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threeacttragedy · 26 days ago

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Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only

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mansbutchery · 2 months ago

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PALESTINIAN FAMILY HAVING TO START OVER.

@ahedalshaer is a 22-year-old dentistry student who was in her fourth year studying at Al-Azhar University in Ghazza, she was working hard to achieve her goal to become a dentist before the occupation came and halted her from furthering her education in peace.

This campaign is supporting seven people, Ahed, her parents and her siblings. Ahed’s campaign was at 9% of their goal but she unfortunately had to close down her previous campaign due to the person managing it scamming her and her family and running off with the money. They’re back at square one and they are EXTREMELY low on donations right now, the most recent donation was just a day ago, this family desperately needs you to help them survive.

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All this family wants is to return to a peaceful life and evacuate to a safer place, please do anything you can to support them whether that be by donating, reblogging or making a post of your own, it could help a ton!! It doesn’t matter how little your donation is because it WILL have an impact, it could help them buy food for the day or help them purchase heavier clothing and blankets for the winter, it could help them evacuate.

she's been verified,

here , number 407 in this spreadsheet here , this post was made when Ahed still had her previous campaign but she was verified by them.

tagging for reach since i dont have a large platform.

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4pfsukuna · 3 months ago

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No ordinary love

Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.

Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.

Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.

“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.

“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.

“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.

“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”

And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.

You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.

“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.

“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.

“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.

“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.

Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail.

You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.

“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.

And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit.

Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.

Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.

“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.

“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.

“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.

“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.

“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.

“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.

“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.

“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.

“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.

“One piece” he promises easing your mind before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”

And you hang up the phone.

The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.

You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.

“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.

“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.

Years.

You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.

“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.

“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.

“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.

“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.

“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.

Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse. You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.

Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems.

Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.

Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time.

Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.

You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.

“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.

A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.

“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.

“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.

Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.

“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.

“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.

“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.

“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.

“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.

Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.

“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.

“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.

“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.

“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.

“Yeah… i did miss you”

#terry richmond x y/n #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond smut #rebel ridge #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x reader

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 9] Tantrum

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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You’ve known Satoru ever since you were five years old, and yet you’ve never realized just how spoiled and entitled he is. Sure, you knew that his parents would buy just about anything he wanted and he never had to face any consequences but you never really notice. Nor did you care. Not until he’s right in front of you, in front of your desk, and he tells you,

“You’re fired.”

It catches you off guard. You’re completely confused, and you don’t gather your thoughts in time. When you’re about to question what he means, he’s locked in his office. You knock on the door, and when there’s no response, you knock much harsher. He ends up opening the door, a brow raised as he asks, “Did you not hear me?”

“You can’t fire me.” You tell him, and he hums as he pretends to think about it. You’re about to call his mother to tell her about the situation, but Satoru slams the door shut which startles you.

“I want you to pack your shit up and leave this building, you’re fired.” Satoru says. You’re opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of what to say. A comprehensible sentence isn’t forming in your head. “You’re not doing your job properly.”

“I’m not doing my job properly? Last time I checked, I was. I’m just not fucking you like you want me to!” You raise your voice and his eyes widen at what you say. He didn’t realize how outspoken you’ve become, but hearing you say that is a reality check for the man.

“How dare you say that?” He responds, making you roll your eyes. You unlock your phone and look for his mother’s contact. Meanwhile you tell him,

“You’re a fucking horrible person. Why are you trying to take my job away from me when I’ve excelled at my job? Because we have a past together? I’m sorry for dating you, I guess.” You finally find the contact and when you’re about to call her, he takes the phone from your hands.

“Are you trying to call her? What business do you have with her? Why is she employing you?” He asks the questions that remain unanswered. You’re also not giving him an answer. He scoffs at your silence before saying, “Reason doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, and you’re fired.”

“You’re an entitled son of a bitch.” You take your phone back. You’re about to call his mother but you pause. You take a deep breath before you say, “You know, I’m glad you left me. If we had gotten married we would’ve gotten divorced within a year.”

“So suddenly you can remember we have a past together.” He says, making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“You were the one who told me to forget about our past while we worked together, why are you mad that I wasn’t bringing it up!” You argue, and he’s gathering his thoughts while you dial his mother. You put the phone on speaker, and he says,

“There’s no way you’re calling her.” And when she picks up the phone, he hears her voice. There’s no way his own mother would side with you of all people. He’s holding back a smirk, waiting for you to say something, to ridicule yourself.

“Hey, Mrs. Gojo. I’m with your son right now and he’s trying to fire me.” You inform her, and you both hear her sigh. Satoru is waiting for it. She’s going to tell you off, she might be putting up a tough act with him but when it comes between you and him, she’ll obviously side with him.

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t pack your stuff up, he’s just throwing a tantrum.” And she hangs up on you. You smile at Satoru, batting your eyelashes before you tell him,

“I’ll let you handle her. Have fun.” Just as you speak his phone rings, and he sees his mother’s name on the screen.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting that same day when Mrs. Gojo texts you to meet up at a restaurant at lunch. Maybe she wants to talk about Satoru’s awful behavior with you and apologize– You doubt that she’s apologizing, that’s certainly the last thing she’s going to do. You’ve known the woman so long, and you don’t remember her ever apologizing.

You get to the restaurant, and luckily for you, it isn’t something that’s high-end. It’s nice, but nothing extravagant that’ll make you feel bad about how you look. You walk into the place, and tell the hostess the name that the reservation is under, and she leads you to the table. A sigh escaping your lips when you see her and who she’s with. Of course.

“Mrs. Gojo… Gojo.” Your eyes shift from the mother to the son. You know there’s no way you can escape from this, so you might as well sit down comfortably. “What’s the reason for this meeting?”

“I can’t have you two working together while you bicker like children. I need you two to make up.” She says, and you click your tongue. You clear your throat before you tell her,

“Mrs. Gojo, I think it’s best to hurry up with hiring another secretary for your son. As much as I try to ignore it, we have a past together and we simply can’t get along even in a professional manner.” You try your best to be honest with her. You would’ve gladly been demoted back to Shoko’s secretary, but not fired by him. Especially since you know that he did it without his mother knowing.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dear. I put you as Satoru’s secretary because that’s what I think fits best.” She responds. Satoru pinches the bridge of his name while your nails dig into the cloth of your skirt. Right, your opinion doesn’t matter. She’s the one that makes all the decisions around here. You stare at Satoru, waiting to see if he’ll actually say something to her.

