotted something that piqued her curiosity in a pile of dry brush and leaves at the side of the trail. She slowed as she approached, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead with her shirtsleeve and breathing heavily.

Poking out from the leaves, she could just make out the peculiar shape of a cluster of pale rocks — it almost resembled toes.

A choked combination of a gag and a gasp escaped her. She covered her mouth with the sleeve of her windbreaker as she reached the pile of brush because — It was definitely toes, connected to a foot, which then connected to legs and, well, that was pretty much where it ended because there was only half of a body.

Another gag pushed its way out of her throat, eyes drawn to the clean, smooth cut that went straight through the hips of the corpse beneath the dead leaves. Something had been used to cut them through muscle and flesh and bone. She could see it was a female — the body had been left completely naked.

This had been a person. And they laid on the ground, covered in earth and dried blood, just a few feet from where she was standing. Amber could see dirt caked around the pink nail polish that covered the woman's toenails. Even through all of the blood, she could make out a tiny freckle on the bare skin of the corpse's knee.

She fought back another gag as she finally found her voice, and she screamed.

“Jason!”

Her voice came out shrill. It cracked painfully as she shouted for her brother again and again. She screamed only a handful of times before she could hear her brother yelling her own name in panic as he backtracked and found his way to her on the trail.

Jason's feet skidded in the dirt as he came to a stop in front of where his sister was still standing. Her shaking fingers still covering her mouth as she struggled to keep herself from dry-heaving. His hands went to her shoulders as he checked his sister over for any sort of visible injury. When he found none, his attention turned around them, searching for a threat. His eyes widened when he followed her gaze and caught sight of the body — what there was of one — that sat only a few feet away from them.

Amber distantly heard the call that her brother placed to the Sheriff's Station. She could hear him telling someone about the body and she heard him give directions to their location on the trail, but it was echoed, like she was underwater as she listened to him speak into his phone off to the side of her peripheral vision.

She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the corpse. The skin was so pale, it had almost a blueish hue. She wondered, absently, if the person had been out here in the cold before they died, or if that was just what a body looked like after so much blood loss because this person must have lost... So. Much. Blood.

The whole body was covered in in it, gluing dry leaves and dirt to their skin. They had been cut in half. Or, maybe they hadn’t been cut in half until after they’d died. Maybe, Amber thought, it had been something simple. A quick death. Something like a gunshot to the head–

God. She hoped desperately that the woman hadn’t been sliced in half while they were still alive.

It felt like only a minute or two had passed but it must have been longer because suddenly, the bright evening sunlight that had guided her along the trail during their jog was dwindling. It was growing dark and she was being ushered away from the body as officers took pictures, laying crime tape and placing little numbered tents around the scene.

Her brother stood off to the side speaking to the same deputy Amber had just finished with, recounting his own memory of the evening. The deputy nodded and took notes down on their little pad once again, just as they had when Amber had been talking.

Down at the end of the trail, it seemed as if police cars might never stop coming. There were officers making their way up with search dogs now. The dogs barked and ran around, likely on the search for the other half of the body.

She stood off to the side as her eyes flicked from where Jason was speaking to the deputy, to the location of the body, where cameras were flashing and uniformed deputies were moving back and forth in a blur.

Amber felt a hand land on her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she spun around to see that it was only Sheriff Stilinski, looking at her with the same soft look of concern in his eyes that she'd seen so many times over the years.

“Amber. I didn’t realize it was you and Jason who’d come across it. When I got the call.. I was out of the house so fast I didn’t think to ask-” He sighed, “You okay, kid?”

The girl took a shaky breath, but nodded. The heavy hand Sheriff Stilinski still had resting on her shoulder felt grounding. While he could never replace her dad, he was as close as she got these days and she was grateful for his presence now.

Over the years, there had been something about the stern, protective, always unwaveringly loving energy that her best friend's father emitted. Somehow, he always managed to make her darkest days just a bit better — it was entirely possible that the ability was simply a Stilinski family trait.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Scarred for life, definitely, yeah. But, okay.” Amber said, feeling proud when the small smile she gave him was only somewhat shaky. “I actually think I might go to Scott's? I’ll call Stiles.. See if they want to watch some movies or something. Just.. Distract myself, y'know?”

Getting Stiles to sit down quietly and watch a movie could be like pulling teeth sometimes. He was constantly jamming his elbow into her waist to get her attention away from the screen, or talking over the action, or pulling out his laptop mid-scene to search the internet for inaccuracies or an actor's filmography in a way that she found endlessly endearing.

It was exactly the kind of distraction she felt like she needed right now.

The Sheriff nodded in response before pulling her in for a tight hug. His hand lingered at the back of her head for a few moments, but then he was releasing her and setting off to talk with a cluster of officers.

“I'd really feel better with you at home where I know you're okay.” Jason told her once they'd closed themselves off inside of his pickup truck.

While understood why her brother was so reluctant to let her go off on her own, Amber was entirely too stubborn for her own good, and Jason inevitably agreed to drop her at Scott's house on his way home, with her promise of getting a decent night’s sleep.

After all, it was a school night.

It was hard to believe that only a couple of hours before, she had been stressed about school of all things. Now, she was fighting off yet another wave of nausea brought on by stumbling across a dead body deep in the preserve.

Well, half of one.

As soon as the vehicle began moving, trees rushing past her window in a dark blur of motion, she was trying to get a hold of Stiles. After two attempts in which the call merely rang through to his voicemail, she tucked her phone back into the pocket of her sport jacket with a frown and a huff. She would just have to wait and see if Scott knew whether Stiles was busy tonight.

Amber had hardly made it two steps into the entryway of the McCall house when Scott came barreling down the stairs, attempting to pull on a zip-up hoodie with one hand and wielding a baseball bat in the other. She opened her mouth to question him but before she could make a sound he shushed her aggressively, pushing her behind himself without explanation as he crept out the front door and onto the porch with an abundance of caution and visible nerves.

“Scott?!” She whispered aggressively, still receiving no answer beyond a frustrated wave of his hand signaling for her to be quiet.

She followed close behind, confused and mildly alarmed as she tried to imagine whatever threat Scott thought that he might find outside. She clung onto the hood of the boy's sweatshirt with one hand as she trailed close behind. Scott held the bat, ready to strike, as the two rounded the porch at the side of the house.

The rapidly dropping temperature over the previous half an hour had the breath puffing out from their mouths in foggy clouds in the dark. Scott relaxed his hold on the bat for a brief second as he peered down over the railing, inadvertently pulling Amber forward with him.

Suddenly, something large dropped down from the roof to dangle in front of them, both teens letting out a scream of alarm. Amber instinctively yanked on Scott's sweatshirt in an attempt to pull him back from the threat, but they both quieted upon recognizing the third scream coming from the person now hanging upside-down from the trellis at the roof of the porch.

“Stiles!” She and Scott both yelled in frustrated synchronization.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott continued immediately.

“You weren’t answering your phone!” Stiles yelled at Scott defensively. “And.. Okay, I know I wasn’t either.” He added sheepishly when he spotted Amber still hidden behind Scott. “Why do you have a bat?!” Stiles’ voice rose to a shrill level again.

As if only now remembering his weapon of choice was still clutched defensively above their heads, ready for an attack, Scott lowered the bat a small increment before speaking, “I thought you were a predator.” He explained simply.

“A pre-” Stiles spluttered, “Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.”

Amber felt her heart drop suddenly into her stomach as if it were made up of lead.

“For what?” Scott asked, his eyebrows scrunching in curiosity.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles explained at the same time Amber’s voice whispered a meek, “We found a body.”

Stiles clumsily dropped down from where he had been hanging upside-down, arms flailing as he fell from the roof and onto the ground below the porch in a clumsy heap of limbs. The boy stumbled a bit before he managed to get his footing and moved to stand upright.

Scott’s head pivoted back and forth between his two best friends, his eyes wide. “A dead body?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, Dumbass. A dead body.” Stiles scoffed, climbing up onto the porch to stand in front of them. He turned to Amber with a furrow between his brows, “Who's we? You found it?” He asked with growing excitement.

“Jason and I.” She supplied quietly.

“You mean like.. Murdered?” Scott interrupted, taking a step back to stand beside Amber instead of in front of her. He seemed to be stuck on the concept of the dead body being dead.

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.” Stiles said with wide eyes, like he found it all very exciting. Amber was beginning to feel queasy again.

“Hold on,” Scott said, “If they found the body, then what are they looking for?”

“That's the best part.” Stiles started, looking to Amber for assurance, or maybe some assistance in the reveal of the next bit of information. She only managed a deep breath after a moment, feeling truly sick as Stiles finished, “They only found half.”

“It was only half.”

Although they spoke at the same time, Amber's words had come out much quieter than Stiles, hardly a weak murmur. Hand beginning to cramp where she was still clutching tightly onto the fabric of Scott’s hood, she released it to flex her fingers a couple of times.

Stiles reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder, leaning in close, “We're going.” He announced firmly.

“Are we actually going to do this?” Scott asked, looking back and forth between them again.

“No.” Amber got out, though the heavy warmth of Stiles' hand through her windbreaker was already making her judgement fuzzy.

Stiles looked at Scott briefly before returning his attention to her, “How come you're the only one who gets to find a body, huh?” He slipped his hand down from her shoulder to grip at her elbow and cradled it softly.

“I don’t know how great you think finding a dead body was for me, but I assure you, it wasn't nearly as fun as whatever you're imagining.” Amber told Stiles.

He stayed silent for once, maintaining eye contact with her for a long minute. She tried to remain strong, she truly did. Amber broke eye contact to look at his face, her eyes flicking over each freckle and mole dotting his pale skin. Steadfastly refusing to let her eyes fall to his lips or drift back to his whiskey colored eyes, she could literally feel her resolve crumbling with every second that she looked at her best friend.

“I’m never going to be able to talk you assholes out of doing this, am I?” She asked quietly. The pit in her stomach felt as if it were expanding with the intent to swallow her whole as her eyes finally went back to his.

A stupidly sweet smile stretched across Stiles' face immediately as he realized he'd won and his hand trailed lower again, taking hold of her own and giving it a squeeze.

Her belly did a traitorous flip at the feeling of her hand in his own and she heaved a resigned sigh. She really didn’t want to have to find both halves of this body.

“We’re seriously doing this?” Scott repeated, sounding unsure.

“You're the ones always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles said, rifling through his backpack as they climbed out of his cramped Jeep. He triumphantly pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on, illuminating the preserve in a bright stream of light.

“Plenty has happened for me, today.” Amber reminded them, shielding her eyes until Stiles had lowered the flashlight to shine on the ground.

He put a hand at the small of Amber’s back as they ventured away from the Jeep, guiding her forward gently while he lit a path in front of them.

“And I was trying to get a good night’s sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott said.

Stiles addressed Scott first, “Right, ‘cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort. And you,” He said, shining the flashlight at Amber briefly before focussing it back in front of them while they made their way through the trees, “You get to find a body, I get to find a body, right? Fair's fair.”

“I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.” Scott said, bringing the conversation back around to himself and looking annoyingly smug.

“Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” Stiles laughed, his hand drifting to grip Amber's hip momentarily before it returned to the safety of her spine.

She reached up to reprimand Stiles with a gentle thwack on the back of the head as they walked, letting her hand fall to his elbow and pulling his arm from behind her, taking ahold of his hand for support instead as they walked. He began to move faster with his long stride and Amber allowed him pull her along while she attempted to keep up on her shorter legs.

It had grown colder still, their breath continuing to puff out in tiny clouds as the three hiked through the preserve, moving as quickly as they could while watching their step over rocks and fallen branches.

“Just out of curiosity.. Which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott finally asked.

Stiles stumbled, his steps faltering as he paused beside Amber, “Huh. I didn’t think about that.”

Both boys looked to her as they continued to move, waiting for an answer.

“You know what? You’ll find out if we find it. I refuse to indulge you both any more than I already am just by being here.” She huffed, taking a step away from the two of them while maintaining her hold on Stiles' hand.

“And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott followed up, nervously looking up into the trees surrounding them.

Amber took a hasty step back toward Stiles as her stomach tied itself tighter in knots at the thought, fearfully clutching Stiles' hand tighter in her grip.

“Also something I didn't think about.” Stiles replied.

“It's comforting to know you planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Scott panted as they dropped to nearly a crawl at a steep incline.

“I know.” Stiles grinned, carefully pulling Amber up with him as they scaled the slippery hill.

When Scott stopped to lean against a tree trunk, she paused and tugged on Stiles' arm to slow him as he tried to keep moving.

“Maybe the, uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” Scott said between choppy breaths.

Amber shot a brief glare toward Stiles in the dark, rubbing her free hand on Scott's arm in a comforting gesture as he pulled out his inhaler.

They continued on, following the light Stiles shined ahead of them until he suddenly dropped to the ground, dragging Amber down beside him and covering the bright beam shining out from his flashlight. In the dark, they could see more flashlights sweeping back and forth in the distance, illuminating the mist of rain that was beginning falling around them. They could hear search dogs huffing quiet noises between barks.

“Come on.” Stiles shot to his feet and took off before either of them could stop him and he pulled Amber's arm painfully as he took off, not yet relinquishing his grip on her hand.

“Stiles!” Scott and Amber both whisper-shouted at his back.

When her hand slipped from Stiles' as they raced after him in the dark, Amber squeaked unhappily, “Wait up!” She called out iman hushed voice.

“Stiles!” Scott called after him, “Stiles!”

The two moved as fast as they could, trying to keep up with their friend, but he'd gotten ahead of them. Amber huffed when her toe caught on a tree root and she grabbed onto Scott as she righted herself. She was still gripping onto Scott's arms and getting her feet back underneath her when she heard Stiles let out a cut off scream of alarm in the distance, shortly followed by the sound of dogs barking.

He had been spotted.

“Stay right there!” An officer shouted over the sound of the dog barking.

“Shit.” Amber whispered with wide eyes as Scott dragged her along to hide behind a large tree.

“Hang on, hang on. This little delinquent belongs to me.” They heard the Sheriff’s voice announce with disappointment.

“Dad. How're you doing?” Stiles greeted weakly.

“So. Do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” Sheriff Stilinski questioned.

“No,” Stiles laughed nervously, “Not the boring ones..”

Amber thumped her forehead against Scott's shoulder. “Idiot.” She whispered fondly, shaking her head.

“Now, where're your usual partners in crime? I thought after the night she’d had, Amber would've kept you away from this.”

She felt the heat of it when Scott took a quiet, shaky breath.

“Scott? Scott's home.” Stiles stuttered, “He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for first day back to school tomorrow, so.. Amber went home and now it's just me. In the woods.. Alone.”

“Scott!” The sheriff yelled out, causing them both to flinch from where they were huddled behind the tree, “Amber! You out there? Scott!” There was a pause during which Amber and Scott looked at one another nervously, eyes wide. “Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car and you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.”

Thunder rolled loudly over the sound of the Sheriff dragging Stiles and their only flashlight off into the distance. The mist from earlier had eased it's way into a drizzle during the encounter and Amber shivered violently as the cold rain began to seep into her clothes.

“Now what?” She asked quietly.

“We- Walk home, I guess.” Scott sighed.

They made their way back through the trees in what Amber could only hope was the right direction, arms coming up to attempt to rub warmth into her own biceps as they moved through the rain.

They both flinched and spun around in fear at the sound of an animal howling in the distance. Amber turned to Scott and they looked at one another with wide, scared eyes before they began walking again. Scott jerked and came to a stop again only a few minutes later when they heard a large bird flapping it's wings overhead in the trees, prompting Amber to walk straight into his back. She reached up to push him forward with hands on his shoulders.

“Come on.” She urged quietly through her own nerves.

Eventually, Scott slowed to a stop again and moved to take a puff from his inhaler, his breathing ragged from all of the hiking. As he brought the inhaler to his mouth, Amber heard the sound of twigs breaking, the sound growing louder at it rushed toward them.

Scott yelled, shoving his friend to the side before falling to the ground himself. Amber screamed as she smacked against the ground, scrambling to hide behind a tree as a stampede of deer came running through. She gasped as she watched the deer only narrowly avoid trampling Scott several times before they cleared.

“Scott,” She whispered in the dark, heart pounding in her ears, “God.. You okay?”

“I dropped my inhaler!” He answered frantically, pulling out his phone for a weak source of light as he raked his hands through the leaves underfoot.

Suddenly, he yelled out again and Amber took a step closer to her friend just in time to watch him stumble and fall down an incline, and then he was gone.

“Scott!” She ran to the place where he’d fallen but as she reached the hillside, she tripped over something large on the ground and tumbled down after him.

Twigs snapped and scratched at her skin as she rolled down the hill, scraping at her hips and back as her shirt rode up, the back of her head smacking down roughly on a large rock when she finally came to a stop at the bottom of the incline.

Scott's heavy breathing was loud in the silence that followed as he righted himself.

“Amber?” He whispered, moving through the leaves.

She moved to sit up but her vision swam and she was forced to drop her head back down to the rock beneath her with a painful thunk.

“Ow.” She moaned quietly.

A loud growling sounded close by and they were both immediately filled with a cold dread. She could hear Scott’s screams but couldn’t make herself move. She shivered both from the cold and from fear, her head throbbing painfully as her heartbeat picked up.

“Scott?” She called out after a moment, voice quiet.

His screaming had stopped and she heard the sound of twigs breaking and footfalls running into the distance until she could no longer hear them at all.

“Scott?” She tried once more, finding the strength to lift her head to look around her.

The forest remained silent.

She rolled onto her front, moving her arms underneath herself and pushing up onto her knees shakily, black spots danced in the corners of her vision but the preserve was so dark that it was difficult to tell if it was due to the throbbing in her head or lack of light.

Crawling toward a large tree, Amber moved to lean back against the trunk. She shakily lifted a hand to the back of her head and felt the warm wetness in the hair at her crown. She withdrew her hand and her fingers came back stained dark.

“Fuck.” She whispered into the trees, unsure what to do now.

She must’ve fallen asleep for a few minutes because suddenly, she found herself waking.

She groaned quietly when she felt the sharp pain in the back of her head, the wound immensely sore where she had it pressed against the trunk of the tree behind her. She pried her eyes open and saw a head of dark hair on the person who was knelt down in front of her.

She tried to lift her head to lessen the pressure on her injury, but her head felt heavy so soon after waking, and it lolled to the side instead. The movement stopped when a hand moved to catch her gently by cupping the side of her face. Her vision swam for a slow second afterward while the hand held her head steady.

She could hear a voice but it sounded muffled and distant, like she had cotton stuck in her ears.

“Scott?” Amber rasped softly.

The first thing she’d felt had been the ache in her head, but as she came to, she began to feel other things. She could feel the way her damp clothes clung to her skin as she shivered. Her whole body felt sore from rolling down the hill but nothing seemed to hurt enough to be broken.

The hand on the left side of her face moved to cup her chin and pressed their thumb into her jaw, shaking her head softly. She let out a quiet, unhappy noise when the movement made her vision swim again.

“Spinny.” She complained.

Amber lifted a hand up to reach for the person's face. When her cold fingertips landed on their cheek she could feel a light stubble covering the person’s sharp jawline.

“Not Scott,” She deduced to herself miserably. She widened her eyes at the mystery person comically for a moment in an attempt to clear her vision, “Definitely not Stiles.”

She let her hand drop to the person’s shoulder to steady herself and pulled her torso up to lean away from the rough bark of the tree.

“Your. Name.” The voice repeated slowly, voice sounding clearer to her ears now that the fuzz in her brain was clearing. The hand on her face squeezed softly and pressed warm fingers into her cheek with each word.

“Amber.” She told them.

Her vision was clearer now. As the rain passed, so had the clouds, and in the glow from the moonlight that now shined through the bare trees above them, she could see the person in front of her with minimal double vision — The incredibly handsome person in front of her.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” She whispered before she could stop herself, looking into the palest eyes she’d ever seen. She wondered absently whether they were blue or green in the daylight.

The guy snorted softly in amusement, shaking his head before regaining a stoic expression, “Turn your head so I can check what we’re dealing with.”

His voice was deep and gruff and incredibly soothing. He continued to gently cup her head in one hand as he examined the bloody patch at the back of her skull, his hands the same rough yet soft combination as his voice.

“What seems to be the damage, Mister Doctor, Sir?” She asked after a moment, flinching when he prodded gently at the swollen area.

“Doesn’t look like you need stitches.” He told her, leaning back to give her some space and wiping his hands on his dark jeans, “Don’t think you hit it hard enough for brain injury either, but it’ll probably hurt for a couple days.”

“Yay for no lasting brain damage.” Amber cheered quietly as she shivered, missing the warmth of his hand against her cheek.

“You should get home. Get some rest.” The guy reached his hands out to her again, gripping one of her own and helping her to her feet with a firm grip at her elbow, “You shouldn’t even be out here in the first place. It’s private property, y’know. This isn’t a part of the preserve.”

They started to move through the woods slowly. Amber’s legs felt shaky and her butt was numb from sitting on the cold ground for so long, but her mystery doctor had moved one of his arms around her waist, supporting a majority of her weight as he maneuvered her feet smoothly over fallen branches and tree roots.

“It’s dark and my flashlight abandoned me,” She defended, “Then I tripped. Then I was abandoned again. Jesus, I hope Scott made it home okay.”

She looked to her doctor-helper with wide eyes, suddenly remembering the blood chilling sound of Scott’s scream before he had run away from her.

“There’s no one else in the preserve, now.” He assured her, “It’s just the two of us. So, whoever he is, I’m sure he made it home, just like you should be doing.”

“Yes, sir.” She mumbled reluctantly with her eyes still glued to his face, trusting that if she tripped he wouldn’t let her fall. She swore she saw his lips twitch into a brief but genuine smile before he shook his head, continuing their hike out of the forest.

“Do you have someone you can call for a ride?” He asked, “I didn’t drive here.”

Amber found herself wondering how he’d gotten out to the preserve on the edge of town if he hadn’t driven, but didn’t voice her thoughts.

“I, uh, yeah. I can try.” She decided. She pulled out her phone to see that less than an hour had passed since their run in with the Sheriff’s Deputies. She couldn’t have been unconscious for more than twenty minutes.

Amber sent a quick text to Scott to check he’d truly made it home, but paused before calling anyone. There was no way she was calling her brother to pick her up at nearly midnight, so she pulled up the number she’d called twice earlier in the evening and hoped for an answer this time.

The man beside her guided her over a cluster of rocks with a hand at her elbow as she brought her phone up to her ear and listened to the dull ringing.

“Amber! You good? You and Scott make it home okay?” Stiles greeted, picking up after only the second ring.

“Not exactly.” She muttered, her phone beeping as a text came through and she read the message from Scott.

Just got home. In bed. Need to talk to u and Stiles before school tomorrow.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she read and reread the message. She was glad Scott was safe at home but was he not at all worried about her?

“What do you mean? You guys okay?” Stiles asked nervously through the phone.

Amber smiled at the stranger beside her in silent thanks as he kept her from tripping over another rock.

“Scott’s gone. I guess he’s home now but I’m still in the preserve. I think I’m almost out to the road-” She said with question in her voice. The man next to her nodded silently and she continued, “Yeah, almost out to the road, but-”

“I’m on my way-” Stiles said quickly. She could hear movement on the other end of the line before his keys jingling loudly and the telltale bang of his front door closing.

“Your dad still working?”

“Yeah, I doubt he’ll be home ‘til morning.” He told her as the door to the Jeep slammed and she heard the loud rumble of the car coming to life, “Just stay with me and I’ll find you when you get out to the road, alright? Let me know when you’re out.”

“I can actually see it now.” She said, as the trees began to clear and she caught sight of the pavement ahead of her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be right there, alright?” His voice was laced with worry and she sighed softly into the phone.

“Stiles, I’m fine, okay? Don’t speed to get to me.”

She heard him huff in response, which meant he was probably already going too fast as he drove the winding roads that led out to the preserve.

The hand on her arm had released her when they got closer to the main road and Amber looked to thank the man next to her but he was gone. She spun in a slow circle as her eyebrows furrowed, thinking that surely he couldn’t have gone far, but he’d vanished.

She looked back to the street after a few minutes and could see headlights shining bright in the distance, reflecting off the telephone wires and the wet pavement.

“Stiles, I see a car coming.”

“Okay, okay, I’m slowing down.”

The car approaching did, indeed slow down until there was a blue Jeep stopped in the road in front of her. Stiles threw the door open and ran from the car as she crossed she street and he didn’t waste a second before he was throwing his arms around her shoulders.

“You okay? I can’t believe Scott left you by yourself.”

His voice was muffled in her hair as he pressed his face into the top of her head. One of his hands trailed up from her shoulders to cup the back of her head and she flinched, whining in pain when he pressed against where she’d hit her head earlier.

“What happened?” He asked immediately, pulling back to look at her. When he caught sight of the red stain on his hand in the glow of the headlights, his eyes went wide, spinning her around quickly to look at the spot he’d touched. “Jesus, Am, what happened?”

“I’m fine, honestly. I’m pretty sure it’s barely bleeding anymore. I tripped and hit my head, but I’m okay. Could use an aspirin or ten, though.”

Stiles spun her back around and looked at her like he didn’t quite believe her, but guided her to the passenger side of the vehicle silently. She climbed inside and he was leaning in to buckle her up before she could begin to do it herself.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He asked softly, letting his hand linger on her thigh after getting the buckle clicked into place.

“I’m fine,” She promised quietly, flushing under his gentle attention, “Can we just go to your house? If I get caught sneaking in at this point, Jason’s gonna kill me. I’m better off sleeping somewhere else.”

“Yeah, ’course.” He pulled back and gently closed the door before rounding the vehicle and climbing behind the wheel. Turning them around and heading home.

When they got to the Stilinski house, they went straight to Stiles’ room and he closed the door out of habit despite them being the only ones home.

“Let me see your head again so I can get a better look.” Stiles demanded as he approached her.

In the bright light of his bedroom, Amber could now see how dirty she was, her athletic leggings covered in mud streaks and her hands much the same. She could only imagine how filthy her face was. And her hair hair where it was pulled back in a now messy braid.

His hands were gentle as he moved her hair to look at the bump on the back of her head, but she still flinched when he poked at it delicately.

“Sorry.” He apologized from behind her, stroking a hand down the side of her hair.

“It’s fine.” She promised again, “I should shower though. Seriously.”

“Yeah, of course.” He said easily, squeezing her arm before traipsing back into the hallway and to the linen closet, pulling out a clean towel and holding it out to her.

She thanked him and made her way to the bathroom before closing the door behind her. She stripped out of her damp, dirty clothes, undoing the braid in her hair and combing her fingers through it softly. She turned the water on and let it heat up before climbing under the spray. She watched dirt and small bits of leaf trailed down onto the shower floor as she rinsed her hair.

She used the men’s shower products that littered the shower, scrubbing down with the masculine smelling body wash twice. She winced when it stung the tiny scrapes on her hips, and proceeded to gently shampoo around the bump at the back of her head.

When she finished, Amber climbed out and dried the excess water from her hair roughly before drying her body. She secured the towel she’d been given around her tight once she was no longer dripping.

She knocked softly on Stiles’ bedroom door as she made her way back over, not wanting to interrupt him if he was getting changed. The door swung open quickly and Amber jumped in surprise at the sight of Stiles standing in front of her in his doorway, already changed into pajama pants and a tshirt.

He gaped silently as his eyes trailed to where her towel was hooked loosely at the top of her breasts. A small bead of water dripped from the nape of her neck in a slow trail past her collarbones and into her cleavage before disappearing beneath the towel and he couldn’t help but swallow loudly, blinking himself out of his stupor and returning his eyes to the safety of his friend’s face.

“Am I allowed in, or have I been exiled to the hallway?” She laughed when he continued to block the doorway after a few moments.

“Right! Sorry!” He jumped back, opening the door wider and allowing her entrance into the room.

She continued to smile as she stepped past him, a blush rising to her cheeks as she thought about the look on his face as his eyes had trailed down to her chest.

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” She asked, hand coming up to fiddle with where the towel was secured around her.

“Sure, yeah, what do you want?” He rushed to his dresser and opened a drawer already rifling through it.

“Any tshirt would be good.” She said, biting her lip as she thought about the underwear she’d left in the bathroom. She’d been wearing them on her run earlier and grimaced at the thought of putting them back on.

Stiles triumphantly produced a clean shirt and threw it toward the bed before looking at her, his eyes stuck on where she had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“Would- Would it be weird if I asked for boxers or something?” She asked awkwardly.

“N-No, no I can-“ He slammed the drawer he’d procured the tshirt from and opened another, moving things around aggressively in search of a pair of underwear for her. It took longer than it had for the shirt, but after a minute his hand re-emerged from the drawer with a pair of checkered boxers in his hands and a flush on his cheeks. “Here.”

Amber accepted the shorts, her hand brushing his softly in the exchange and she gulped.

It was hardly the first time she’d slept at one of the boy’s houses, definitely not the first time she’d borrowed a shirt, but there was something significantly more intimate about doing so after a shower — about doing it and not having an article of her own clothing to separate Stiles’ clothes from her naked body.

She toyed with the underwear in her hands, “Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I uh, I can’t get changed if you’re standing right in front of me.”

This seemed to startle him into action and he blushed, coughing into the back of his hand awkwardly in an attempt to hide it.

“Right, I’ll go- I’ll get you some Aspirin!” He said before moving around her and closing the door behind him.

She shook her head and took a deep breath, dropping her towel and drying herself one final time before pulling on the boxers, rolling them twice at the waist to get the fit better before she paused, distracted. Curling her fingers into the material at her hips, she had a thought.

Her mind was racing, imagining Stiles’ own naked body beneath the shorts that were against her bare skin, now. The thought sent a flush creeping up her neck and a tingling heat to her gut.

She swallowed loudly in the quiet room.

Stepping toward the bed, she picked up the basic shirt Stiles had gotten out for her. She moved her arms through the holes and was using her hands to stretch it over her wet hair in an attempt to avoid the sore spot at the back of her head when she heard the door open behind her. She quickly pulled the shirt down over her back and turned to face Stiles where he was standing frozen in the doorway with a glass of water in one hand and two Aspirin cupped in the other.

“I- Sorry,” He said quickly, “I should’ve knocked? I don’t know why I didn’t knock.”

“No worries, Sti.” She told him softly as she pulled her damp hair out from beneath the collar of the shirt. She moved to take the painkillers and the water from him with a smile before sipping from the glass and swallowing the pills.

“I also got out a new toothbrush. Left it by the sink. Figured you’d need one.” Stiles told her as he watched her swallow down the tablets.

“God, yeah. Brushing your teeth with your finger is just- Not the same.” She shuddered at the thought, “I’ll be right back, then.”

Grabbing her towel from the floor, she went back across the hallway into the bathroom. The mirror was still clouded with condensation from her shower and she wiped it clear with the damp towel before putting it in the hamper tucked behind the door.

She brushed her teeth quickly, collecting her dirty heap of clothes from the bathroom floor before she made her way back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Stiles was already standing at the bed, pulling down the blankets and settling into the open side, already armed with the knowledge from previous sleepovers that she preferred to be on the side closest to the wall.

She moved to crawl across his legs to the other side of the bed and climbed underneath the covers, settling down onto her side facing the wall, not wanting to put pressure on the back of her head while she slept. Stiles quietly settled down next to her after switching off the lamp beside the bed.

“You smell good.” He whispered to her in the dark after a moment.

“I smell like you.” She laughed, “I used your shampoo and your body wash.”

“I know.” He said quietly.

She waited a full minute for him to continue, but he said nothing else. She turned to smile into the pillow before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Too soon, morning came and they woke to the sound of Stiles’ alarm clock trilling loudly. Amber cracked her eyes open to find herself on her back, head tilted toward where best friend slept beside her.

During the night, one of his arms had been thrown over her chest, his forearm rose and fell in time with each of her breaths where it was laying across her breasts. He was sprawled out on his stomach, pillow tucked over his head, still sleeping soundly with his pillow muffling the obnoxious beeping.

“Stiles.” She groaned loudly, nudging her friend with her leg beneath the duvet, “Turn it off.”

He woke with a snort, moving to push himself upright with one arm against the mattress and the other where it was still pressed to her chest. He reached out a hand and clicked the alarm off.

“Ow,” She gasped, jerking away when his elbow put the brunt of his weight on her left breast, “Boobs, Stiles. Jesus.”

Stiles’ head snapped around to look at her as he pulled his arm away from where it had been digging into her. His eyes were wide, flicking down to her tshirt covered chest quickly before they traveled up to her sleepy face.

“Sorry.”

She sighed in response, reaching a hand up to sleepily cup the injury with a sleepy frown. It didn’t hurt anymore, the pain gone as quickly as it had come, but she covered the breast protectively for a moment anyway out of principle.

“Uh.. How’s your head?” He asked after pulling his eyes away from where her small hand was touching herself through the shirt. His shirt.

“Better than last night. Probably should take something for it before we head out, though.”

When Stiles crawled out of bed, Amber rolled onto her stomach and smothered herself in the pillow he’d been using, taking a deep breath of the scent under the guise of still being tired. She stayed in bed as Stiles went to shower and get dressed, waiting until he returned before she got up to use the bathroom and brush her teeth.

They stopped at Amber’s house before heading to the school so she could change out of her borrowed sleep clothes and get her backpack.

“Fifteen minutes!” Stiles yelled out the window of the Jeep in warning as she ran inside.

“Time me!” She dared over her shoulder.