To no surprise, he bites down his tongue.

She takes a sip from her water before she clears her throat. “I should get going, you two figure it out. I told the waiter to keep his eye on you.”

This reminds you of when you were kids and Satoru would snatch a toy out of your hands which would ensue an argument. You were always forced to make up, of course Mrs. Gojo wouldn’t be the one to force you because at the time she didn’t want her son to be friends with you. It’d always be your mother.

You’re tempted to leave when she leaves, but you stay in your seat. You’re hungry, you might as well order something. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave either. When the waiter comes around, you both order something.

You sit in silence, awkwardly looking around the place. After around a minute or so, you take your phone out. You open the couple of messages you have from the nanny, and smile as you see your son. He’s playing with the toy cars that his grandmother got him, and you take this opportunity to glance at Satoru and then at your son. You hate how much they look alike, and as you look back and forth you realize they look more similar than what you had in mind.

“How’s Ren?” He asks, and you nearly drop your phone. You furrow your brows as you take a big gulp from your glass. Can he read your mind? He awkwardly looks around before he asks, “Is that not the name of your cat?”

“Yeah.” You laugh. It takes everything in you not to burst into a fit of laughter. You completely forgot that your son is now a cat. You take a sip of water before saying, “He’s good.”

“Maybe we can make up if you show me a picture of your cat.” He says, and you roll your eyes as you shake your head.

“I decide when we make up, after all, you tried to fire me.” You point out. He really can’t argue with that. You tap your finger against the table before you tell him, “I guess you can talk about what you wanted to talk about so badly. Remember when you asked me to dinner?”

“Yeah… I’ve thought about it and that won’t end well.” He confesses. He can’t get rid of you, he doesn’t know why his mother is insistent on you two working together. “I guess… How have you been doing the past five years?”

“I’ve been…” You take a deep breath. You found out your boyfriend got married months after breaking up with you, you had a baby alone, have been raising him alone, overworking yourself to ensure Ren has the best possible upbringing. You’re tired. You sheepishly smile, “Fine. I’ve been fine.”

“You look tired.” He says. You have no idea why his words make your eyes fill up with tears. You chuckle, standing up to use the bathroom.

“That’s what happens when you work for your mom.” You respond. He doesn’t know what else to say, but it’s fine, you walk away to use the bathroom. He bounces his leg as he waits for you. He has to think of what he’s going to say to kill the awkwardness that goes on at your table

There’s a vibrating sound on the table, and he sees that you’ve left your phone. Satoru gets a great idea, you might not want to share much about your life but you’ve left your phone behind. He doubts your password has changed. He holds back, it’s an invasion of your privacy. But if the phone that’s across the table were to magically land in front of him and light up, it wouldn’t be an invasion of your privacy if he just glanced at it.

He’s fighting back on grabbing the phone and checking everything that you have there. His hand lands on the table and he slowly moves his hand. And just when he’s about to reach the phone, you’re back. You ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He tries to play it off, his hand going to his side of the table and he puts his elbow on the table before his head rests on his hand. You try to act as if you didn’t see him reaching for your phone. You came back when you noticed you had left your phone and you feared this would happen. “So um… Are you seeing anyone?”

“I don’t have the time.” You share. Your food finally gets to the table and you get your utensils to begin stuffing your face. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Right.” He awkwardly chuckles. You both begin to eat, and his eyes can’t stop looking at you as you try your best to keep your tableside manners. Satoru can’t eat, his appetite goes away. His stomach growls, wanting food but the thought of eating makes him want to puke. He wipes his mouth with a napkin before he clears his throat. “I apologize for firing you… You are doing a great job and I just–”

“Got in your feelings.” You finish his sentence for him. He ends up sighing. You’re right. You shrug, “As long as you don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t. I promise. Next time around it’s up to my mom.” He responds.

“So we’re stuck working together forever.” You joke. He ends up laughing. He watches you eat, and you feel awkward since he watches you like a hawk. When you swallow the mouthful of food, you ask him a question that keeps bugging you, “Are you and Sayo thinking of having kids?”

“Kids! Kids… Um, we haven’t talked about it. Don’t think she wants them.” He answers, and he sounds unsure about it all. You find it odd considering that’s his wife of five years, but it’s none of your business. You know Satoru wants kids but perhaps he’s changed his mind. “So um… You and Suguru.”

“What about us?” You slightly tilt your head to the side. Satoru doesn’t want to bring it up. He doesn’t want to give you ideas, but he already mentioned Suguru.

“You two seem… Friendly.” He asks, and you know what he’s insinuating.

“I wish… I don’t think he’s into me.” You confess since he hasn’t bothered to contact you ever since he found out about Ren, and Satoru won’t mention the past. He won’t mention it because if he hears that you’ve started dating Suguru, he just might lose his mind.

“How could he not?” He says, and you feel your face get warm.

“Let’s not.” You reply, and he bites his lip. He ends up nodding in agreement. He would have talked to you for hours a couple of years ago, but he doesn’t find a topic to talk about. You don’t know each other anymore.

You keep eating quietly since neither of you want to talk more deeply about the past, and when you’re finished, Satoru calls the waiter to cover the bill. To your surprise, Mrs. Gojo got it covered. You both stand up and exit the restaurant.

You don’t bother saying anything else as you begin to walk to your car, and you assume that Satoru begins to walk the other way until he calls out your name. You come to a full stop and you turn to look at him. You sweetly smile at him, before you ask him, “What’s up?”

You don’t know what to do when he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you so tightly that he sucks the air out of your body. You’re not sure what to do– Whether you want to hug him back or just awkwardly stand as the man that you’ve loved for so long hugs you. He’s been waiting to do it for five years.

And he’s waiting for you to hug him back, but you’re not budging. Until you feel a droplet on your shoulder. His head rests on your shoulder and he sniffles. You finally hug him back, “Don’t cry, Toru. You have no reason to cry.”

It’s muffled but you’re sure you hear an,

“I’ve missed you.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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kurishiri · 6 months ago

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official IkeVil JP twitter role-played with fans as Roger

translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties. Please reblog, not repost!

and here are some of my favorite responses and some tidbits about Roger (and some others, through his eyes) 🥹👌 also I wouldn’t consider these spoilers; they’re more like bite sized fun facts you might find in a random scene in some random side story or event or something lmao also I don’t like the green gun emoji on my phone so I’m using the beer one instead.

1. Roger is trying to get along with Alfons (it’s not working so well though I guess, haha)

💬: Roger!! Have you been getting along with Alfons recently?

🍻: That’s always my intention, but whenever I see him he gives me a kind of disgusted look. So maybe he’s just shy or something.

2. maybe Victor is trying to get everyone drunk…?

💬: Roger, have you gone out to drink with Victor before?

🍻: I don’t think Victor really drinks outside. If anything, he’s the one bringing some good booze back to Crown for us. Could it be — he’s scheming something and trying to get us drunk?

3. Roger can crack a joke 😂👌

💬: I kind of just ate this without knowing what that liquid is, but what is it, actually? 🧪

🍻: That’s a love potion. If you drink it you won’t be able to think about anything but me——just kidding.

4. Roger and Ellis are the strongest!

💬: Who is the strongest in Crown?

🍻: Me, followed by Ellis. You wanna compare our strength now with an arm wrestle? Though I reckon you wouldn’t be able to win against me even if you used both hands.

5. Roger’s worst fight with Alfons

💬: Please tell us the worst episode of a fight you’ve had with Alfons〜!!

🍻: Once during a mission we got into an argument where Al and I almost died — that day I’ve never seen Victor look that quietly angry before.

6. drinking with William! (they’re the older bros of the group)

💬: What do you talk about with William when you drink with him?

🍻: Will knows a lot, so we’ll talk about all sorts of stuff. Like how Victor’s overworking himself, or how Jude’s got bad feet, or how Liam hurt himself again——wait, what are we, their guardians?

7. Alfons bombed the drinking date

💬: Hey Roger, what sweets do you like? Other than Alfons’ scone.

🪞: Are we talking about me? Oh, that’s my handmade scone that I put a lot of love into. Don’t you feel naughty with just one bite? What do you think is in it?

🍻: Hey, you, get out and go somewhere else already.

8. drinking with Elbie!

💬: Have you drank with Lord Elbert before? 🥺🍻💚💙

🍻: I have, yes. But I can never tell whether he’s drunk or not.

🪞: That’s because he always looks drunk.

🍻: Oy, Al, what are you doing here? Tonight’s supposed to be just me and the lil lady, so don’t get in the way like that. Shoo shoo!

9. Roger doesn’t just drink beer (surprise surprise!)

💬: What do you like to drink other than beer?

🍻: I also drink whisky, though I always prefer beer. What about you, lil lady?

10. Roger comforts you after a long day of work

💬: Roger, I finally finished work…

🍻: There, there, you did well. I remember your efforts very well. Good job today.

11. Jude and drinking, according to Roger

💬: When you’re drinking with Jude, have you seen him when drunk before? I want to know what he’s like when he’s drunk.

🍻: Can’t say I’ve seen him drunk before. It seems like that guy always got a calm look on his face, no matter how much he drinks.

12. what Ellis is like when drunk

💬: Cheers! I have a question, what is Ellis like when drunk?

🍻: Ellis isn’t that weak to alcohol… but he becomes a bit more fluffy than normal, I guess. But he can walk back to the castle just fine.

13. trying to get Ellis drunk…?!

💬: I heard Ellis is a little weak to alcohol. Have you taken care of him when he was drunk? Also how many cups does it take for him to become drunk?

🍻: Pfft, haha… Are you trying to get Ellis drunk? I’ll have you know Ellis is like a cute younger brother to me, so I won’t tell. I have taken care of him though——let’s leave it at that.

14. who can hold their alcohol in Crown?

💬: Who is the worst at holding their alcohol in Crown?

🍻: I think everyone in Crown is pretty good at holding their alcohol. But should we put that to the test? …No way, this really isn’t for me to gather information on them?

15. he be takin care of Crown when they’re drunk

💬: Who do you drink with most often? And have you taken care of someone when they got drunk!?

🍻: Taking care of someone… Ellis — no, Al, maybe? Oh, and also Jude… whoops, can’t say any more than that, or he’ll be after me.

16. what Harry drinks

💬: I always get the impression Harry drinks strawberry milk a lot, but when it comes to alcohol, what does he drink? I want to know 🦊🍸

🍻: Harry likes whisky soda. It goes well with chocolate, and I’ve seen him eating it together with the drink. Noww then, now that I’ve told you some important information, you’ll stop that lying fox from eating too much sweets for me, won’t you?

17. Roger’s advice for those who simp to the point of illness 😆

💬: My friends love you to the point they might be a little ill, Roger. They love you so much it’s too much for me to handle. Is there medicine to make them feel better?

🍻: I can introduce you to a doctor I know who has some good medicine. Want me to? His name’s Roger Barel.

18. he cooks?!?!

💬: I want to eat a meat entree with you, Roger! (this is sausage and roast pork that I made) 😋🍽️🥩✨ What’s your favorite type of meat? And what other foods do you like?

🍻: I would say steak, but any meat is good. But I also like salty things too. Sometimes I make things that go well with alcohol. Want some?

19. oh..? 😳

💬: Yippeeee✨✨✨ it’s everyone’s older brother Roger!! Congrats on your main story🎉💕 I really look forward to this summer! (I have 🦑 with beer)

🍻: You have as much excitement as Victor! For sure, look forward to it. I’ll make it a summer you won’t ever forget.

20. Roger’s recommended drinks

💬: I want to know your drink recommendations!

🍻: Mine is beer, beer, and more beer. Ah, having some ginger ale in between seems pretty good too.

21. he drinks with Ellis and Jude often!

💬: Out of the members of Crown, who have you been drinking with recently? Have you drank with them several times…! 🍻✨

🍻: I go out to drink with Jude and Ellis quite a bit. Well, I think I prefer drinking together with you the most though.

22. he loves meat at the end of the day eheh

💬: I’m thinking of drinking with you tonight🍻 What do you eat (snack) with alcohol? I’m thinking chips goes well.

🍻: My favorite is salty meat. But chips go well with beer too. Should we order some?

23. Roger’s advice for those who just turn the legal age

💬: I’ve turned the legal age, what do you recommend for a first timer…? Was your first drink a beer…?