She ran upstairs to her bedroom, stripping out of Stiles’ clothes and quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater within two minutes of rushing through the front door.

Using her hair brush, she removed the tangles from the ends of her long, ashy waves, combing through the top with her fingers until her flyaways settled.

Still rushing, she applied deodorant beneath her sweater with one hand and tossed her books into her bag with the other before zipping it shut and throwing it over her shoulder.

The girl ran down the hall to the bathroom and spritzed herself with the perfume on the vanity, fumbling to collect a tube of mascara and her eyelash curler in her hands before jogging back downstairs.

As she passed through the kitchen, she grabbed two apples from the basket hanging on the wall without slowing and continued on until she was out the front door and back at the vehicle where Stiles was waiting.

“Seven minutes.” Stiles told her with an impressed grin as she climbed back into the passenger side of the Jeep. “I think that’s actually a new record.”

She smiled, shoving one of the apples toward his face. She grinned harder when he automatically opened his mouth wide and sunk his teeth into it to take it from her while he backed out of the driveway.

Pulling down the sun visor, she curled her eyelashes and applied mascara quickly before shoving the items into her backpack where it sat on the floor between her feet.

“Dunno how you can do that in a moving car.” Stiles said through a mouthful of fruit, earning a laugh from her in response.

As she grabbed her own apple from where she’d put it for safekeeping between her legs, she looked over to where Stiles was steering the car with his left hand and shifting gears with his right between bites of the fruit. She ate her breakfast as they drove, her eyes bouncing between her friend’s long fingers where they wrapped around the gear shift and his mouth as he munched on his apple, too distracted to notice her ogling.

Stiles was finishing the last bite as he turned into the parking lot at the school, pulling the car into a spot and shutting off the Jeep before he turned to face the girl beside him. “Scott’s got something crazy to show us before class.”

“What?” She asked in confusion, climbing out of the Jeep and pulling her bag over her shoulders as she rounded the car to meet him, “He just told me he wanted to talk. What the hell’s he got to show us?”

Stiles rested a hand at the base of her neck, above her backpack, and guided her as they approached the school.

“Got bit by an animal last night, I guess.” He told her, “Says it’s pretty nasty.”

“Shit.” She said quietly, eyes scanning the bike rack as they passed to see if Scott was there yet, but not seeing his bicycle.

“Deserves it.” Stiles muttered, his hand gliding from her neck over to her opposite shoulder as he wrapped his arm loosely around her, “For leaving you alone in the woods. Hope he has to get a rabies shot and everything.”

“Stiles.” She scolded, “If he got bit by something, I’m pretty sure it happened before he left me.” She said softly, reaching her hand up to pat his where it was curled around her shoulder, “I heard him yell and then he was gone. He was probably in shock.”

“Yeah, well.” Stiles muttered as they came to a stop outside the front of the building to wait for Scott’s arrival, “I stand by what I said.”

She shook her head at him, appreciating the protectiveness, but more concerned about their other friend at the moment.

Only a few minutes passed before Stiles perked up and was releasing her shoulder as Scott came to stand in front of them.

“Okay. Let’s see this thing.” Stiles said excitedly, bouncing on his toes.

They both watched with rapt attention and leaned in close as Scott tugged up his shirt to reveal a large piece of bloody gauze on his side. The size of the bite was significantly bigger than either of them had been expecting. Amber gasped at the sight but Stiles looked absolutely thrilled.

“Ooh!” He said excitedly, reaching out to touch it before getting his hand slapped away by Amber, the girl pulling his hand back and keeping it trapped in her own.

“Yeah. Woah.” Scott said blankly, pulling his shirt back down, “It was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles questioned incredulously as they slowly walked down the path to the school building.

“Uh-Huh.”

“No,” Stiles said immediately, “Not a chance.”

“I heard a wolf howling.” Scott looked past Stiles’ body to make eye contact with Amber, “Did you hear it?”

“I mean, I don’t know that it was a wolf,” She said slowly, shrugging and shaking her head, “Sorry, Scott.”

“No,” Stiles repeated, looking at Scott, “You didn’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘No I didn’t’? How do you know what I heard?”

“Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in like sixty years.” Stiles explained, shaking his head. He pulled Amber and himself to a stop as they turned to face Scott at the staircase in front of the school.

“Really?” Both Scott and Amber asked at the same time.

“Yes, Really.” Stiles told them, his eyes bouncing between his two friends. He squeezed Amber’s hand where they were still connected, “There are no wolves in California.”

Amber took in the information and reached down out of habit to check the time on her cell phone, only to find it missing. The pocket of her jeans decidedly empty.

“Stiles, is the Jeep unlocked? I think I left my phone.”

The boy reached his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans and produced his collection of keys, a tiny green bottle opener bright in the jumble of metal. Amber plucked them from his outstretched hand and rushed off without a word to retrieve her phone, only hearing the beginning of what Scott said next.

“Alright, well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf-“

Unlocking the passenger door, she quickly reached in to snatch the device from where it must have slipped out of her pocket and into the seat on the ride to school.

As she made her way back to the building, she fell into step with the beautiful strawberry blonde beside her as she made her way back toward the building, “Hey, Lyds.” Amber smiled, “How was break?”

“Oh the usual," Lydia narrowed her eyes. “We should’ve hung out, though.”

“Soon.” Amber promised her friend as they approached where Scott and Stiles were still in conversation at the bottom of the stairs, the latter’s voice gaining in volume the closer they got.

“-seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since.. Since the birth of Amber Callisto.” He finished, catching sight of their friend and grinning at her cutely, “Hey, Amber, you look- Like you’re gonna walk right past me with Lydia.”

The girls passed by, but while Lydia’s eyes remained focused on the path in front of her, Amber shot her best friends a sweet smile over her shoulder, Stiles’ car keys still gripped in her hand.

“You’re whipped, dude.” She thought she heard Scott mutter before hearing what was definitely the sound of someone being hit followed by Scott’s quiet whine of pain.

Amber couldn’t keep the smile off her face at her friend’s antics, shaking her head as she continued to her locker to collect her things for first period. She turned her head when Stiles passed her locker to get down the hall to his own, her eyes glued to the back of his buzzed head as she pulled out her notebook.

She jumped when Scott stepped into her field of vision and blocked her sight of Stiles.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you alone real quick.” He said, his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack nervously as he avoided her eyes.

“Sure, what’s up?” Amber clamped her notebook between her legs as she reached into her bag to pull out her chemistry textbook to stuff it into her locker where it could stay until third period.

“I just, I wanted to apologize. For last night. I-I don’t really remember getting home, or cleaning up the blood, or even texting you before I fell asleep. It-it’s all kind of a blur.”

“Scott, it’s okay,” She promised, turning her body to face him as she freed up her hands. She reached up to loosely tangle her fingers in the long hair at the side of his head, “You were in shock, okay? I’m not mad at you.”

“Right, I just, I needed to make sure you knew, y’know, that I’d never leave you behind.”

Amber’s grip on his hair tightened and she pressed up into her toes to lean her forehead against his. “I know.” She told him with a smile, knocking their heads together softly before shoving his head away and pulling back to gather her books for English into her arms.

She made her way to the English classroom and slid into her seat, smiling at Stiles where he was sitting at the desk behind her. She pulled out a pencil and tapped it quietly on her desk top as her eyes skimmed over the words printed on the paper in front of her until class started.

Students trickled in slowly, Scott going to his own seat beside Amber. When only a few empty desks remained, Mr. Anderson stood from his chair and moved to begin writing on the blackboard behind his desk.

“As you all know, there indeed, was a body found in the woods last night.” The teacher started, “And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you, that the police have a suspect in custody-”

Amber whirled around to face Stiles, Scott doing the same, but the former shook his head. The Sheriff hadn’t even returned home by the time they’d left for school that morning, so there was no way for him to have obtained the information.

“-which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining the semester.”

Amber turned to face forward again and slouched in her seat as she looked through the paper Mr. Anderson had left on their desks, reading through the syllabus and jotting down notes in the margins as she went. Her attention was torn away only for a moment to lean her head back and see Stiles with a pen in his teeth, using a yellow highlighter on his own paper. She grinned at him from her upside-down position before returning to her notes.

“Class,” A voice cut through the silence in the classroom, the students all looked to see their Vice Principal standing at the front of the room with a beautiful brunette. “This is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

The girl, Allison, was nervously fiddling with the end of the thin scarf she had wrapped around her neck. She smiled, looking at the ground and making her way to the back of the room to sit in the seat behind Scott.

Amber watched as Scott turned to face Allison, pen between his fingers in offering. Both girls’ faces clouded in confusion before Allison smiled softly and took the pen from Scott’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks.”

Amber watched in awe at the way Scott continued staring at the new girl for just a moment too long before turning back to face the front of the room with a grin on his face.

“Are you staying to watch tryouts today?” Stiles asked Amber as he came to a stop where she was standing at Scott’s locker later that day after classes ended.

“Yeah, of course.” She told him with a grin, “Gotta watch my boys make first line, don’t I?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, engulfing her face in the palm of his large hand and playfully pushing her head away as she cackled.

“Can someone tell me how ‘new girl’ is here all of five minutes, and she’s already hanging with Lydia’s clique?” A girl from their English class asked as she came to stand behind Stiles.

“Lydia’s really not so bad. She’s a completely different person when you get to know her.” Amber defended.

Stiles ignored his friend and turned to the girl, “Because she’s hot.” He stated, “Beautiful people heard together.” He flicked Amber on the nose after his statement and she furrowed her brows. She rubbed at her nose before leaving them beside Scott’s locker and making her way across the hall where Allison, Jackson, and Lydia were standing.

“Um, I can’t. It’s family night this Friday.” Allison was saying as Amber reached the group, “Thanks for asking.”

“You sure?” Jackson pushed, “Everyone’s going after the scrimmage.”

“You mean like football?” Allison asked innocently, eyes drifting to Amber and smiling.

Amber shook her head at the girl, about to answer when Jackson’s voice cut in again.

“Football’s a joke in Beacon.” He laughed, “The sport here’s lacrosse. We’ve won the state championship for the past three years.”

“Because of a certain captain.” Lydia added, smiling at her boyfriend.

“Takes a whole team to win!” Amber said sweetly, her thoughts drifting to Scott and Stiles warming the bench for the entire season the year before.

Jackson rolled his eyes at her before returning his attention to the new girl, “Well, we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don’t have anywhere else-“

“Well I was going to-“

“Perfect!” Lydia interrupted what was likely to be an excuse from Allison, “You're coming.” Lydia and Jackson wandered off down the hallway, leaving Allison stunned in their wake.

“It’s actually kind of fun to watch.” Amber smiled, “I’m going too. You, Lydia, and me can all sit together, if you want. But, if you really don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. Lydia honestly won’t be mad. She doesn’t realize the force behind her own words sometimes.”

“No, I-I’ll stay and watch.” Allison decided.

The two girls caught up with Lydia on their way to the lacrosse field and the three of them settled down on a set of bleachers on the side of the pitch.

Amber smiled and waved when Scott turned to look at where they were sitting, but he paid no attention to his best friend, his eyes glued to the darker-haired brunette beside her. Scott’s gaze was torn away by Coach Finstock throwing a lacrosse stick with a larger net into the boy’s hands along with a new helmet.

“McCall! You’re in goal.” Coach told him.

“I’ve never played.” Amber heard Scott defend, clutching the new stick in his hands.

“I know,” Coach said, “Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing. Get ‘em energized! Fired up!”

Amber’s shoulders slumped slightly. She knew that Scott had worked his ass off over the last year to try and improve his skills, but he’d never practiced in goal. She was unsure how her friend could attempt to impress the coach if he was being thrown into a new position just to make the rest of the team feel better about themselves.

“What about me?” Scott asked.

“Try not to take any in the face.” Coach supplied, reaching a hand up to slap Scott’s cheek softly before turning to the rest of the players around the field, “Let’s go! Come on!”

Amber rubbed her hands together in an attempt to keep them warm in the cold, winter air of the afternoon. She watched Stiles settle onto the bench, putting his helmet on the ground between his feet. He craned his neck to look for her on the crowded bleachers and grinned when he found her.

Shooting him a thumbs up and a smile, she waved before he turned his attention back to the field. Amber watched Scott make his way into the goal, helmet on his head and the goalie stick clutched in his hands.

“Who’s that?” Allison asked, looking at where Scott was waiting.

“Him?” Lydia asked, “I’m not sure who he is. Why?”

Amber rolled her eyes at her friend, about to cut in when Allison spoke again, sounding self-conscious.

“He’s, just- He’s in our English class.”

Allison turned her attention to Amber in question and Amber smiled at the girl’s lack of subtlety before the whistle blew loudly, interrupting them.

Their attention went to the field and Amber watched Scott in confusion as he clutched at his ears over the thick plastic that covered them. He looked like he was in pain and Amber rose slightly from her seat, debating going over to check on her friend.

Before she could move, another player walked toward the goal, stopping ten yards away and lobbing the ball as hard as he could at her friend. Amber flinched when Scott immediately took the ball to the head. It thunked loudly against the plastic of his helmet before he fell to the ground in the goal. Players on the field laughed at his pain and Amber slumped back to a seated position with a frown, seeing Stiles make a similar movement where he sat on the bench in front of them.

“Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!” Someone on the field yelled.

Scott began to pull himself up, getting ready for the next player.

“Scott McCall.” Amber finally recovered enough to tell Allison, leaning close to give a small amount of privacy from Lydia. “He’s one of my best friends. Very much single.. Y’know, if you’re interested.”

Allison blushed and smiled, but refused to look at the face of the girl sitting next to her.

Another player ran up on the goal, throwing the ball to the left corner and straight into the net of Scott’s stick.

“Yes!” Amber squeaked in excitement.

Scott looked at the ball he was holding for a moment as if surprised he’d caught it at all.

“Yeah!” Stiles called out after a few seconds had passed, turning to look at Amber behind him for a moment and also wearing a look of pleased surprise on his face.

The third player in line rushed forward, shooting the ball low at Scott’s feet, but the ball was again, miraculously stopped from reaching the goal by Scott’s stick.

Stiles and Amber both yelped in surprise, the latter’s hands going above her head as she squealed excitedly.

Scott proceeded to catch every ball that was thrown at him, letting no goals pass as his friends watched on in amazement.

“He seems like he’s pretty good.” Allison observed.

“Yeah, very good.” Lydia agreed, impressed.

“He’s been practicing like crazy.” Amber supplied, unable to wipe the proud grin off her face.

They all watched as Jackson stepped forward, moving to the front of the line and readying himself for a shot. His feet came off the ground as he launched the ball toward the goal.

Scott caught that one too.

Stiles shot out of his seat when he yelled, his arms outstretched as he spun to look at the people around them, ensuring that they’d all seen the save.

“That is our friend!” Stiles announced loudly, looking toward Amber on the bleachers and pointing to where Scott was standing on the field. She nodded at him with an incredulous laugh.

Scott was good.

#I've posted this on ao3 but I've read so many fics on here lately I thought I should post here too #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles #stiles stilinski x oc #selenophiles #1x01 #*

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youcantkillamutant · 1 year

Text

Total Alphahole

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Crescent City (SJM)

Pairing: Tristan Flynn x Ithan Holstrom x Fem!Reader

Summary: The first time you met Tristan Flynn, you thought he was a total Alphahole. After a few months of knowing him, you realized that Tristan Flynn really wasn’t an alphahole, and your body took notice. A lot of fucking notice. For Urd’s sake. Not to mention the absolute sweetheart that is Ithan fucking Holstrom. Cthona save you.

Warnings: Mentions of attempted drugging, violence (sparring, no blood), smut, slow-ish burn (?).

Rating: 18+ (honestly, 21+) ONLY.

Words: 11K+

A/N: I really have no explanation for this. I had a dream about the last scene and spent all day (and night) writing this out? No mention of Ariadne in this one but do not get it twisted, her and Flynn are absolutely mates I just don’t know how to write a Fae having sex with a dragon. I’m simply not that evolved. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Honestly CC2 fucked me up and down and I cannot stop thinking about it so I needed some related but non-related fluff and this happened. This is my first time writing in this fandom, so be nice. Don’t like it don’t read it and all that jazz. Not beta’d we die like men. 😘 I own nothing, all characters belong to SJM.

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The first time you met Tristan Flynn, you thought he was an alphahole. You’d just moved to the city, dying to live outside of a 5 mile radius of your parents and Lunathion welcomed you with open arms. It also helped that your best friend, Marc was in the city. He brought his (then new) boyfriend, Declan to help you move your many, many plants into your tiny, tiny, tiny first apartment. You’d liked Declan, and you still do, but that first day, he made an impression. After all, you’d been friends with Marc for over 50 years, you knew his type. Declan Emmett was so not his type. That’s the first thing that made you exhale in relief when Marc introduced you. For a decade or so, he’d been addicted to blondes that broke his heart, but Declan had burnt red hair, cheekbones that only the fae could possess and an oddly kind smirk.