🍻: At first, you should go for drinks that don’t have high alcohol content to see if you can drink it or not. Other than that, drink together with someone. For example, with me. And of course, the first drink I had was beer!

24. Roger’s favorite drinking partner is… ✨✨

💬: Is there anyone you want to drink alone with?? What types of things would you talk about with them!?✨

🍻: The one drinking in front of me, right now.

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cryptic--writing · 1 month ago

Note

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him.

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this. Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home.

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life.

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer.

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home.

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of.

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked, still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again.

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath.

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.”

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months.

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right?

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had.

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do.

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said.

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said.

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?”

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,”

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?”

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites.

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up.

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office.

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers.

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late?

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin.

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made.

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it.

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor.

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

#metallica fanfiction #j4h7 #metallica smut #metallica x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x you #James hetfeild x reader]#James hetfield #metallica #Metallica fanfic #this is so long #I love you annon #James hetfeild fanfic #megadeth #metal #Metallica x you

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 10 months ago

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hey so i finally wrote more witch au!

enjoy, friends!! though it's significantly shorter than the first part

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,004 | rated: T

Mama thinks that Steve’s had a love spell on him this whole time.

“Since when?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know, my dear, maybe since before you were even born.”

“What?! How?! I thought you said there was no such thing as love spells!” He knows that’s not true.

“There are none that are worth the pain.” she repeats, trying to placate him.

“Yeah, well.” Steve huffs, dropping his hands to his hips and heaving a sigh.

“But there are some that are rumored to be true love spells, soulmate spells.” She continues on when she sees the look on his face. “Rumored, Steven, only ever rumors.”

“Okay, so what do the rumors have to say about them?”

“Every spell like that I’ve ever heard of of this nature is specific to each caster.”

“So I’ve had this spell on me for possibly my whole life, and there’s no way to know anything about it or about the caster.”

“...I’m sorry, honey.”

“Maybe there are clues in the words you have.” Robin cuts in, reaching for the notepad and sliding it in front of her.

Steve huffs, “I need to know the whole thing; there’s definitely words missing.”

“Should you eat more bread?” Robin asks, already sliding the previously abandoned plate of bread towards him.

“You shouldn’t overwhelm yourself.” Mama says, pushing the plate back. “We don’t know if there’s a trigger to the spell, or if you and the caster’s paths will just cross one day, maybe they don’t even know they cast it.”

Steve blinks at her. “So I have a true love and they might not even want me?”

“No!” Robin belts out immediately.

“No, of course not,” Mama says, continuing on. “The one known thing about any spell like this is that they only work on those who are receptive to it.”

“So some weirdo can’t put you under their spell?”

“Yes, exactly Robin; Steve, whatever this is, whoever this was, they love you with all that they are. And you them.”

“I don’t even know who it is! How can I?”

Mama doesn’t have an answer besides saying “Your soul must know them already.”; Their conversation was over soon after that.

Steve spends the next couple days silent and brooding. He can’t stop thinking about how he’s what, marked to love someone he doesn’t even know? How’s that fair?

It could be any random person on the street that thought he was hot, some weird old guy or a lovesick middle schooler..He only just turned 25 the day before the bread incident, but he’s saddled with this huge unknown that isn’t going to get better any time soon?

Okay, apparently not just some weirdo according to Mama, but still. Un-fucking fair all the same.

He’s also pissed that he can’t give anyone all the baked goods he’s made within that time. Each and every one of them ending up with a sour aftertaste.

“Damn witch bullshit…” he grumbles to himself, only half serious, as he scrapes another batch of sour sugar cookies into the trash.

He’s salty, okay? Pun intended. If he hadn’t ever learned the truth about the powers over food his grandmother (and now him too, apparently) has, he could’ve just excused the batch after batch being off on bad butter, or old flour.. Something other than his mood being what’s ruining his cookies.

That’s what he’d done every other time something he’s made tasted off, now he knows it was him the whole time.

Mama comes in then, he doesn’t have to look up to know the look she’s giving him.

Steve leaves the bowl of leftover dough on the counter, mumbles out a “I gotta go.”, then tromps out the back door and into the woods behind his grandparents’ home.

He supposes it’s good that they live just outside the city, really, having the trees to escape under like this has helped him before, and he’s hoping will help him now.

Meandering through the underbrush, he strolls along until he reaches the small clearing he’d claimed for himself when he was what, 8? 9? Doesn’t matter. It’s his spot to get away from anything he needs to.

He sits down against the big oak at the edge of the clearing and tips his head back toward the sun filtering down on him through a gap in the canopy above him. He breathes in the fresh air, focuses on the warmth hitting his face, and just exists there for a while, slipping in and out of a soft snooze.

Suddenly, he’s shocked out of his dozing by the sound of twigs snapping underfoot.

If it were coming from behind him, he’d expect it’d be Robin coming to find him here, but it’s not. It’s coming from ahead of him across the clearing.

Steve stands and presses back into the trunk of the tree, wondering if there’s bears in these woods when a person stumbles through the tree line.

The man is thin, about Steve’s age if he were to guess, and covered in dirt, his light wash overalls and his boots are caked in it. His hair is long, pulled half-back away from his face and full of bracken from the forest.

He also seems to be in a daze, staring with dark eyes at Steve with an unfathomable expression.

It shifts soon after, though, warming into a watery smile. “I’ve come home to you.” he says, clear as day, then collapses onto the grass.

“Oh, shit!” Steve rushes forward, kneeling down beside the man and quickly checking him over for injuries.

Steve presses his fingers to the man's pulse confirm it's still there (it is) and there don’t seem to be any bruises or breaks in his limbs, so he goes to his head, feeling quickly under the tangles in his hair for any blood, any knots.

Nothing. There’s nothing apparently outwardly wrong with him.

“Hey, hey, wake up! You gotta stay with me, man.” he says, shaking him lightly.

The other man’s head lolls to the side and his eyes open a crack, his lips quirking up into a smile. “M’love…”

“What is your name?” Steve insists in a slow, clear voice.

Instead of answering, the man raises his hand slowly to cup Steve’s cheek. “...v’wait’d so long..” he slurs, then goes limp again, his hand dropping to his chest.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve gets his feet under him and gathers the man up into his arms in a bridal carry. His steps falter when he feels how light the man is in his arms, how much more thin he is than how he’d looked.

Steve adjusts his hold on him, making sure not to let his head hang backward over his forearm, and rushes back toward the house.

“Mama!” he shouts as soon as he clears the treeline into the yard.

She’s at the back sliding door as soon as he is. “Steve, honey, what—”

He pushes past her, hurrying to the spare room on the first floor with her on his heels. “I found him wandering the woods, I couldn’t just–I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Mama.”

She gestures him forward to the bed, “Put him there, on top the covers,”

He does, setting him down as if he’s made of glass.

As soon as the man is out of his arms, Mama takes his place. “Nothing seems broken, but he’s so light, he needs food, he needs water, should I call 911? I don’t even know his na—” he rambles on, not even realizing he’d started to pace until his grandma stops him in his tracks.

“Steve, listen to me.” she says, pulling at his wrists gently, removing his hands from his hair. “He will be fine. Now, go get a bowl of warm water and a washcloth and come straight back here.”

He nods dazedly, stumbling backward out the doorway and spinning to the kitchen.

Steve slides to a stop on the tile floor in front of the kitchen sink at the same time Robin gets home from her classes that day.

“I have a date!”

Wait, he needs the bowl first. He scrambles to the opposite counter for the large mixing bowl Mama uses for her damn bread and fishes it out with a clatter of everything that that had been in front of it on the shelf tumbling out to the floor.

“Steve?”

Should he put soap in it?

“Steve!”

No, Mama just said ‘warm water’, not ‘warm soapy water’. He nods to himself and turns on the tap, reaching under the sink next for a washcloth.

“Steven Otis Harrington.”

“Oh, hey Robin, you’re home.” The bowl’s almost full.

“Steve.” She spins him to face her, holding tightly to his shoulders.

He tries to twist back around futilely, “The bowl–”

“Steve. What. Is. Happening.”

He blinks at her a couple times. “Robin!” He pulls her to him in a tight hug. “Holy shit, you’re not gonna believe–”

“Steve, the bowl?”

“Shit,” It’s nearly full when he shuts off the tap, so he dumps a bit out and picks it up with both hands, “C’mon, he’s this way.”

“He? Who’s he?”

“Dunno, I found him in the woods.”

“Aw, Steve, you can’t just take in any ol’ stray dog you happen to find out in the wood—-” Robin cuts herself off as they get to the bedroom door. “Ohhkay…so..not a dog.”

“He looks to be dehydrated, but I don’t think he has any injuries.” Mama says in lieu of a greeting when they return. Steve sits down on the opposite edge of the bed that she is, and carefully passes over the bowl of water without looking at her.

The stranger immediately takes in his attention. His soft features, dark brows…Steve starts to pull the bits of brush out of the man’s hair, untangling twigs, leaves, and he can already see one of those pesky prickle things twisted into the hair next to his ear.

Mama sets the bowl on the sidetable, and gets to work immediately, wiping the dirt and grime from the man’s face and arms. “Robin dear, can you grab one of those sports drinks Pa loves so much outta the fridge? And a bottle of water.”

“Of course!” she says, darting back into the kitchen.

“We’ll need to get some food in him too,”

“We should make him scones.” Steve states apropos of nothing. “With chocolate chunks.”

“Maybe after he’s a bit better, sweetie.” Mama scoffs, wringing out the washcloth. “He needs healthy fats first, butter, oatmeal, avocado, things like that.”

“I can do that!” Steve says, jumping up excitedly. His former task forgotten, he rushes out of the bedroom and to the kitchen, nearly bowling Robin over in the process.

He gets to work on simple eggs and toast for their houseguest, avoiding Mama’s lucky bread in favor of his own store-bought stuff for now, he can make him his own later.

As he scrambles the eggs, he focuses everything in him on the stranger, on getting him better, making him healthy again. He’s not exactly quite sure how to do what Mama does, but the sour cookie dough says he’ll do it without thinking about it…kinda.

Whatever.

All he knows is that he’s telling the fuck outta these eggs to make his love better. Make him whole again.. Make him—

Wait..

Did he just refer to the random man laid up in the other room as his love?

Is…

The fugue state he’d been in since first laying eyes on the man crackles away just long enough for him to think.

What did he say before he collapsed? "I've come home to you."?

That..sounds right....why is that so famili—

Steve's eyes leave the pan of eggs in front of him and snap immediately to the scrap of paper he'd scrambled for a few nights ago.

Is he…?

And of course, as if the words weren't already plastered permanently onto his grey matter, there they are, plain as day.

tagging those that were interested on the last part!!! @mugloversonly @kittydeadbones @maybequizas @queenie-ofthe-void @newtstabber @angeldreamsoffanfic @eyesofshinigami @sunflower-trashbaby @perseus-notjackson @kaspurrcat @quinns-shadowy-arts

also, idk if this counts for it, but one of february's songs for @steddiesongfics is work song! which is what this fic is based on! 😊😊

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #robin buckley #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve has good grandparents #steveddie #eddeve #witch au #noelle writes

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blackleatherjacketz · 6 months ago

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Shadow and Sin: Chapter 9

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Klaus pleads his case as you wrestle with guilt, while Elijah attempts to ease your mind the old fashioned way.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Love Triangle, Infidelity, Klaus Pinning You Against the Wall, Shoving, Neck Kissing, Licking, Elijah Undressing You, Kissing, Massage, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Lying, Manipulation, Compulsion, Blood, Sweat, Tears, ANGST

Word Count: 3.2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

His brother? Elijah? Did you really just hear him correctly? No. No, that can’t possibly be true. They look nothing alike! And can vampires even BE brothers, especially if Klaus is over a thousand years old, like he said? Maybe it’s just some weird figure of speech and not an actual term. Or maybe it’s just part of the vampire lore that only the elder insiders know about? You can’t…no… this can’t be happening! Either way, you can’t deny that you’re in deep trouble here. It’s only a matter of time before you get found out, and you can’t imagine that either of them will take it very well.

Time to put that guard up.

“Well, half brother, if you want to get into the specifics, but that’s a story for another time, love.” Klaus’ blonde lashes flutter across your cheek as he kisses the skin of your chin and jawline while you tremble with guilt. He doesn’t seem to be worried about the idea of Elijah right now, so you welcome his continued seduction with a sigh of relief as it helps throw him off the scent. You force a smile as he slowly releases the vice-like grip he has on your wrists only to ghost his hands down your forearms, forcing you to shiver.