You could tell he came from money, if the subtle labels on his clothes, ridiculously amazing smelling aftershave and generally unhurried posture told you anything. You glanced at Marc while you shook Declan’s hand, and waved them into your shoebox of a place, fighting a wince when it was crowded with the three of you. You weren’t ashamed of the place, Hel, you’d come from money and power of your own, but you hadn’t wanted that in Lunathion. You’d wanted your own little oasis, and with the design plan you had for every square inch of the place, you knew you’d get it. When Dec clapped his hands together and asked where to start, you knew Marc would propose to the man. And if he didn’t, you probably would. No shade, but Marc had never dated a man who would volunteer for any sort of hard work, or any sort of work at all really. Not when Marc could do anything and everything for them. Which he did, to his detriment, for a decade.

Shaking away the thoughts, you led them down a winding staircase to the lot in the back with a moving truck idling, slid open the back door, and prayed to Urd that everything would fit. Declan rubbed his hands together, cataloguing everything in the space like he was piecing together a puzzle. Marc pulled you to his side and dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

“Just let him lead the way on this one sweets. He loves a good puzzle.” He let out a contented sigh, and you grinned up at your best friend, Hel, brother for all intents and purposes, nodding.

It turned out that the two males actually had no intention of letting you help them move your stuff into your place. The second you grabbed for the cabinet, Marc nudged you out of the way and lifted the whole thing with ease. Declan wasn’t any better, only grunting “all good honey” when you asked if he needed help carrying anything. You rolled your eyes after you received that answer for the third time, and padded the four steps it took to get from the living room to the kitchen. If they weren’t going to let you help move your stuff into your own apartment you’d make them something to take home with them. You weren’t deluding yourself into thinking you could make enough food for a male fae and leopard shifter without going astronomically over-budget. Cake? You checked your fridge and pantry, painfully bare in comparison to what you were used to back home. Cookies it is.

You popped in headphones, and lost yourself in the familiar comfort of measuring, sifting, cracking, pouring, mixing and finally, sliding a tray of dough into the oven. You heard a bit of raucous laughter, even through your music, and pulled your headphones out, praying you didn’t actually have noisy neighbors. There were horror stories about loud neighbors in the city. You couldn’t get away from them, and certainly not with Vanir hearing. Thankfully, you recognized the laughter. Well most of it. Marc’s cackle met with Declan’s low chuckle, and danced, but there was another laugh, silky, low and…

“Seriously Marc, I thought this was your best friend? Hel you said she was like a little sister, so why the Hel is she living in this dump?” Your eyebrows pulled inward, guard instantly up. This apartment obviously wasn’t any sort of paradise, but it was yours. “Seriously, I wouldn’t let my worst enemy in this place. I might not even let the Autumn King in here man. I’m pretty sure this place was on the county list to be condemned for Urd’s sake!” Anger began simmering in your stomach. Anger, and something else, because even though this guy was an alphahole, his voice was…really fucking sexy.

“Unlike you Flynn, I don’t try control the females in my life.” There was a sharp laugh from Declan before he exclaimed “What females?” This Flynn person didn’t like that very much at all, if his grunt was anything to go off of.

“Shut the fuck up you dicks. I’ll have you know that I’m not controlling. Not even a little.” Their voices were getting closer to the door by now.

“Uh-huh.” Declan intoned as he crossed into the living room.

“Oh for Urd’s sake! I only brought this up because this is literally the worst district in the city, and I thought you’d be more concerned for her safety, since you care about her that much.” You stepped out from the kitchen, hands on your hips, and peered up and up, and up at the man. You weren’t short, Hel, you were just a touch above average height! But this male…Flynn, was tall, and big with deliciously broad shoulders. Burning fucking Solas. If the apartment felt crowded with three people, it was downright packed when a guy with shoulders like Flynn squeezed himself in.

“I assure you, I can take care of myself.” Flynn raised one perfectly groomed brow and slid his gaze down your frame.

“You’re tiny. I’m amazed you made it to the city alone at all.” Tiny? Tiny?! Never in your life had a male called you tiny. For Urd’s sake, most males you’d been with wondered when you were gonna ‘lose those extra pounds on your belly. And arms. And ass.’ You were not tiny. And you certainly wouldn’t let this alphahole make you feel like it. Your lip curled up in a snarl, but before you could snap a reply, the timer for the cookies sounded. So instead of ending your first day in Lunathion with a murder charge, you scowled at Flynn and his stupid shiny hair, and his stupid perfect skin and stalked the four steps into your kitchen to turn off the oven and remove the cookies to cool.

“Are those your—”

“Spiced butter cookies? Why yes Marc, they are.” This was a game we’d played every time you made the things. It was your grandmother’s recipe, one of three you’d saved from the reckless hand of your parents, who’d thrown everything they could into the hearth after she’d died.

“Did you use the—”

“Best butter from Nidaros? Why yes Marc, yes I did.” Nidarosian butter was hard to come by back home, but here? Let’s just say that you’d scoped out the best grocery markets in the city way before you decided to move here. After all, if you couldn’t find Nidarosian butter, Lunathion would not be a city worth living in. Luckily, they had plenty of the sweet, perfectly salted, creamy butter and it was the first thing you’d stocked the fridge with when you arrived this morning.

“And you baked it with—” This time you answered with a posh accent from your hometown. Rounded vowels and elongated consonants of the richest idiots in your county.

“Love and care? Obviously! What do you take me for?” You and Marc cackled then, at your ridiculous accent and at the questions you went through every time you made these. And maybe you laughed a little in relief too, recognizing that even in this new city, you and Marc hadn’t changed. Not one bit. “Seriously though Marc, thank you for this. And Declan, thank you for masterminding the move. I really appreciate your help.” Declan nodded in your direction, but he was busy looking (gazing was more like it) at Marc, amusement and tenderness dancing in his eyes. “Just give me a second to pack these up.”

You used a bit of your power to cool the cookies while you dropped them into two boxes. You had no intention of giving any cookies to Flynn. And like thinking his name summoned his voice, he spoke. Cthona save us.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Tristan Flynn, most people call me Flynn, but you can call me whatever you’d like sweetheart.” His grin gleamed white and for a second he looked like a cover model for some ridiculous fae product on the shopping channel. Then he cocked his head, lips falling into a smirk, and he looked like an alphahole. You answered with a saccharine smile of your own.

“I don’t think you’d like to hear what I’ll be calling you.” Marc snorted, fully familiar with the running list of names you kept for anyone you deemed an alphahole. Before I could continue, Marc and Declan ushered us all the two steps it took to get from the living room to the front door. Marc scooped the boxes out of your hands with a grin, bringing it up to his nose like the child he was.

“Don’t I get some?” Flynn pouted, and the thought of biting that lip flashed through your brain. You pursed your own lips in annoyance.

“No.”

“Aw come on Tiny. Without me, you wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep.” Your eye twitched at the thought of this male touching your bed and something in your stomach pooled at the thought of his scent on your sheets. You waved that feeling away, calling for the simmering rage you had been feeling before. It came…reluctantly. It was easier when you saw Marc plucking the top box off the stack and handing it to Flynn, despite your answer.

“I could’ve brought it up myself.” You’d have had to use your magic, and would have been totally wiped afterwards, but you could’ve done it. Flynn just snorted and leaned closer into your space. Your fingers twitched into a fist, but his scent was overwhelming, not to mention the aroma of the sweetly spiced cookies wafting up between you two.

“With those little arms darling? You wouldn’t have made it past the first step.” Your brow lifted in challenge. Flynn only grinned his shopping channel smile. That pissed you off enough to feel irrationally wrathful, so you yanked the box of cookies out of his hands and gave it to Declan, instead of your traitorous best friend.

“Declan, it was really nice to meet you. Marc, if I’m not the maid of honor in your mating ceremony, I’ll be pissed for the next century, and a half.” Marc let out a snort and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Declan followed suit, grabbing Flynn’s ridiculously built arm and pulling him out of your space.

“Don’t I get a kiss too?” See? Total alphahole.

—

You’d been in Lunathion for three weeks when Declan invited you to his house for an evening. You assumed it was going to be dinner and meeting his roommates so you were in the middle of throwing together a cake for the thing, when Marc called.

“Flynn will be there.” Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t seen the male since he was in your apartment, well not in person. He did seem so star in a few of your dreams after the fact. Not that you’d tell anyone, least of all Marc. “You’re not allowed to bail. I’m telling you this so you’ll be prepared.”

“But I don’t wanna see Flynn!” You spat the name, cheeks going warm at your whining. You hadn’t acted like this in a long, long time. Marc knew it too.

“And why exactly don’t you want to see him?” You could hear the smirk in Marc’s voice.

“He’s an alphahole. Obviously.”

“Uh-huh. Well honestly, you’ll probably hardly see him. It’s a party, and he’s definitely the life of the party.” It’s a party? Why in Urd’s name— “I knew you wouldn’t agree to go if I invited you, so I had Declan do it.” There was a rustling on the other side of the line and I could hear Declan yelling. “He says he’s sorry for deceiving you, but really wanted you to meet everyone.” Marc huffed a laugh at whatever else Declan said “I really want you to meet everyone too. I mean, if you’re gonna be my maid of honor, you’ll need to know the mating party.” Damn. For as much as you’d teased Marc and Dec about getting mated, you could see it happening, and soon. Marc, unfortunately and annoyingly was right about meeting Dec’s friends. I mean, they couldn’t all be alphaholes like Flynn…right?

“I promise you, they aren’t all like Tristan Flynn. Ruhn’s chill, You’ll love Bryce, and Hunt is obsessed with Bryce so you’ll love him too. Tharion may be an acquired taste for you, but really, you’ll love them. Please say you’ll come.” Marc’s voice had taken on a note of pleading, and you sighed.

“I’ll hardly see him?” Marc let out a laugh. “I’m serious Marc! I almost murdered the male when he called me tiny. I’m sure Declan doesn’t want blood on his carpet.” That made Marc laugh even harder.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think blood is the worst they’ve got on the carpet in that house.” He let loose one more laugh. “I’ll see you at 10!” You squawked at the phone, but he’d already hung up. Turning to the cake cooling on the counter you sighed.

If you were meant to be up all night, you’d better take a nap.

—

Marc was probably right about blood not being the worst thing on the carpets in this house. You actually couldn’t believe they even bothered to keep the carpet in this place at all. It was a veritable frat house, complete with the alarmingly sticky floor, ridiculous towel tapestries and sagging couches. It’s a wonder the house was still standing at all. Mirthroot filled the air as Marc pulled you into the living room, lifting the cake from your hands, leading towards a couch and a few loveseats. All pieces of furniture were filled with laughing people smoking mirthroot and sipping drinks. No Flynn in sight. Your shoulders sagged a bit in relief. You were still waking up from your nap, and weren’t nearly alert or drunk enough for verbal sparring with that particular male.

You picked Declan out of the group first, red hair glinting in the the flashing lights of the party.

“You came!” Declan was tipsy, and clearly pleased to see you as he scooped you into a hug.

“And she brought us cake.” Marc lifted the cake and wiggled the plate a bit to get Dec’s attention. Declan saw the cake, eyes wide, and turned back to you.

“I love you, and if you weren’t basically Marc’s little sister, I would totally date you.” You snorted a laugh and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for the confidence booster Dec. I’d totally date you too” Declan pretended to swoon and pulled you to his chest in a hug, popping a kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulders.

“Everyone, this is Marc’s best friend!” He cheered, and the group let out an indulgent cheer too. “This is everyone!” Marc laughed at Dec’s introduction and took the reins

“That’s Ruhn Danaan, crown prince and all that,” The male in question winked at you, and you could feel your face warming. “Bryce Quinlan, his sister and reluctant crown princess” Bryce waved off the attention and grinned at you.

“Nice to see I’m not the only one suffering these alphaholes.” You matched her smile and answered. “It’s a thankless, full-time job.” The males in question shouted in protest, while you and Bryce laughed.

“Alright miss ‘full-time’,” Marc continued with a smile. “Next to Bryce is Hunt Athalar, Fallen Angel extraordinaire.” Hunt made a gesture that you were sure was rude, but also ancient as Marc moved on to the last man in their group “That’s Tharion. He’s the mer version of Sherlock Holmes. Sort of.” Tharion didn’t bother with gestures and told Marc to fuck off. You laughed, and Marc and Declan guided you to the couch. You didn’t bother asking about Flynn, you didn’t want to know about Flynn, or his shiny hair, or his bulging biceps, or his place in the group or—You didn’t want to know about Flynn. Not at all.

The party progressed as most parties always do, with mirthroot and shots. So many shots. A couple hours in, you were well on your way to blasted and humming to yourself as your searched upstairs for the bathroom. You’d already been in two other rooms so far and had only found a bedroom and a ridiculously large closet. You pushed the next door open and froze. Tristan Flynn was naked. Tristan Flynn was naked, and licking into a faun twice your size who was also naked. Neither of them was paying attention to you. The faun was a work of art, all supple skin and soft belly and heaving breasts and Flynn wasn’t much different.

You blamed the shots for your slow reaction, for your desire to linger, for the way you catalogued the muffled moans that came from Flynn. You watched for longer than you should have, as the faun rolled her hips over Flynn’s face. As Flynn gripped her thighs and pulled her tighter over him. The faun’s gasp broke you out of your daze and you were more than a bit horrified at your…voyeurism. Then you shook your head, and stumbled out of the room. You were way too drunk for a moral quandary in a frat house.

You found the bathroom soon enough, and after washing your hands, you were ready to leave. Your face was hot, Hel, everything was hot after the drinking and dancing and laughing. You were tired. And you couldn’t stop hearing Tristan Flynn, moaning from under a fucking faun. So you said your goodbyes to the group, promising to text Marc when you got home and to text Bryce in the morning to make brunch plans. You waved off Declan when he offered to walk you to the door, waving your phone and promising that you could make it to your rideshare in one piece all by yourself and dropping a kiss on his cheek.

You were nearly at the door, trying to focus on your phone to figure out where exactly you were supposed to be meeting your ride, when shit went to Hel.

“Hey! Heeeeeeeey, hey. You wanna drink?” You hadn’t noticed the male approach you, drunk and buried in your phone as you were, you probably could have fallen asleep standing up, but something about this male made you bristle and shake off the cobwebs. The male was a bit bigger than you, not someone you’d have a problem getting away from with a few words and a perfectly timed smile sober. But you were not sober. Not by a long shot. In the back of your head, you wondered if that’s why he’d bothered to approach.

“No thanks. I was just leaving.” There. That should do it. You turned back to your screen.

“Well what about a drink before you head out?” You were already shaking your head no when the male grabbed your arm and whirled you to him. He stank of alcohol and something that was definitely harder that mirthroot.

“Let go of me.” You didn’t try to pull your arm away, not yet. If you were going to have to fight, you’d need surprise on your side. Your addled brain knew that much.

“Come oooooon. I’m a great bartender. I can make you something special.” The male winked and you had no doubt that the ‘something special’ he made would not end well for you. So you wrenched your arm back and kicked him between his legs as hard as you could, racing back towards the living room. You’d be safest in a crowd of bodies. The male yowled in pain behind you, but still reached to pull you back. You shook him off another time and bounded towards the stairs, closer to the party proper. “Come back here! You fucking b—”

“I’d watch what you say.” You were so frantic trying to get back to the living room that the voice pulled you up short. Tristan Flynn stood on the bottom step, arms crossed and muscles working casually in a perfectly tight t-shirt. The male in question scoffed.

“I was just offering her a drink.”

“Seems to me like she didn’t want it.” Flynn’s voice was low, dangerous and…hot, your drunken brain provided. For Urd’s sake. Still, the male didn’t take the hint. He stepped towards you, looking equal parts murderous and smarmy. You stumbled back, closer to the stairs. Closer to Flynn.

“Come on, don’t you want to have a drink with me? I promised I’d make you something special.” You stepped back further and jumped as a gentle hand found your back. Flynn’s hand. Flynn. He kept his hand on your back, first between your shoulders then sliding down, down, down to your lower back as he stepped down to the floor beside you, palm heating your skin along the way. He took one step, small, negligible really, but just enough to place himself in front of you. Your stomach swooped and your gaze snapped up to his.

“Do you want a drink from this…male, Tiny?” More sobriety clawed its way to the surface at the nickname, and you narrowed your eyes. Flynn smirked, and nodded towards the male. His sneering face brought a wave of fear your way, and you shook your head no. Your phone dinged with a notification. Your ride was outside. Thank Urd. Flynn peered at your phone and nodded. “Looks like your ride is here Tiny. I’ll walk you out.” He turned to the male in the hallway, face like stone. “You stay here, our crown prince wants a word with you.” The male’s eyes widened, but Flynn just pressed his palm on your back and nudged you forward.