“Oh, really?” you whisper as your bloodstream plays host to an increased supply of oxytocin, chemically connecting your body to his no matter how badly your brain wants them to separate. “So do you have, like a whole family of vampire siblings living under one roof?” You jest, only to be met by his thumbs playfully digging into your axilla before squeezing their way down your sides.

“Maybe I do, but it looks like we both have surprise siblings that neither of us knew about until today. It really begs the question though, are there any other secrets that you’re hiding from me, hmm? A husband, a wife, a child?” His mouth moves down to your neck as you shake your head in response, licking the path of your pulse as it continues to throb against his tongue.

“Klaus,” you groan, trying to focus solely on the mental image of your brother instead of Elijah rocking his hips into you, those gorgeously lust-blown eyes of his nearly blacking out completely. That’s something you could never forget, but you shove it into the back of your mind for the time being, anyways. “Klaus, we can’t do this, I’m at work!”

“Oh don’t worry, love. I’ve compelled everyone on this floor to forget that I came here tonight, to forget that you ever left your post.” He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye with a reassuring wink.

“Compelled?” You push your palm against his chest to put some distance between you, secretly hating yourself for cutting off that rush of hormones that set your skin on fire. “What do you mean, compelled?” You need more of an explanation than just the context clues he’s barely giving you.

“Well, if you must know, it’s one of the many gifts that comes with immortality; a sure fire way to get others to do what we want, to cover our tracks.” His hands rest gently against your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin beneath your scrubs as he explains himself.

“Like mind control?” You had dated some seriously manipulative men in your day, but this really takes the cake. If he can really do that, can they all do it? Can Elijah?

“Think of it more as… the power of persuasion. I could compel your boss to give you a raise right now, Marjorie to give back your favorite pen that she stole, or your patients to stay in bed. But instead I chose to compel every last one of my men to protect you, to keep you safe from any harm that may come your way. You won’t have to worry about any more attacks in the quarter, love, you or your brother.”

Damn. Well, that’s a relief, you guess.

“Wait, have you ever compelled me before?” Your logic finally kicks back in, trying it’s best not to get led astray by his silver tongue and good looks, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

He pauses and takes a breath, smirking while he chooses his next words very carefully. “The thing I love most about you is that I’ve never felt the need to compel you before.” He weaves his web of words with such eloquent precision, it’s almost impossible to tell if there’s any bit of truth in them. “I’ve compelled people in the past to lie, cheat and steal for me, even to kill for me if the occasion calls for it, but in the end it’s just not as fun as earning their loyalty the old fashioned way.

“Compelling you to act any differently, to be anybody else would just be too boring, and you’re anything but boring, love. You find death just as beautiful and vibrant as I do. It’s apparent in your art and your choice to work here as your patients tiptoe that flimsy tightrope between life and death. You get off on the power you hold over it, the power you have to stop it, to prolong it. In the end, you and I aren’t that different after all.” He strokes your hair affectionately, looking longingly into your eyes as he waits for you to respond.

“You think so?” You reply dumbly as if you’re blown away by his words, trying to really sell the idea of being on board with his ethics of compelling people against their will.

“I left you a note at the nurse’s station next to a cup of chicory coffee from your favorite cafe. Meet me at that address tomorrow night, then we can really begin to flesh out our epic masterpiece… but only if you want to.”

————————

Klaus’ words haunt you well into your much needed shower after work as you try to wash his scent out of your hair and off of your skin. You scrub the wash cloth over your body more times than you care to admit, letting the soap lather up to a ridiculous level before rinsing off in the steaming stream of water. Once you finally reach the level of cleanliness that you desire, you step out of the shower and dry your hair, switching the towel around before wrapping it around your body.

You rotate your scrubs over from the washer to the dryer, making sure to eradicate any of Klaus’ scent from them as well, hoping that Elijah won’t catch on to your surprise visitor at work. You’re sure that he would take the news better than Klaus would, but there’s no telling how merciful a ruthless vampire like him could react when he’s betrayed, no matter how refined he seems so far.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Elijah’s voice is just above a whisper as he enters your apartment through the balcony, your purple curtains surrounding him in the breeze of dawn, staging him to look like your beloved phantom. His suit is littered with streaks of crimson, the truth about his nature staring you right in the face as he slowly takes a step toward you with an outstretched hand.

Perfect timing, as always.

“I just had a really rough day at work.” You mutter, letting your hand instinctively slip inside his fingers as he draws you near. You aren’t necessarily lying to him, but you can’t bear to tell him the whole truth yet either. “That’s all.”

Had he been with Klaus earlier tonight? Had they killed someone together? Compelled them to stay calm, not to scream or run away before they drank their blood until there was nothing left? Had they done it so many times in their endless lives together that they don’t even register it as something bad anymore? How could someone so calm and considerate like Elijah be related to someone so fiercely aggressive as Klaus? Even worse, how could someone like you who claims to be such a good person be attracted to both of them despite it all?

The reality of your situation slowly begins to set in now that you’re free of Klaus’ pheromones, the brutal truth of what you have to do now more obvious than ever. You have to leave. It’s the only logical course of action. If you stay and choose Klaus, you’ll have to deal with seeing Elijah every day, and you’ll be heartbroken as you keep that secret between you… if he’s even kind enough to keep it. If you stay and choose Elijah, you can only imagine what maniacally violent punishment Klaus might dole out to you in retaliation… and to his brother. And if you stay and choose neither of them, well… the odds just aren’t really in your favor, are they?

Damn your libido!

“Are you alright?” Elijah asks softly, placing a single chaste kiss on the nape of your neck as his other hand holds onto your waist, calming your nerves somehow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I umm…” You try to disguise the weight of your dilemma as best you can, all while telling him something along the lines of the truth. “This patient of mine, she doesn’t know how much time she has left. She thought it was just a simple stomach ache, maybe a food allergy or a survivable chronic illness like Crohn’s, but now they’re testing her for something more serious, for something fatal.”

“I’m so sorry.” His free hand undoes the loose knot of your towel, setting your naked body free as he sends the terry cloth falling silently to the floor. “She must be terrified.”

“She is,” you admit, relishing in the comfort of his touch as he navigates his palms over your breasts and belly as if they’re precious jewels to be treasured. “But the choices she’s made up until now can’t be taken back, can’t be erased no matter how hard she wishes they could be.”

Elijah’s lips part as he takes you in, his features softening before shrugging out of his jacket and tie. “Even those of us who live forever wish we could turn back time, that we could take back certain decisions.” He sets his clothes on the back of a chair and unbuttons his collar. “Your job has to be filled with people who are shrouded in regret.”

“It is.” You help him unbutton the rest of his shirt, recognizing that this may be the very last time he holds you in his arms before the truth comes out, before it’s all over. That bittersweet realization fills your eyes with tears that aren’t quite heavy enough to fall onto your cheeks as you look down at his navel before pulling his perfectly pressed shirt off his torso.

Good God, you’re going to miss this. You’re going to miss him.

Elijah takes your hand as his shirt falls to the floor next to your towel and guides you over to the couch, setting you in between his legs with his chest against your back. “And what are your patient’s options? What can she do?” He kisses his questions between your shoulder blades as his fingers massage your aching muscles, releasing the tension in your body the way that only he can. You swear that one of his immortal gifts is the strength in his magical fingers, and you can already imagine how many tears you’ll cry the next few nights in your bed without them. But for now, you’ve got to put on a brave face.

“She could make a drastic life change that might give her a sliver of a chance at survival.” You blink your tears into your lashes before closing your eyes as he continues to knead his thumbs against your skin, replacing your sorrow with a deep somatic pleasure. “But she wonders if it’s too late, if she’s in too deep to even make any kind of a difference.”

“That sounds very bleak, little Lotte.” He rubs his hands over your shoulders and up the back of your neck, collecting your hair at the top of your head to better massage your scalp as you languidly drop your chin to your chest. He grins as your rapid breathing eventually slows to a cool, measured rhythm with each pass of his fingers, the pressure slowly increasing before his hands finally venture down toward the peaks and valleys of your chest.

“I know, I feel terrible.” You mumble as he pinches your nipples, twisting them hard enough for your muscles to tighten back up, ruining all the work that he’d just done to get you relaxed. You lean back against him with a needy moan, your head resting on his shoulder as you feel his heart beating faster, his own arousal grows against the expensive fabric of his pants.

“Why don’t you let me take your mind off of it for a while?” His hand travels down your stomach as he whispers into your ear, sending tingling waves of warmth up your spine as it wastes no time in settling in between your thighs. He kisses your lips with a smile as he feels your body writhe against his, urging him to continue as his fingers take the hint and eagerly glide in between your dripping wet folds, building those waves even taller than before.

“Mmm hmm,” you moan your stuttered approval, suspending your fear for one more night as you practically fall limp in his arms. “I think I’ll let you do that.”

————————

You wake the next morning without him next to you, without his arms to wrap around you with a sleepy groan that you’ve almost gotten used to, without his chin nuzzling into the nape of your neck, pleading for five more minutes in bed with you. Those five minutes almost always turned into ten more of him thrusting inside you, working each and every muscle awake the old fashioned way as sweat dripped down his chest and melted between your thighs and his hips. But not today.

Today starts with you reluctantly opening your eyes, reaching over to the empty spot on your bed that he’d recently filled as his smoky scent lingers on your sheets and pillowcase. You inhale his aroma one last time before forcing yourself upright, greeted at least by a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen and a note next to it saying that he has business to tend to today. You pick it up and sigh with a sad smile, wishing you were awake enough to watch him walk out your door one last time, but decide that it’s all for the best, and get dressed for the day with a heavy heart.

After waiting a few painstaking hours in a cafe down the street for your phone to finally get fixed, you decide to drop by your brother’s place to see how he’s doing, holding your breath in anticipation as you wait for him to open the door after you knock three times.

“Hey loser, what’s up?” Austin seems rather surprised to see you, his expression more tired and worn than usual.

“Oh, thank God!” You wrap your arms around your brother as if your memory of being concerned for his life suddenly returns just by seeing his face. That’s funny, you don’t remember being worried about what happened to him after the night of the attack, but that doesn’t really make any sense, now does it? “I’m so glad you’re okay! I didn’t know what happened to you after…”

“Of course I’m okay, and what are you talking about?” He looks you up and down like you’ve lost your mind, like you have lobsters crawling out of your ears. “And you usually call first before you come over, are you sure everything’s alright?”

“No!” You pause, studying his features to see if he’s attempting to play some kind of prank on you or something. How could he not remember? “My phone got shattered the other night, remember? I just got it fixed.” You barge into his apartment like you own the place, shocked that he even has to ask you about it. Was he feeling alright? Were you?

He continues to stare at you as you wander aimlessly around his living area, completely bewildered.

“You mean to tell me that yours is fine? That your phone survived the attack without even a crack, a dent, nothing?! They roughed both of us up pretty bad that night, I can’t believe you don’t even have a scratch on you.”

“Doing what? And you should talk, you don’t have any marks on you, either, sis.” He seems genuinely confused as he hurriedly shuts the door behind you and locks it behind you. “Look, is everything alright? Did you hit your head or something? Are you talking about the night that we had dinner together? When you ran into your buddy Elijah and I had to walk the rest of the way home by myself?”

“Yes!” You nod, folding your arms across your chest. Now you’re getting somewhere.

He rolls his eyes. “You were supposed to be my designated walker that night, by the way.” He walks over to the couch and plops down with a loud, disappointed sigh, a sound you know all too well. “Thanks for nothing, I guess. I hope you at least got laid, or some free drinks. That guy reeks of money.”

Holy shit, Elijah compelled him to forget everything about the attack that night. It really does work. Fuck, you’re in trouble!

You sit down on the couch next to your brother, looking him deep in the eye. “You really don’t remember anything else about that night, do you?”

“No.” He sits up straight and looks at you solemnly, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Sis, what the fuck is going on? You’re scaring me.”

You consider telling him the truth about everything you’ve been through these past few weeks, about Elijah and Klaus, about vampires and witches, but all the sudden you see the benefit of compulsion. You see that wiping someone’s memory of an event or a person isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. It can keep your brother safe and in the dark while the creatures of the night lurk around the corners of the city feasting on the innocent while he remains none the wiser. Maybe it’s better if you leave him like this, to continue on believing only in the things that he can explain with laws and logic.