When you were finally outside, he stopped you in front of the car, turning you towards him. His brows were pulled close, eyes skimming over your body in concern.

“Did he hurt you, Tiny?” You could do nothing but shake your head and stare. This Tristan Flynn was a complete departure from the one you’d first met. Hel, he seemed genuinely concerned. “Are you sure? Do you need to report anything? I promised Marc I’d stay away from you tonight, but this is serious. If you don’t want to talk to a male, we’ve got plenty of females at the Aux that can—” You shook your head again, stopping his admittedly cute rambling and catching on the fact that Marc made him promise to stay away from you. Why the Hel would he do that?

“Why would he ask you to stay away from me?” Flynn leaned closer, face flashing with concern, before a small grin slid across his face. This one was softer than his smirks, and a little rueful.

“Apparently, I make you uncomfortable.” You must have looked confused, because he sighed and continued. “You’re fun to tease, Tiny, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me. Especially considering Dec and Marc will probably be mated before the year is up.” He shrugged like it was nothing, and maybe to him it was. He surely couldn’t have trouble finding a female or five in Lunathion to tease. Your mind flashed back to the faun, and his moans and… Stop. You pushed those thoughts away quickly.

“Well, thank you Flynn.” You probably would have made it back to the party with a sore arm, a bruise or two and a bucket of trauma, but Flynn helped you. It made your perception of him glitch a bit.

“Call me Tristan.” He smirked. You rolled your eyes. Glitch over.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh please do think of me, Tiny. Dream of me, even!” You scoffed, but couldn’t completely conceal the grin that tugged at your lips.

So Tristan Flynn might not be a total alphahole.

—

The following months were filled with decorating your small apartment, then redecorating it, settling into your new job at the embassy archives, brunches with Bryce, and of course, parties at the Frat House. It was fun. After your grandmother died and you’d decided to leave home, you weren’t quite sure that you’d find your place. But Lunathion and everyone in it had become home. Hel, Even Tristan Flynn had continued to prove himself to not be a total alphahole. Apparently miracles do happen. Or maybe it was just this odd little group making them happen.

You’d spent more time thinking (and loathsomely, dreaming) about Flynn. Tristan. Ugh. It was getting bad. Marc began bringing him up to see your reaction, and laughing when you directed a withering glare at him. Every. Single. Time. It wasn’t like you’d never had a crush on a male. It’s just that you’d never crushed on someone who was so much a part of your life and the life of your friends. You usually crushed on males so far out of your league that you could put them in a glass case and gaze at them from afar. That was not the case with Tristan Flynn, gods, you were in the stage of the crush where everything he did you wanted to watch. Everything he said you wanted to hear. And it was so godsdamned annoying.

Seriously, you’d never been so annoyed with yourself. And it wasn’t just your heart taking a hit, but your body too. Every time you heard his voice, heat pooled in your stomach. His laugh had your face warming. His gaze on you had you thinking you might actually spontaneously combust. He was just the right amount of charming, kind and alphahole that you never expected to like, let alone crave. Which is exactly why you avoided Tristan Flynn like the fucking plague. That, and you didn’t have enough in your budget to keep buying batteries like the world was ending.

The first party you’d gone to after everything had happened was normal enough, but Flynn hadn’t ever stopped watching you. He’d shift around the room, but he could always see you, and you him. He’d bring you drinks to try and was always ready to roll a bit of mirthroot for you. Hel, he even let you on his beer pong team, despite your warnings (and Marc’s) that you were awful. Flynn only shrugged and laughed good naturedly when you two lost, high-fiving you in mock celebration.

It was after that abysmal game that he brought you another drink, this one in a wine glass.

“Marc told me that you like wine.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. You didn’t even know the boys had wine in the house. The kitchen was stocked with so much hard liquor you were surprised there was room for anything else. Taking the glass you gave it a sniff and grinned. Somehow, Tristan Flynn had gotten your favorite wine, and from the way he was watching your face, he knew it too. Marc is such a busybody.

“Thanks Flynn.” You raised the drink in cheers and took a sip. Perfect.

“It’s Tristan, remember?” He stepped closer to you, breaching your personal space. Your traitorous body did not mind. Not one bit. Bitch.

“I told you I’d think about it, remember?” A lazy smile slid across your face as you clutched the wine glass. Flynn looked from your face, to the glass, to your lips, and to the glass again. He took another step closer, gripping the glass lightly and cupping your hand in his much larger one.

Your breath caught as he pulled the glass and your hand along with it towards his mouth. Pulling your eyes to his, you found Flynn watching you, all the while the glass moved closer and closer to his lips. Finally, he took a sip and you couldn’t resist watching his lips kiss the glass. He swallowed, and your eyes dropped to watch his Adam’s apple dip and rise. Flynn leaned closer, closer, closer, until he was right next to your ear.

“You drive a hard bargain Tiny. Guess I’ll have to be patient.” You exhaled a breath as his lips brushed your ear, and then between one breath and the next, Flynn was back to normal, standing in front of you, watching your reaction. Watching for discomfort, you realized. Whatever your face was doing, it wasn’t discomfort, so he smiled that soft smile and strolled away, melting into the party.

So yeah, you were avoiding Tristan Flynn, because honestly you were going to have a heart attack or run out of panties at the rate you were going.

No one else but Marc and Dec seemed to notice in the following months. Marc thought it was hilarious, but Dec was worried. So worried he pulled you aside tonight at what was probably your 30th party at the house, and asked if Flynn had done anything to upset you. You were mortified. All you could do was assure Declan that Flynn hadn’t done anything, and that you were just…awkward. Cthona spare you! Bryce took one look at your face after that conversation and told Hunt to stay at the party while you had a girls night. Hunt looked suspicious, but gave Bryce a quick peck and tugged you to her side.

“Be careful Princess.” Bryce rolled her eyes while still managing to look pleased. The walk back to her apartment was quick, filled with heated debate about the latest episode of Fangs and Bangs. When you reached the elevator to her place she turned to you.

“Okay, I wanted to wait until we were in private, but I have to know…What the Hel is going on between you and Flynn?” You gaped at her for a moment, and the elevator doors dinged open. She grinned. “Come on! There has to be something happening between you two. He always asks about you and—” Bryce stopped short, causing you to bump into her. The door to her apartment was wide open, and there was something on the floor, bleeding, if your nose was to be believed. Too small to be Syrinx, thank Urd, but…Bryce slid a gun into her hand from Urd knows where and advanced slowly, calling Hunt. You followed closely behind, ready to offer whatever backup you could.

“…yeah the door was wide open.” A bit more chatter on the line “No, he didn’t say anything.” A crackle from the line. “Well I don’t fucking know Athalar, I would had asked if — Oh my Gods! Ithan?!”

—

Ithan Holstrom was a sweetheart. The ex-sunball player was kind, gentler than you’d expected and way nicer than anyone should be given he lost his brother and was violently removed from his pack a few weeks ago. You and Ithan had struck up a friendship of sorts. One that relied on you teaching him how to bake, and him becoming your personal trainer. You’d always said you’d pick up your self-defense training after a few weeks in the city, but you never did. Mainly because most classes were held at the Aux and you really, really didn’t want to risk running into Flynn. But after what had happened with Bryce and Ithan, you realized that you really needed to get back into it. You were fairly safe at home and work and with the guys and Bryce, but Lunathion was still a major city. You had been slacking, a lot. So once Ithan had healed properly, and he’d noticed your restlessness, he offered to go running with you. Running turned into a running and an hour of lifting, and then that turned into running in the morning, then lifting and sparring after work.

Ithan was distractingly hot, with the biceps and the easy smile and, oh right, the abs, but still a good teacher. He helped you refresh the basics with a shifter twist, and he didn’t even push when you wouldn’t answer his question as to why you weren’t taking classes at the Aux. Instead of pushing, he asked you to teach him how to make cookies.

Which is why you both stood in your small kitchen, Ithan scratching his head while looking at the recipe card, and you distracted by how his biceps moved with the action. You’d already made a few cakes with Ithan, to Bryce’s delight (she was y’alls taste tester), and you knew he could actually handle himself in the kitchen. Which is exactly why you decided to work on a more challenging recipe than just regular chocolate chip.

“Browned Butter Toffee & Chocolate Chip Cookes? Cthona’s tits, are you sure I can handle this?” You grinned at him, pulling the recipe card out of his hands and nodding.

“Of course Ithan. I wouldn’t give you anything you couldn’t handle. Now grab the butter.” Ithan mumbled something under his breath, but it was so low that you couldn’t make it out.

“The Nid—”

“Yes the Nidarosian butter. Just one stick.” You spun back to your cabinets pulling out brown sugar and Ogean sea salt. You both met at the stovetop, shoulder to shoulder as Ithan looked at you for the next step. “Kay so first we need to melt the butter. Can you grab that pot?” You pointed to the one on the shelf to your right, it was closer to Ithan and if you’re being honest, placed so high that you’d have to climb your counter to grab it. You clearly didn’t use it that often. Ithan grinned and grabbed the pot, placing it on the stovetop.

“Why’d you even put something up that high? You’re so tiny, there’s no way you could reach that.” Rolling your eyes, you dropped the butter into the pan and turned on the burner. Do all Lunathion males think you’re…tiny? You weren’t, you really weren’t, but something about you was apparently small to Flynn and now Ithan.

“What is it with you Lunathion males? Always calling me tiny. I’m not that small!” Ithan laughed, picking up on the frustration in your voice.

“I see I’ve hit a nerve…Tiny.” You scowled pushing him away from you. Willing to play along, he leaned to the side, but not before trapping your hand against his chest and taking you with him. Turning a bit so his back was against the wall, he pulled you closer and looked down, catching the surprise on your face. “Does it really bother you?”

You had no idea what on Urd he was talking about. Not with him so close. One arm pulled you closer to him by the waist and the other trapped your hand against his heart. You could feel it beating through the heat sinking into your skin. Hel, you could feel all of him molded against your front, chest to chest. Ithan dipped his head lower, coming eye-to-eye with you. He asked again. “Does it bother you? The nickname?”

Before you could answer, the scent of perfectly melted Nidarosian butter wafted to you and like a spell broken, you stepped back out of Ithan’s grasp.

“We just need to add the brown sugar and salt, then we whisk it.” Ithan pushed off from the wall casually, and stalked towards you, nodding. You added the ingredients, tilting toward the counter to your left for the whisk.

“And how exactly do we whisk?” Ithan was behind you now, hooking his chin on your shoulder. He continued. “I mean, I know you’ve shown me the whisk before, but I don’t quite remember the technique.” He tilted his mouth towards your ear as he spoke, and his voice made your head just a bit woozy. You let loose a breath before dipping the whisk in the bubbling toffee to be. Mixing with a light flick of your wrist you showed him. Ithan hummed in understanding. “I think I get it, but could you make sure I’m doing it right?” Ithan stepped a touch closer, and the scent of his soap and skin urged you to lean back into his chest. Pulling the whisk from your hand, he gripped it and waved it around. “A hand please, Tiny?”

You dropped your palm on top of his hand, fitting your forearm over his larger one. You guided his hand in the whisking motion you’d shown him before. He hummed again, and stepped impossibly closer, pushing you between the stovetop and his body softly. Then he whisked the boiling toffee perfectly, calming the bubbling liquid. He repeated the action every time the mixture began to bubble for the next few minutes.

“Did I do good, Tiny?” You could have sworn Ithan dipped his nose to your neck when he asked for your approval, but the scent of him and the toffee was distracting enough that you did all you could to drag your attention back to the task at hand.

“Perfect.” This time you definitely felt his grin against your neck. Burning fucking Solas.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait for it to cool.” Ithan nodded into your neck once more, then stepped back.

The cookies turned out perfectly.

—

When Ithan moved into the Frat house, you weren’t at all surprised. Ithan was a sweetheart, and you clearly weren’t the only one who thought so, if the attention that Ruhn, Dec and Flynn showered on him was any indication. You’d noticed it when you met up with Bryce at the house before brunch. The guys were having some sort of Sunball watch party, with Ruhn, Hunt, Dec, Marc, Ithan and Flynn lounging in the living room, snacking and talking shit. Males.

Ever a fan of ignoring a problem (crush) until it goes away (Which has literally never happened to you. Not once.), you hurried Bryce out the door and to the elevator. You could feel Flynn’s stare on you as you hustled out the door, and could hear Ithan’s confusion in his “Hi Tiny! Bye Tiny!” A smack sounded, and Ithan squawked. You barely heard the ‘sorry Pup’ before Bryce shut the door.

Bryce was kind enough to wait until you had both ordered brunch before she began her interrogation.

“Okay, what in fresh fuck is going on with you and Flynn? And Ithan?” She added Ithan to the question with a quirked brow. You debated lying, you really did, but you needed to talk about this with someone. A female, and honestly after all these months, you trusted Bryce.

“You can’t tell anyone. Well, I guess you can tell Hunt. He wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t think…” Bryce tilted her head to the side, face expectant. No more stalling apparently. “Fine…I…I don’t know.”

“What the Hel do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean…Flynn is just a flirty guy right? Like he probably looks at most girls like—”

“Like he wants to swallow them whole?” You choked on your breath.

“He does not look at me like that!”

“He really, really does. What happened between you two?”

“Nothing really…” You told Bryce about the first time you met, and then the party, and by the end, she was looking at you like you had five heads.

“In what universe does him doing all that mean he doesn’t like you? Hel, that’s practically a proposal from Flynn.” Now you looked at Bryce like she was crazy. “I’m serious. He asks about you all the time and the only reason he doesn’t have your number and ask you himself is because you haven’t given us permission to give him your number. He. Likes. You.” Bryce didn’t give you a chance to respond, jumping topics. “And what’s going on with you and our resident wolf-boy?” You groaned and dropped your head to the table.

“Please stop talking about them.” You didn’t want to think about them, especially considering how much your subconscious wanted you to think about them. You’d been having increasingly vivid dreams about the two males in your bed for the past week, and it wasn’t getting any better. When you finally raised your head, Bryce was smirking.

“You know…I can see you three together. It’d be hot as Hel too.” You grumbled a few curses and Bryce cackled as you tossed a bread roll at her head. “Seriously, you need to go for it and put everyone out of their misery.” You groaned and Bryce laughed louder “Honestly, let me know if y’all ever give a show. All those muscles, and your ass? Yeah, I’ll be the first to buy a ticket!”

—

Despite Bryce’s encouragement, you avoided the House along with Flynn and Ithan. You couldn’t think about either of them without getting distracted and more than a little wet, so you stayed away. Not necessarily effective, but…old habits and all that. You were just thinking about the viability of actually making new friends when Ithan called. You didn’t have it in you to ignore the call, and honestly, you missed his voice.

“Hey Ithan!” Apparently, your knee jerk reaction was to pretend that you hadn’t been ignoring him and every male you knew in Lunathion for a solid month.

“Hey Tiny. How are you doing?” Ithan sounded wary, which made you wary.

“I’m fine, why?”

“Well I figured you had to be sick or something to be avoiding all of us like we’re lepers.” Silence suffocated the line and you weren’t quite sure how to respond. You could still hear Ithan breathing softly on the line, waiting. Always so patient with you.

“I— I’m sorry.” You searched for more words. A full sentence would be good. “I’m not sick, I’ve just been, off. I didn’t mean to ignore you, or anyone, not really. I was just…in a mood I guess.” Ithan hummed, and you could tell he was mulling over your response.

“Fine, and because I’m super benevolent and shit,” You snorted at that, but let him continue. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.” It was your turn to answer warily.

“Come to the Aux to train with me.” You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. You were weighing your options. If you could figure out when Flynn wasn’t there, you could train with Ithan then. That way you’d only have to worry about one of your fantasy males instead of two. You’d have to ask Marc or Declan for — Ithan’s voice sounded on the other side of the line. “Tiny? You still there?” You cleared your throat.

“Oh um yeah. I’m here.” You cringed at yourself. Smooth.

“Well, do we have a deal?” You kissed your teeth in annoyance at the whole thing, but agreed anyways. You didn’t want to lose Ithan as a friend, and you knew Flynn could be a great friend too, you just needed to get over your stupid, ridiculously horny crush and you’d be fine. You know what they say, the only way out, is through.

—

You did not want to be Ithan Holstrom’s friend. You definitely did not want to be Tristan Flynn’s friend. Not when the both of them were shirtless, glistening in sweat and lifting heavy, heavy weights side by side in the Aux training room. Urd help you. You’d gotten there early, just in case you got lost on the way, and those extra ten minutes were gonna be your downfall. Or maybe it was Flynn’s back muscles rippling as cleaned at least 200lbs.

The only way out is through bitch. Wipe the drool from your mouth and get in there.

You inhaled the air of the Aux, thankfully it smelled more like disinfectant than a sweaty locker room, and walked into the training room. There were a few other Fae there, but no one you knew. The music rattled your bones as you nodded to them anyways, circling to stand in front of the two males. They looked even more disgustingly delicious from the front. All pecs and biceps and abs on abs on abs. Burning fucking Solas.

“I thought we were training together.” You quipped.

Ithan dropped his bar with a grin, and bounded over to hug you, sweaty limbs and all. You stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Not a chance Holstrom, I can smell you from here.” He grinned and lurched forward like he was going to hug you anyways. You yelped and stepped back shouting a quick ‘no way in Hel!’. Then Flynn stepped beside Ithan, placed his hand where Ithan’s neck joined his shoulder and squeezed, just a bit. Ithan’s eyes flashed and the look he leveled at Flynn was…heated.

“You bothering Tiny, Pup?” The words had an effect on you. An effect you did not want to be having in a room full of Fae with sensitive noses. Still, you couldn’t look away from the two of them.

“We’re just playing T.” Flynn turned his attention to you, and your body heated under his gaze. He did a full body scan, starting at your eyes, looking down to your chest, down and down to your shorts and further down still at your legs. When he drew his gaze back up, you swallowed.

“Looks like Tiny is ready to train, Pup. Why don’t you get her warmed up?” Another bar dropped on the floor loudly, and broke you out of whatever trance Tristan Flynn’s eyes put you in. Ithan seemed a bit more focused too, and for the next 45 minutes you warmed up, and did your strength training.

Flynn watched you both the whole time. Paying extra attention when Ithan corrected your posture for your hang cleans and squats. He even watched as you and Ithan moved over to the sparring ring, arms folded, biceps bulging and eyes tracking the both of you he was the wolf.

Ithan took it easy on you at the start. You didn’t really like sparring in the first place, preferring the conceptual techniques and repetitive training to actually fighting, but you needed the practice. You took a few hits to the shoulder and one annoying one to the cheek, but Ithan wasn’t going full strength. You didn’t ask him to and you were pretty sure he never would have anyways. Your last combo pushed Ithan back on his heels just long enough for you put him in a headlock. Well…your version of a headlock on a male who’s at least a head and a half taller than you. Really, you were hanging onto his neck from behind, but close enough.

You and Ithan laughed, and Flynn applauded from the sidelines. Then, he hopped up into the ring and sauntered towards us.

“Looks like our Tiny has quite a few moves up her sleeve.” You tried to ignore Flynn’s use of ‘our’ as he carried on. “Do you think she can handle both of us at once Pup?”

Your eyes flashed to the male in annoyance, but already you were thinking of strategies. Flynn could tell. The moment his eyes caught yours, they brightened in excitement. Ithan wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know T, It’s—”

“I can take it.” Sweet merciful Cthona you did not just say that. “I mean, I can take you two.” Flynn’s smirk grew as you continued to ramble. “I mean, I can handle you two. In a fight.” Ithan and Flynn shared another look, then turned back to you, grinning.

“Rules, T?” Ithan asked as he circled the ring.

“No scratching, hair pulling or ball busting. Everything else is fair game.” You nodded, already thinking about what exactly you could do and glad to hear that biting was still on the table. Suckers.

The key to fighting multiple opponents hand-to-hand, is to stack them. If one is coming at you from your front, turn so that no matter where the other attacker is, they can’t get to you without going through their friend. You knew the concept of stacking well enough, and had practiced it with at least 5 people at once, but these two males on the mat weren’t simply people. They were trained, and they were ready to lay you down on that mat. As much as the thought appealed to you, you weren’t in the mood to hear the alphaholes gloating about it for the next century.

Flynn grabbed for you first, and you flitted out of the way. You were feeling each other out. He lunged again, and you dodged, but you also noticed Ithan watching, waiting. You noticed him circling Flynn and you, and when Ithan finally lunged, you ran straight for Flynn, grabbing his shoulder and forearm and yanking him in front of you and therefore in front of Ithan.

The two males grunted as they slammed into each other, and you stepped away from Flynn, letting gravity do the work for you. The two tumbled to the ground face first but before you could crow your triumph, Ithan grabbed your ankle and sent you to the floor as well. Ithan swung his leg over your hips with a grin, pinning you to the ground with a wicked smile. He leaned closer to your face as Flynn grabbed your wrists and pulled them above your head.

For a moment, all logical thought left your brain as you felt Ithan on top of you and Flynn’s grip burning into your wrists, but then you heard Flynn chuckle. And it was so much like the chuckle you heard when you first met him that you snapped back to reality, shoved your hips up like you were doing a bridge, then flipped over to the left quickly enough that Ithan toppled over and so that within a second, you were on top of him. Take that alphaholes!

While the males were still in shock, you yanked your hands towards your chest, dragging Flynn along on his knees and bit his hands that circled your wrists. He let out a shout of surprised pain and you hopped up and out of their space, bouncing on your toes in fighting stance. Flynn and Ithan stayed on the ground, staring up at you. It was your turn to smirk.

“Told you I could handle you.”

—

You’d been in Lunathion for one entire year. You couldn’t believe how much had changed, how much you had changed but you were grateful. You loved your minuscule apartment, you loved your friends, Hel, you even loved the disgusting Frat House. It had a certain sticky charm. What you did not love was Bryce and Marc, pestering you about Flynn and Ithan.

“Nothing’s going to happen.” You waved them off and continued walking towards the Frat House. Apparently Ruhn was hosting some sort of watch party for something about Sunball. You didn’t really care, but you wanted to be surrounded by your people. Even if they were yelling nonsense at a tv screen.

“Not if you don’t initiate it! Those males are practically salivating over you.” You scrunched your nose at the image of it. “Seriously, how stubborn can you be?!” Marc sounded more frustrated than usual about the whole situation, and you side-eyed him.

“I’m not being stubborn, but I have no interest in complicating things. We just became friends.” That much was true. You, Flynn and Ithan had formed your own triad of sorts after that first training session in the Aux. There were certain things you always did together, and you wouldn’t give up your post training smoothie session with the two of them for anything. Not even their dicks. Cthona spare you.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated, I’m sure you all can figure out how to fuck.”

“Bryce!”

“She’s right, though! Flynn and Ithan are obsessed with you. The three of you are basically inseparable, and honestly, you’d be really cute together.”

“That’s what I told her Marc! She never listens.” You were a few blocks away now, and you rolled your eyes at the two. A phone chimed, and Bryce pulled hers out, scowling at the screen.

“Marc, did you get the ice?” Marc looked at Bryce in confusion.

“Pretty sure you were supposed to get the ice, Princess.”

“ Well Ruhn says that if either of us walk into the House without ice, we won’t be allowed in.” Marc frowned.

“Seems a bit aggressive for ice but…” They both turned to me. “We’re going to go get ice, we’ll see you in there.” Then, they turned away and started walking in the opposite direction. Weirdos.

When you finally made it to the house, it was quiet for once. Creepy. You called out to see if anyone would answer as you pushed the door open, but you were met with silence. Super creepy. You pulled out your stun gun and flicked it on, just in case. You passed the stairwell, and took in the living room. It was dark, no strobe lights or even the light from the TV. Just as you were about to turn tail and leave there was a burst of noise and light.

“Surprise!” What the fuck?

The confusion must have shown on your face, because as everyone in your life in Lunathion cheered and celebrated, Marc walked up to you to explain.

“It your anniversary party! It’s been a year since you moved to Lunathion and joined our rag tag little group. We wanted to celebrate you.” Tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt a watery smile growing. Marc had thrown you a party.

“How did you get everyone to come?” Marc grinned like a cat who caught the canary.

“Oh. No. This wasn’t my idea. This was all Flynn and Ithan. They organized it, invited everyone, the whole shebang. I just showed up.”

“And forgot the ice.” Marc rolled his eyes.

“There was never any ice…” He kept talking, but you tuned him out. You scanned the room for a sign of the two males, but they were no where to be found. So you interrupted Marc’s rambling for answers.

“Where are they?”

—

You found Ithan in the kitchen in front of a yellow three-tiered monstrosity and a piping bag in hand. He was humming to himself as he piped purple flowers onto the cake. You called his name to get his attention.

“Tiny?” He whirled to face you, smile widening as you stared at him, and then the cake. He followed your stare to the cake and jumped up, towards you, hands coming to cover your eyes. “Close your eyes Tiny! It’s bad luck for you to see the cake before the…um, time for cake.” You snorted.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot right?” You turned to face him head tilted up to see a bit of vulnerability in his eyes. You opened your mouth to say what, you weren’t sure, but Flynn breezed in, and answered for the both of you.

“Pup, you’re our idiot. Isn’t that right Tiny?” Flynn winked at you both, and rounded the counter. As soon as he was close enough, you pulled both of them into a hug.

“I can’t believe you guys did this for me.” You squeezed them tighter. “Thank you.” You pulled back a bit, and Ithan nodded, glancing at you with a soft smile before he returned to the cake. When you turned to Flynn, your eyes widened at the intensity of his gaze.

“We’ve got you Tiny. Just like you’ve got us.” You melted a bit at the sincerity in Flynn’s eyes, and nodded in agreement. After everything that happened this year, you would absolutely go to bat for every person in this house right now, especially Flynn and Ithan. Flynn smiled after a moment. “Now go enjoy your party baby, we’ll see you in a bit.” Your heart stopped at the endearment, but Flynn merely guided you to the threshold of the kitchen and nudged you towards the party.

—

You’d never had so much fun in your life. Flynn and Ithan had arranged for you to play a bunch of stupid party games that you’d never been able to try out at the regular Frat House Parties and they were fun. You had all the people you loved under one roof, playing games, yelling to your favorite songs, shoveling yellow cake with purple flowers into their mouths and you felt light and happy and loved. That was all thanks to Flynn and Ithan. So, before the night wore into morning and your friends were all too wasted to appreciate it, you gave a toast.

“First of all, I want to thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure I’d last a week in Lunathion, let alone a year, and I’m beyond grateful to have you all here celebrating this with me. When I first got to the city, I was so sure I wouldn’t find home again,” you’d thought home had died a while back, with your grandmother and her cottage and her love. “But then I met you all, and I remembered exactly what home feels like. And now, thanks to you, I get to love my life, love my friends, and love my home.” Everyone ‘Awwed’ in the way drunken friends do. You caught Flynn and Ithan’s eyes watching you.

“I also want to thank Flynn and Ithan. We had an…interesting start…” Everyone laughed, and Flynn quirked a smirk. Ithan just grinned like the puppy he was. “But they’ve become a huge part of my life, and I want to thank them both for putting all of this together for me.” Everyone applauded until Ruhn fell backwards on the couch next to Dec, releasing a gust of air and smirking.

“Dec, I think we better find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” This time, everyone laughed and though you felt embarrassment heating your face, your eyes also caught Flynn’s, then Ithan’s. Maybe Ruhn was right. Maybe Bryce and Marc were right.

—

Everyone left in about an hour. Everyone but Flynn and Ithan. You had started to clean up the living room, not willing to leave all of the work to the males. Especially not after all they did.

“You should not be cleaning Tiny. This is your party.” You turned towards Flynn, grinning. He walked towards you, and in a display of boldness, or maybe comfort, you draped your arms on his shoulders. Your hands came together around his neck, and as he tilted your chin up, your hands played with the short hairs falling onto his neck.

“I’m pretty sure the party’s over Flynn.” Flynn hummed in acknowledgment and dipped his head lower, lower, lower, towards your lips.

“Always so astute Tiny.” Then, finally, Flynn kissed you. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, and Flynn luxuriated in the kiss, in your lips. Here was the kiss you’d been dreaming and daydreaming about for the past three months. The kiss that curled your toes and sent fire rushing through your veins. Finally, finally—

“Finally.” You giggled at Flynn’s words against your lips. “Come to bed with me, baby?” Your heart jumped at the endearment again, and you nodded, wrapping your legs around Flynn’s waist as he lifted you closer to him. He kissed your neck as he walked you up the steps, into his room. He had you back down on the bed before you could even think about the last time you were in his room.

Flynn plastered himself onto you without hesitation, nuzzling your neck and nipping your ear.

“Is this okay Tiny?” You nodded frantically, and he continued kissing your skin, first down your neck, then to your chest, right above your tits. “Is this okay baby?” You nodded again. Annoyed at the absence of his lips. He chuckled and returned his attention to your skin nipping and sucking and driving your out of your mind.

Flynn moved further still, pulling off your clothes with ease and caressing your stomach with a hand, then a kiss, then another kiss lower and lower and —

“Burning Solas Flynn!” He nipped at your clit before lifting his head.

“Say my name Tiny.” He locked his stare with yours, then gave your pussy an experimental lick. Your hips jerked up, but Flynn braced his forearm over your them, holding you in place. “My name baby, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He dipped down to lick into you again and you keened.

“T, please.” You’d liked hearing the short name coming out of Ithan’s mouth and had been dying to try it since you first heard it. Apparently, it was not what Flynn was looking for. He nipped at your clit again, the pain curling your toes until it melted into pleasure as you did your best to push your pussy onto his face, chasing more of his tongue and teeth and lips.

“Not quite.” You whined.

“You let Ithan call you T, why can’t I call you T?”

“Because,” Flynn gripped your thighs and pulled your closer to his face as his stare heated your body. “My name belongs in your mouth baby.” Then, Flynn dipped his head back to your pussy and licked and sucked and—

“Tristan! Fuck” And apparently, that was all he needed to hear. Flynn—Tristan ate you out until all you could think was ‘oh Gods, oh Tristan, oh my fucking gods.’ By the time you came, your hands were deep in his hair and your legs were locked around his ears. Tristan lapped up every single bit of your orgasm, happy to have your legs wrapped around his head for as long as you wanted.

When you finally released your legs he crawled up your body with a goofy grin.

“What did you think baby?” Even though he just gave you a five star orgasm, you couldn’t resist messing with him, just a little bit. So instead of giving any short verbal answer, you shrugged. That set him off enough to tickle you, and you did not think this through. You shrieked through laughter as his fingers dances along your sides and your kicked fruitlessly between his braced legs. Finally you slapped his arms to get his attention.

“I gotta pee Tristan! I gotta pee!” You were still mid giggle when he stopped, face soft with a smile.

“Fine, but I’m only letting you go because you called me Tristan.” You rolled your eyes at his proclamation.

“You’re ridiculous.” He hummed in agreement and rolled off of you so you could get off the bed.

You stumbled to the bathroom, leaving Tristan laughing at your baby deer impression, and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Flushed, eyes bright, happy. Happy, happy, happy. You peed and while you were washing your hands, Tristan pulled the door open. You turned off the sink and dried your hands as he crowded closer, lifting you to sit on the counter.

“You were taking too long.” You grinned as he leaned in to kiss you and lost yourself his lips for a bit. Soon enough, Tristan was rocking into the crook of your legs, his clothed cock pressing against your increasingly wet pussy. You moaned his name, and Tristan growled, rocking against you a bit firmer.

“We should—” you gasped as he pushed against you again “We should take a shower.” Tristan groaned and you began to pull off his shirt. “Seriously, I want a shower.” You ran your hands down his chest and reached for the fly of his jeans “I want a shower with you Tristan.” You began pushing the jeans down his legs, leaning into him further to whisper in his ear. “Please, Tristan.” That was all it took.

Tristan wrapped your legs around him as he turned, stalked into the shower and yanked the knob to turn it on. You yelped as the cold water his your skin. Tristan let out a low rumbling laugh as he sucked your neck. “You wanted a shower baby.” Then he pressed you against the wall, dropped to his knees and lifted your legs onto his shoulders.

You’d be the first to say you wasted a lot of water.

Tristan didn’t let your legs touch the shower floor until you were begging for more. The water had long gone cold as you tried to focus on seeing rather than feeling. Tristan rose up, cock standing at attention, and wrapped your arms around his neck. With his eyes locked on yours, Tristan guided himself to your pussy and pushed in, past the tightest ring of muscles in your wet heat until he bottomed out.

“Burning fucking Solas Tristan.” He could only groan in response, stilling even more as you began to wiggle on his cock, urging him to move. You were full to bursting and need him to move. “Please.” Before he could start pounding into you like you both wanted, Ithan walked in, headphones blasting music loud enough that you could hear it over the sounds of the shower, completely oblivious to the two of you. Well, he was, until he took breath and scented the air.

His eyes flashed to yours then traveled down your neck and chest, catching on Tristan’s back and…ass, you assumed. Tristan rested his head against your neck for a second then slowly pulled you off of his cock. You whimpered at the loss of fullness, head leaning back against the tiled wall. Tristan guided you to your feet, and turned to Ithan.

“Hi Pup.” Ithan swallowed, and stared at the both of you, transfixed. “Tiny and I are taking a shower, do you want to join us?” Ithan nodded silently, and you felt a rush of wetness between your legs. Tristan moved you in front of him, and he dipped his fingers into your pussy for just a moment. You gasped, leaning back into his touch. “Great, you can help me make sure Tiny gets clean.” You whipped your head towards him, but he only stared at Ithan.

“Tiny, baby, can you help Ithan get ready for the shower?” You nodded, carefully stepping out of the shower and towards Ithan. Pushing yourself up on your tip toes so that you could kiss him while you slid his shirt off, kissing down his chest while you pushed his pants down his legs, kneeling further to nuzzle your face at his hips as you pulled off his briefs and pressed a kiss to the left of his thick cock. He had more girth than Tristan, and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

One little lick couldn’t hurt, and you didn’t have the self control anyways. Grabbing Ithan’s cock, you licked a wet line on the underside of his cock savoring the taste of the precut dripping down. Ithan groaned, but before he could do anything, Tristan spoke.

“Pup, come put Tiny on my cock.” Without question, Ithan lifted you in his arms, and you wrapped your arms and legs around him. You whimpered as he walked, you could feel your clit rubbing against his abs. When he made it to the shower, and lifted you towards Tristan you could see a string of your wetness reaching from his abdomen to your pussy. The sight was enough to make all of you groan, and as Ithan lifted you back towards Tristan you dropped your head back onto Tristan’s shoulder.

“Good boy, Pup.” Ithan let out a whimper, and a pump of precum slipped down his shaft. Your pussy clenched in solidarity. Tristan gripped your thighs, spreading you open right in front of Ithan. “Hold my cock still for her Pup.” You couldn’t see much as Tristan lowered you back onto his cock, but you couldn’t help the breathless wail that escaped when he dropped you onto the last few inches.

You felt Tristan’s groan rumble from his chest to your back, and you tried to breathe normally. With Tristan filling you up and Ithan playing with your tits, it didn’t really work. Ithan groaned, and you noticed he was gripping his cock in front of you, staring straight at the point where you and Tristan were joined.

“T, please.”

“You’re both so polite when you want to get fucked aren’t you?” Before you could snipe at him, Tristan fucked into you one, two, three times. Hard. “Pup, I want you to get on your knees and clean Tiny’s thighs and pussy up. She’s made quite the mess.” Ithan dropped to his knees just like Tristan directed, and began lapping at your thighs. As you relaxed into the feeling, Tristan began to move, fucking up into you. By the time Ithan got to your clit, you were well and truly floating.

“Great job Pup, I think you deserve a reward.” Ithan rested his head on your thigh as Tristan continued to coo. “Don’t you think Ithan deserves a reward Tiny?” You nodded, dazed. Tristan lowered your legs to the ground and leaned you forward. You whimpered at the feeling of Tristan’s dick pushing deeper into you. “Stand up Pup. Let Tiny clean you up now.” Tristan grabbed your left arm for leverage as he resumed fucking into you, and you used your other to reach for Ithan’s cock.

You started at the tip, licking the precum away and savoring the taste. You listened as everyone’s moans echoed off the bathroom tiles and when Ithan grabbed your head, you sank deep into that floating feeling. You licked down the rest of his shaft, and sucked him down so far you felt him in the back of your throat. It wasn’t long until Ithan was groaning just a little bit louder than you and Tristan.

“Ready to come Pup?” You couldn’t see his answer, but you felt Ithan tense under your hand, and within seconds, he was filling your mouth. Ithan switched from holding your head to stroking your hair, and allowed you to suck until he was so sensitive he had to pull out of your mouth himself. As soon as Ithan pulled out, Tristan began fucking you in earnest. You closed your eyes as Ithan caressed your face. Soon enough, you were ready to cum, and Tristan could tell, he slowed his pace and pulled you back up against his chest. Ithan followed, stepping back into the tub, pressing his chest to yours and nuzzling into your neck.

“Pup, you want to help Tiny come hard don’t you?” You felt Ithan nod against your neck. “Then I need you to rub her little clit, while I finish fucking her tight little pussy.” You whimpered at the words. “Can you do that for us Pup?”

“Yeah T.” Ithan’s voice was raw and low. Nearly a subvocal growl, but he didn’t seem to notice, merely planting his hand on your belly and brushing his thumb across your clit. You jolted at the feeling and Tristan resumed his pace. It took you seconds to fall off the edge and you pulled Tristan along with you easily.

The three of you panted together, you sandwiched between the two men you’d been dreaming about for months, fucked beyond belief, and so freaking happy.

“I think we should all get to my bed and rest up before round two. What do you think Tiny? Pup?” Tristan accented your nicknames with a nip at your cheek causing you and Ithan to giggle before breaking out into laughter, stumbling to Tristan’s bedroom to do exactly as suggested.

________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you liked it! I wasn’t seeing enough Tristan fic honestly, and decided to write my own. I was def inspired by ‘And They Were Roommates’ by @vermillionflames and this ask by @writingsbychlo (I’ve absolutely devoured their Azriel fics so I’m not surprised at least one of them inspired me 🤷🏾‍♀️) cause it was just so cute!

I also saw this amazing art and took one look at Flynn’s wiki picture and knew I couldn’t resist writing this one. I’m not really a smut writer (I’m definitely a smut reader 😏) so I hope it was okay!

🍪 If you want the recipe to the cookies you and Ithan make, you can find it here. They are so fucking good y’all, totally worth the effort!

Happy reading (and baking)!

#My writing #mine #tristan flynn #ithan holstrom #tristan flynn fic #ithan holstrom fic #hosab #hoeab #crescent city #sjmass #tristan flynn smut #ithan holstrom smut #tristan flynn x read #ithan holstrom x reader

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fluffallamaful · 1 year

Text

George’s Birthday Kisses

🦙🦙🦙…

better late than ever… 😅 this is a sequel to a wip lmao. i’m sure i’ll finish it at some point, but i’m also sure you’ll be able to fill in the gaps 😍

Summary: The Dream Team are baking a cake for George’s birthday. George is being a menace. Dream leaps at the idea of giving George birthday kisses. George is too ticklish for birthday kisses. SPLENDIDLY PLATONIC

Warnings: tickles

Word Count: shortish

please enjoy omfg

🦙🦙🦙…

The atmosphere in the Dream Team home had never been sweeter, crisp autumn air snuggled into the scent of a freshly baking vanilla cake — the chosen flavour for George’s birthday that year.

The ravenette’s arrival in Florida had brought an everlasting smile to Dream’s lips, as well as a landslide of opportunities. It was easy to forget that only a month ago, Dream had been sitting on his porch in a hurricane by himself, watching the tire tracks of the construction workers’ trucks disappear beneath the downpour.

It was as though he had been warped to a whole new planet.

“George, I can literally see you grabbing more flour.” Sapnap’s grumbled complaint rumbled out from beside Dream, pulling a scoffed chuckle from the older as he continued his stirring.

It was no coincidence that he had been placed in charge of the icing; conveniently standing between his two other housemates. It was made avidly clear that morning that George had woken up in one of his crazier moods — no doubtably propelled by the fact that it was his birthday — and he had quickly latched onto Sapnap with the aim to dispel his untamed energy.

“Chat? should I~?”

“No, fuck off.”

Dream lifted his head to roll his eyes in the cheeky ravenette’s direction, smile widening hopelessly at the sight of the mound of flour in his hand.

“George.” George let out a few delighted giggles at his warning tone, clearly adoring the attention.

The house was already a mess but Dream was still content on at least keeping his clothes a little less flour-covered than Sapnap’s. He was also well aware that the younger man could only take so much button-pressing; his brown sweatshirt was already coated white.

The alert of another donation pinged from the computer in front of them. Dream leapt at the opportunity to derail George’s threat.

“Did Dream or Sapnap get you any birthday gifts this year?” He read out, pausing to check the consistency of his icing afterwards. It was just about ready.

“No they didn’t. They hate me actually.” Dream’s jaw dropped in offence.

“No! That’s not true!” He defended, the idea of not caring for his once-long distant best friend being intolerable. “You didn’t ask for anything!! Chat, we don’t do birthday gifts.” He stated firmly.

“He’s on track for a knuckle sandwich though. Maybe that can be his birthday gift instead.” Both boys giggled at Sapnap’s suggestion. “Birthday punches.”

“Birthday kisses.” George chipped back, dark, playful eyes locking onto Dream’s as he turned his head. Dream quickly averted his gaze, blush rising to his cheeks. The comment had been a reference to his own birthday, in which Sapnap had been convinced by chat to give him birthday kisses. It was an intentional dig at Dream’s pride, an attempt to embarrass him live on stream, and it had worked.

“Look he’s embarrassed!!” An overjoyed cackle rang out through the kitchen. Dream shook his head as an accusing finger was shoved into his face.

“I’m not!!”

“Ohhh… Does Gogy want birthday kisses??” Sapnap crooned, evidentially not as easily derailed as Dream was, though a panicked protest from George was enough for him to find his composure.

“Wait yeah!? How come we didn’t give you birthday kisses??” He quipped, grappling at the taunting finger beside him. He chuckled as George let out a panicked squeal, his own smile widening as George’s eyes creased into crescents of a giddy bliss.

“Noho!!” The older squeaked, halfhearted and with no fight. Dream reeled him into his side, squeezing his shoulder tight.

“Aww come on… What are you afraid of?”. He crooned, dropping his voice to a smooth taunt, and wrapping his free arm around George’s middle. He manoeuvred him to a behind hug, grinning and feigning a few kissy noises beside his ear as a bout of flustered giggles and huffs tumbled out from the ravenette.

“Naww was that a giggle?! Is George getting all giggly?” Sapnap teased playfully, taking a few steps towards them, and dipping his hand into the bag of flour on his way over.

Dream laughed at him, countering George’s panicked squirms by wrapping his arms around his chest. Part of him felt the need to pull George away from Sapnap, but quite frankly he was sure that his cheeks were still at least a little pink, so this would be a good distraction for the stream.

“NOHo! Stohop!!”

“Ohhh but you thought it was so funny to do it to me!?” Sapnap matched Dream’s wide grin, stalking his way closer and closer whilst making show of the mound of flour in his hand.

“Dreheheam!!”

“Hm?” Dream let his head drop innocently to the crook of George’s neck, purposely humming against his skin. A victorious smile crept up his lips as flustered huffs and splutters intertwined themselves into the his friend’s giggles. “Ohhh he’s embarrassed!!” He teased cheekily, mocking George from earlier, and wrangling up the smaller’s hands once they tried to push away his own. He held them firmly to George’s chest.

“nOhoho I’M nOhot!!”

“What’s so funny??” A shrill scream rang out through the kitchen as Sapnap’s stalking finally reached close enough to dust his hands across the black fabric of George’s hoody. The scream was then followed by a wave of choppy protests, and the thumping of George’s feet as he stamped them into the kitchen floor.

“NAHHH HAH HAAHHH!!”

“He’s got the giggles!!”

“NOho Sap-NAhAP — DREHEAM!!” Another scream tore through George throat as Dream began to place the first of his birthday kisses against George’s neck, peppering them in a soft trail up its side.

Dream half expected George to leap out of his skin once he started, but to Dream’s absolute surprise, he found that George seemed to all but melt into his arms instead. He smiled fondly as loud laughter was immediately replaced by soft, squeaky giggles, squeezing his eyes shut as a surge of affection washed through him.

“Nohohohoho!!” George tittered helplessly, shaking his head in attempt to block out Dream’s sweet attack. He tightened his hold around George to steady him, squeezing his wrists and letting his kisses trail up to George’s cheek. It really did feel like another planet.

“Naww he’s gone all squeaky? Whahat!?” Sapnap mused, dotting a few flour covered pokes into George’s ribs and belly. George shook his head wildly.

“Nohoho this ihihisn’t—” Dream watched his eyeline dart nervously to the camera, smiling into his kisses as the warmth from George’s cheeks could be felt in against his own. He moved them up to his temple, causing George to shake his head again, and his hands to tug at his own.

“What’s wrong?“ He mumbled, squeezing the smaller boy closer as he choked his way through flustered giggles. He let his kisses move down past George’s ear to his jaw, lingering over the skin just beside his ear. “Too ticklish for birthday kisses?” He murmured.

“Ss-stahahahap you didn’t— nahaha— thihihis ihihisn’t—“ Dream grinned as his taunt produced a rather satisfying flurry of protests to fall from George’s mouth.

“Definitely sounds like he’s a little ticklish to me.” Sapnap agreed, drilling his thumbs into a pair of particularly sensitive ribs.

“SAHAHAPNAP!!” George squealed, leaping and bounding in Dream’s arms as the new tickly current raced through him. He threw his head back into loud cackles, tugging at his arms and buckling at the knees.

“What have I found in here Georgie~?” Sapnap crooned calmly, kneading deep circles into the two ribs. Dream placed a few kisses along the meaty part of his neck, pulling him to his chest to prevent him from falling. “Is this a really ticklish spot?”

George could only shake his head in response, laughter going silent for a moment as Dream moved up to place several small, butterfly kisses behind his ear.

“Nohohoho the streheam- youhuhu dihidn’t— Dreheheam dihihidnt—” He choked out, stamping his feet into the floor again as Sapnap began to move his kneading up his ribcage.

“Nawww he can barely speak!!” Dream crooned against George’s ear, flutters of adoration coursing through his body. He placed a few kisses onto the shell of the ear itself, shivering at the memory of Sapnap doing the same thing to him.

“Nohohoho stohohop!!” George squealed, desperately trying to slam his head down to his shoulder. “Dreheheam couhuhuld’t—” Dream felt his heart squeezes as a bubbly wave of giggles shook through his friend’s body. “Dream couhuhuldn’t be seheen!” He finally managed, hands yanking once again at Dream’s hold. His face was bright red, clearly embarrassed.

Dream instinctively let the tugging hands go, watching with a fond gaze as they planted themslves promptly over George’s cheeks.

He did technically did have a point after all… Dream’s birthday kisses were before his face reveal…

“Alright, alright you big baby.” Sapnap groaned, rubbing at George’s well-kneaded ribs to help calm down him down. “Dream how many have you done?” He asked, helping George brush away some of the flour from his body

“How many have I done?”

“Like, how many kisses?”

“Ohhhh…” The sudden realisation that he was supposed to be counting twenty-six kisses twisted in Dream’s chest, prompting a rosey blush to return promptly to his cheeks. He had been so caught up in George’s reactions that he had completely forgotten to count how many he had done.

“Were you not counting??”

“Dreahem!!”

“What?! Am I not allowed to show you affection? Georgie~” Dream defended, attempting to quell his embarrassment by hiding himself away behind George’s head, and placing a few strategic kisses into the nape of his neck to redirect the attention of the room.

“nAHohoh sTOHOp!! Youhuhu ihihidiot!!” George yelped, leaning himself forward and away from Dream’s mischievous diversion. Dream easily followed.

The same squeaky laugh from before returned, along with the padding of George’s feet against the floor. The attack only lasted until George started trying to turn himself around in Dream’s arms. Dream loosened his grip to allow him space to do so, beaming down with absolute adoration as George’s shoulders’ shook with each residual titter that tumbled out of him. He shot Sapnap a prideful smile. The younger rolled his eyes.

“Yeah ok ok, we get it smiley, he’s adorable.”

“No mohohohore!!” George tittered, the plead muffled into Dream’s chest. Dream had to remind himself that he was indeed still on Earth, and in this world.

“It’s ok I’m done, I’m done.” He promised, hugging the giggly boy in tightly, and then unwinding him from his chest and patting him reassuringly on the shoulder.

George’s face was blotchy red with embarrassment, his lips twisted into the resulting expression of a giddy smile and a feigned pout combined. His hands immediately clasped around the hem of his hoody, dragging it up and burying his face into it.

Thankfully for the smaller, the ringing timer from his phone provided him with the opportunity to divert the stream’s attention away from himself, and onto his baking birthday cake instead.

Dream shook his head fondly. The air in the Dream Team home truly had never been sweeter.

🦙🦙🦙…

it’s been 7 months 😵‍💫 how absolutely insane

#lee!george #ler!sapnap #ler!dream #fluffallamaful fics #mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #lee!georgenotfound

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countrymusiclover · 1 year

Text

4 - He Deserves A Chance

Part 5

The Texas Tire Family

Tags - @supernaturalgirl30 @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @patriciaplictisita

Sitting in the parking lot outside Dairy Queen, Georgie was finishing up some stuff at the gambling room so I was picking up dinner for us and Aurora. Biting into my burger I heard someone knock on my window so I cracked open the door a little bit. “Can I help you?”

The guy apparently had walked out of the restaurant but I could smell alcohol in his breath. “Hey doll, care for…a…beer…with me.” He slurred his words where I sat my burger down in my lap glancing to my daughter.

“Uh no thanks. I am underage.” I responded by going to close my door but he grabbed the door handle seeing my baby girl in the passenger seat.

He smirked, yanking me out of the truck where I screamed and she started crying. “Looks like I found myself a little rebel teenager and her little baby too.” He death gripped my wrists shoving me up against the truck before he blocked me in between him.

“Urgh I said no!” I grunted trying to push him away from me yet he gripped my shirt almost tearing it in half until someone grabbed the guy by the collar of his jacket.

Sliding down the side of the truck I gasped seeing someone punch the guy in the jaw until he was fast first flat on the blacktop ground. Lifting my gaze upward I recognized the person who walked over to me offering me their freehand. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“George…um yeah. How did you figure I was here?” I asked when he pulled me to stand on my feet before I turned around seeing Rora had a scared look on her face. Unbuckling Rora from her car seat I gently picked her up feeling her calm down when she laid her head on my chest. “Sssh sweetheart mommy is fine.”

George scans over my body seeing some of my clothes were torn but nothing too serious where we would have to go to the hospital. “Okay well let’s get you guys home. I’ll take Aurora.” He gently took her from my arms, putting her back in the car seat.

Climbing back in my seat he followed me from behind and thankfully I made the drive home without any problems. Walking through the door of the apartment he held it open for me so I could lay her down in the bed. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. But I am fine from here.”

“I’m not going to leave you until Georgie gets back. That guy could have really hurt you.” He responded sitting down beside me on the couch in our apartment.

Running my hands through my hair I sighed knowing it was a miracle that he was there. “Why were you out in town tonight. I thought you stopped going to the bar when I told you I was pregnant.”

“Don’t tell Mary but I was stressed after work. I saw you there and I knew I couldn’t let that bum touch my daughter in law.” Geoegie explained resting his hand on my shoulder before I hugged him gently. He hugged me slowly before with a weak smile.

Georgie hit the ignore call button on his phone for the sixth time today since we had picked the girls up from the mall earlier. Missy was coming into town so we needed to get the girls to nap because they would want to be awake when she got here. “Seriously I am going to throw my phone out the window if he keeps calling me!”

"He would stop if you picked up the phone and agreed to go to his wedding." I spat shooting him an annoyed gaze from the passenger seat.

Georgie grumbled some curse words under his breath getting out of the truck. He opened the apartment door with me carrying Eve in my arms. He had already put Aurora down for her nap in their shared room. "Are we seriously gonna do this the whole weekend until he leaves town, Y/n."

Spinning around in my brown boots I pointed my finger at him not really caring if he didn't want to have the conversation. "Yes we are, George Marshall. He's your brother for crying out loud!"

“But he also left after my father died and didn’t do anything to help us!” He raised his voice at me where I could hear his accent break at bringing it up. No matter how many years it had been we all still were broken by George passing away from a heart attack.

I always felt sad knowing that the girls would never know one of their grandpa’s. He was a great father in law to me. He told me that I was the best girlfriend Geoegie ever had when we were kids. “You’re right but I refuse to have our kids not know their Uncle Sheldon. Plus I want to meet the real girl who managed to get the eleven year old genius to marry. As far as any of us thought he would end up marrying a robot that he built instead of a human girl.”

“Fine darlin’….I’ll go see him but you’re coming with me. Let’s wake the girls up.” He slumped his shoulders causing me to squeal, flinging my arms around him in a hug. Breaking the hug I gently shook the girls awake telling them to get back in the truck heading to the hotel.

Stepping off the elevator Eve shot in front of us on her skateboard banging on the door number to the room Leonard had sent me in case we changed our minds before they left. “Open up Uncle scientist!”

“Sssh Eve. There are other people.” I made the girl be quiet, not needing some upset Texas neighbors in this hotel.

The door opened where the four of us stood outside seeing Leonard open the door with a half smile seeing us actually there. “I’m here to talk to my brother.” He moved out of the way letting us inside seeing Sheldon sitting on the bed complaining with room service.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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zal-eska · 1 year

Text

Forevermore (TweekxCraig)

Creek Soulmate AU: Everyone's eyes colour matched their soulmates appearance.

Also on AO3

͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Craig watched with a heavy heart as Tolkien was doting over Nichole. His friend had run into his soulmate while the guys were all out at the amusement park. Tolkien’s bright yellow eyes and Nichole’s deep purple eyes had met when they were standing in line for the ice-cream truck.

It had been 3 hours since it happened. Craig could do nothing but stare as the two fell into a natural and perfect harmony together. They were already so obsessed with one another, Craig just didn’t understand.

How could a stranger make Tolkien so happy, give him a look of so much love that it made Craig’s heart ache. He didn’t get it, but he wanted it. So badly.

Craig’s eyes were considered a common colour. He had green eyes with swirls of yellow in them, just like his dads. When he was younger there were lots of jokes about his mom being his soulmate, which he hated and found very embarrassing.

Any blond out there could be his soulmate, he’d get a random spike in his heart rate if he ran into a blond person wearing green. He couldn’t help but let hope run through him that his perfect person would find him, even if the whole concept was ridiculous.

Tolkien had now wrapped Nichole up in his favourite blanket, given her a perfectly chilled bottle of water, and was making sure she was comfortable on the spot of the couch she was sitting on. She looked at Tolkien with such love and content before pulling him down beside her to talk.

His stupidly common colour of eyes made it impossible to try and catch who would be his soulmate. Craig had never felt more alone, even Jimmy had run into his perfect person, Nancy, 2 years ago.

“Bebe is going to love you, Nichole. We've been soulmates since kindergarten!” Clyde was now excitedly showing Nichole photo’s of his soulmate. The girl he had been obsessed with since they were kids. “She’ll be over in a second. She’s been looking forward to another one of the guys to find a soulmate.”

“Ye-yeah. Bebe has a whole fah-folder of group dates ready.” Jimmy added with a fond smile on his face, obviously thinking of the previous double date Bebe had planned.

At the time, Craig didn’t understand how Clyde just knew that Bebe was his soulmate. He still didn’t. He didn’t know how Tolkien and Nichole were able to figure it out from just looking at each other's eyes. It didn’t make sense.

Craig was now 18 and most of his friends were beginning to settle down. After today, he was the last one of his friends to be single. During group outings, he and Tolkien had done everything together. Now, Craig would just have to be that one guy sitting in the corner alone.

He tried not to let his inner turmoil affect the happiness in the room. He didn’t want to spoil Tolkien’s first day with his soulmate. But, he also couldn’t stick around to watch or hear his other two friends tell Nichole about theirs either.

“Are you doing okay, man?” Craig felt a hand on his shoulder, Tolkien’s hand. “We can shut up if you want.”

Craig looked to Jimmy and Clyde and then to Nichole, all of whom had sympathetic faces, making him feel even worse about the situation. Not that he would tell them that.

“I’m good, don’t worry. I’m happy for you, dude.” Craig gave Tolkien a playful jab in the ribs, before continuing to speak. “I just don’t have anything to add.”

“You’ve never met your soulmate?” Nichole asked softly, clearly not wanting to hurt his feelings but wanting to ask him.

He may as well open up to her, she would be around forever from now on.

“No,” Craig shook his head, feeling the bob of the yellow pompom on his hat bounce with the movement. “Not a blond in South Park has been a match for me.”

“Well, maybe she’ll have green hair!” Nichole joked as she tried to lighten his mood. “You never know.”

“Maybe,” Craig lifted the corners of his mouth into a small smile.

The speculation regarding Craig’s potential soulmate was interrupted by Bebe’s loud entrance, immediately introducing herself to Nichole and talking about how cute her outfit was. Bebe was kind and extra friendly, whether you wanted to talk to her or not, she would anyway.

Craig stood up to take a break from all the excitement in the living room, he went to the bathroom across the hall to take a deep breath. He leaned with his back against the door and put his head in his hands, trying his best not to cry.

He was pathetic. Getting upset about something so out of his control.

He made his way over to the large mirror above the sink. He rested his hands on either side of the over-dramatic glass bowl and stared at himself in the mirror. Once again studying his eyes.

The chaotic swirls of yellow and green brought him a small piece of comfort, a reminder that there was somebody out there who was waiting for him. There was somebody out there waiting for him to sweep them off their feet, somebody who he could cherish and take care of. Somebody he could bring over to Tolkien’s basement to hang out with his friends and their soulmates. Somebody who Bebe could gush over like she did to Nichole and Nancy.

͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

Craig quickly read over the ominous message from Bebe regarding their group plans that night. She had arranged a day during the weekend for everyone to have some drinks in her house to celebrate Tolkien and Nichole. Craig had been instructed to get the decorations, deliver them to Bebe’s house and help her and Clyde set up the party zone.

He wasn’t particularly looking forward to being a third wheel to three couples. A seventh wheel? But he was looking forward to getting drunk at Bebe’s, he needed to deal with the annoying emotions he had been having the past couple of days somehow.

As he was walking up the street towards the store where Bebe had ordered the decorations from, he felt a body crash into his and a bunch of small white boxes spill out from a larger cardboard one. The boxes had spread out everywhere, some even getting onto the road.

Before Craig could tell the person off for not looking at where they were going, he saw them place another three boxes they were carrying down before starting to fuss and pick up the boxes on the sidewalk.

“I’m so so sorry! I totally didn’t see you walk past, I hope you didn’t get hurt. Oh god!” The boy was smaller than Craig, he seemed fast and jittery in that moment too as he paced back and forth without actually fixing the situation.

The boy continued rambling about how clumsy he was and that he had lost their shop to a customer. His blond hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a decade and his green shirt had been rolled up to his elbows showing a bunch of dark stains on his arms.

It was like he was seeing his eyes in the form of a person. The eyes he had spent his whole life looking at in a mirror were now a person zipping and twitching around the accidental spillage of boxes.

When the boy finally faced Craig for a second, he got a glimpse of the most beautiful, deep blue eyes he had ever seen. While they were mainly blue, the bottoms of his iris’s had a hint of yellow which reminded Craig of his usual blue and yellow aesthetic choice.

It was like this boy had completed everything in Craig’s existence.

Craig realized he had not been listening to a word this boy had said to him in the past couple of minutes. His train of thought had halted as soon as he recognized his soulmate standing less than 5 feet from him.

“It’s you.” Craig managed to breathe out. The only thought in his head was him .

“Can I get you anything? Come on, it’s on the house! Whatever you want,” the boy hurried towards the glass door of the small coffee shop, ushering Craig to walk in before entering himself and hurrying toward the counter.

Did this kid know who he was yet?

Craig slowly, unsurely, entered the shop. The smell of brewing coffee took over his senses and made him feel warm all over. He felt awkward as he stared at the blond boy who was fussing over some cups behind the counter.

Craig walked towards him, unable to glance behind him to check on the mess they had left in the street.

“Hey,” Craig leaned forward and placed his hand on his soulmate's forearm.

Craig would remember this moment forever. The moment his soulmate finally, finally looked into his eyes. It was like his breath was knocked out of his body, all he could see was this beautiful boy who he was lucky enough to be connected to.

“Oh.” Was all his soulmate said back. A blush spread over his pale cheeks as he smiled at Craig. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Craig said back, feeling a wave of euphoria rush through him as he watched the blond boy giggle at his totally braindead response.

“You’re so handsome!” his soulmate grabbed his cheeks and pulled Craig down a couple inches so their faces were closer. Craig let the boy have a feel at his face and neck, he even allowed him to pull off his hat to run his soft hands through his hair. Reveling at the soft and curious touch from his soulmate. “Do you still want a coffee?”

“I, uh-” Craig couldn’t find his words. He didn’t want to tell him no, even though he rarely drinks coffee. Nor was he in this part of town to get any. All he wanted to do was sit in the random coffee shop and stare at the blond who worked there. “I never got your name.”

“Oh, right.” The boy giggled again and let go of Craig to walk away from the counter, towards said door to flip the ‘Open’ sign to read ‘Closed’. “I’m Tweek. My parent’s just moved here and opened the shop.”

“Tweek,” Craig said and smiled warmly at him. “I’m Craig.”

“Hi Craig.” Tweek said back with a shy smile before twitching and grabbing at the front of his shirt before smoothing it out again. A motion that completely melted Craig’s heart. “Sorry about, well, you know, almost knocking you over.”

“No, it’s all good.” Craig replied, biting his lip as he slowly walked closer. “I hope it won’t get you in trouble or anything.”

Tweek shook his head and explained that things like that happened a lot so they had a ton of extra stock. That he was clumsy and too fast to keep up with even himself sometimes.

“Do you want to come with me to collect some stuff for my friend's party today?” Craig asked suddenly, not wanting to leave the boy's side right after he got him. “You can come meet them too, if you want?”

“Yeah, I’d love to. Just give me one second.” Tweek ducked back behind the counter and took off his apron, fiddled around with something on the cash register and came back to Craig’s side. “My parents will understand if I close the shop early for you.”

Craig was sure his face was glowing red as their hands naturally intertwined.

“Where are we headed to, then?” Tweek smiled at him, bright eyes almost sparkling as he looked up at him. “I’m new here, so I’m not totally sure where everything is.”

“Just follow me.” Craig said softly, leading Tweek away from the coffee shop to continue his day.

The whole afternoon he could hardly focus, constantly taking glances at Tweek and meeting his eye before looking away to blush. He got it now. He understood what Tolkien meant when said he just knew it was Nichole at the amusement park the other day.

As they walked towards Bebe’s front door, Tweek was laughing at an anecdote Craig was telling him about Clyde and Bebe’s first meeting when they were young.

“Dude, I’m not kidding. He literally pissed his pants and she didn’t even blink,” Craig chuckled and wrapped his arm around Tweek’s shoulder to bring him close. “It was so gross but to this day she thinks it was the best reaction someone has had to her beauty or some shit.”

“That’s kinda true,” Tweek said as he settled his laughter. “Why didn’t you piss yours for me, huh? I dropped a shit load of stock for you, man.”

Tweek lightly elbowed him and they swayed in their walking.

“Hey, technically you didn’t even see me. I could have pissed my pants and you would have missed it.” Craig rolled his eyes before giving Tweek an affectionate smile.

“True,” Tweek agreed. “I’ll just have to pretend you did then.”

Craig snorted before pushing open Bebe’s front door and dropped the bag of decorations he and Tweek had picked up. He heard voices coming from the kitchen and automatically went to walk forward before a strong grip on his forearm pulled him back.

“What if they don’t like me!” Tweek whisper-shouted, his eyes were wide and seemed hyper-focused on the open kitchen door.

“Dude, of course they will.” Craig placed his hand on Tweek's face to tilt his head toward him. “Don’t worry about it, babe. They’re gonna love you just as much as-”

“CRAIG! You’re late!!” Bebe’s voice screeched before her distinct, high heeled footsteps came to an abrupt halt. “Oh.. my god!”

Craig looked over to glare at the blonde girl with her hand over her mouth, having interrupted his moment with Tweek.

“Hi.” Tweek said shyly, shifting a little closer to Craig who still had a hand on his face. He rubbed his thumb across his cheek as he felt the boy twitch, then removed it in favor of wrapping his arm around his waist in a proud half-hug.

“Bebe… This is Tweek.” Craig said with a wide grin before looking back at Tweek. “My soulmate.”

“No way,” Clyde sobbed loudly, clearly having heard the news from the kitchen. His friend came stumbling out behind Bebe, with arms outstretched and hurrying Tweek and Craig into a group hug as he cried. “Craig, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks Clyde.” Craig patted his back awkwardly before at Bebe who also had tears in her eyes. “Wanna control your man here?”

“Sorry, dude!” Clyde moved back, but not far enough as he grabbed Tweek’s shoulders and made him jump at the sudden movements. “It’s amazing to meet you, Tweek! I knew you wouldn’t have green hair.”

Tweek gave Craig a look of shock as Clyde turned his back to them to cry to Bebe about how happy he was for his best friend. The girl smiled kindly at Clyde before ushering him into the kitchen again to collect himself.

She smiled and winked at Tweek and said, “It’s good to meet you!”

Craig sighed and turned to Tweek to apologize for his friend’s behaviour. However, as soon as the chaotic duo were out of sight Tweek started giggling which surprised Craig.

“You okay?” He asked, concerned he was laughing out of awkwardness or something.

“Yeah, your friends are sweet.” Tweek smiled and leaned on his tip-toes to kiss Craig on the cheek. Once again turning his world upside down with the small show of affection. “Come on.”

Tweek grabbed Craig’s hand to bring him towards where Clyde and Bebe went. Craig was sure he had the dopiest smile on his face as he looked at the blond head of hair bobbing up and down in front of him as they walked into Bebe’s kitchen.

Tweek let go of Craig’s hand in favor of helping Bebe unload some cupcakes from the oven. While Craig watched with a warm smile on his face as Bebe hooked her arm through Tweek’s as they talked animatedly with one another.

He finally had everything he always dreamed of.

͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙ ♡𐡘 𐡘 𐡘 𐡘♡ ͙ ͙۪۪̥ ͙

#my babies fr #they so sweet and fun to write #Tweek Tweak #craigxtweek #Craig and Tweek #craig x tweek #sp tweek #sp creek #craig tucker #tweek south park #craig south park #creek fanfic #creek soulmate au

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