“Maybe it was just a bad dream.” You whisper softly, looking down at your feet before glancing back up at him. “Sometimes they just seem so real, you know?” You bite your lower lip as a mixture of guilt and futility washes over you, almost triggering those tears to come back with a vengeance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” You take a deep breath and ruffle his hair before standing up from the couch, realizing that you’re on your own with this from here on out. It’s probably better to keep him out of the mess you’ve created for yourself. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright, but… don’t be a stranger, okay? And if you need anything, anything real, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I promise.” You hug him before seeing yourself out, walking down the street toward the bus station before everything goes black.

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Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel @spnaquakindgdom @natalie668 @arbesa-mind

#klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson smut #nikalus mikaelson #joseph morgan #daniel gillies

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ephie-om · 13 days ago

Text

I love this stupid wizard

Day 9: Solomon

You know one of Solomon’s favorite things is when an opportunity presents itself to show off to you. A flourish of his hands, colorful sparks of magical energy, and your problem has been solved. He never passes up a chance to call you his adorable apprentice when you go to him for help, either. You find yourself relying on him maybe a bit more than you should, but he certainly doesn’t mind. You aren’t exactly helpless when he’s not around, no matter what some of your demons might think. You remind them on occasion that you do have a pact with the Avatar of Sloth, so there’s very little reason for you to go looking for solutions that require more effort.

You stretch out on the couch of Purgatory Hall’s common room. Solomon had instructed you to wait here for him as he went to fetch you “a surprise” from his lab, but that was about half an hour ago by this point. Resigned to the fact that he may have forgotten about you, you decide to make yourself a snack.

The angels keep the kitchen well-stocked with all manner of treats. You peruse your options slowly, deciding if you want something savory or sweet. You open one of the cabinet doors, failing to realize it was barely hanging on. The top hinge gives way with a screech, screws tearing from the wood. You jump back, startled. On inspection, the hinge looks to have been blasted with something magical, probably a result of another of Solomon’s experiments.

The snack long forgotten, you start to search for tools to fix the door. You remember seeing a screwdriver shoved in a drawer somewhere in the kitchen, so you root around until you find the junk drawer. No screwdriver to be found, but your search does yield an extra hinge still in the dusty plastic bag. The screw holes in the cabinet seem to be fine, but the screws are definitely stripped, so you continue your hunt.

You finally scrounge up a screwdriver and a couple of appropriately sized screws from a box mysteriously stashed under the couch, but you decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tools secured, you head back to the kitchen to take a look at the door.

Unfortunately the only stepstool in the house seems to be the one that Luke uses to reach the lower cabinets, and you want to preserve a little bit of dignity, so you climb onto the kitchen counter instead. Screws in your mouth, you start aligning the holes in the hinge with the ones on the cabinet, when a voice echoes from behind you.

“What are you doing?”

You turn your head as much as you can without falling off to see Solomon standing behind you, utterly shocked. “One second,” you mumble through the screws, and fit them loosely into place. “This hinge fell off, so I fixed it.”

Solomon’s eyebrows furrow. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“...because you’ve been gone for ages and this takes me ten minutes?”

He pouts for a moment, but it vanishes just as quickly when his natural curiosity takes over. “Where did you even find all that?”

“Oh, you know,” you motion vaguely with your free hand, “around.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you wonder if he’s wandered off again. You finish tightening the screws as best you can by hand and hop down from the counter, satisfied with your work. You turn to see Solomon still standing there with utter adoration in his eyes. “You’re incredible,” he breathes.

“Solomon, I replaced a hinge and tightened two screws.”

“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily. “You didn’t even use a spell to hold them in place for you. You just did it yourself.”

You facepalm internally. “You know that’s how we have to do it in the human world, right?”

“But you’re in the Devildom, with the most powerful sorcerer in all the three realms down the hall. And you just decide to do it by hand anyways.”

“Solomon, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It is a big deal. Do you know how many people would take advantage of your situation? I’ve had people come to me asking for help with a hole in their sock. I even have Asmo, one of the most powerful demons alive, ask me to vanish a pimple because he didn’t want to walk over to the bathroom to get a serum. You’re so determined to hold onto your humanity that you’ll still do things like this as my apprentice.”

You can’t help but laugh softly at him. “Solomon, I don’t need to hold onto my humanity. I do human things because I’m a human. And… sometimes humans have enough pride to not go running to a sorcerer for everything.” He cocks his head at you, confused.

“I know you love fixing things for me. You do it all the time. Remember the time I tripped outside of RAD and you came running to heal the wound?” He smiles at the memory. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate the help, but sometimes I have to do things for myself. Ever since I got here, I’ve learned there’s a magic spell for every little thing I’ve thought about, and some that I haven’t. It’s embarrassing, but I need things like this to prove that I can still do something without magic. I’ve been worried I forgot how to live without it.”

His eyes soften, taking in the blush on your face from admitting something like this. “I understand. I can’t say I ever felt like that, but that’s because magic was an escape for me. I didn’t realize it could make you feel like that.” He stands for a moment worrying his bottom lip in thought and you watch him pensively. Suddenly, his face lights up.

“I know! One of the demons I have a pact with is having trouble with their water heater, and it’s something that’ll take me hours with magic. Do you think you could fix it?”

You laugh at him, all sparkling eyes. “I can try. I don’t know if I’ll have the right tools though.”

He slips his arm around your waist as you walk towards the door. “That’s nothing I can’t fix for my adorable apprentice.”

#obey me #obey me swd #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me fluff #obey me solomon #om solomon #obey me solomon x reader #ephie writes #omadventcalendar

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elysianightsss · 8 months ago

Text

Limerence | Seven

C H A P T E R S E V E N

limerence / lim-ê-rêns / (noun)

“Obsessive romantic attraction towards another person”

Summary: In which the owners of Jujutsu Incorporated, the Ôgami brothers, are suddenly interested in you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x reader, Alpha!Itadori x reader, Alpha!Gojo x reader, Alpha!Geto x reader, Alpha!Nanami x reader, Alpha!Kenjaku x reader

Status: Ongoing.

Genre: werewolf au, soulmate, polyamory relationship, angst, fluff, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics.

Warnings: smut, violence, mentions of knotting, heats, ruts, insecurities, some descriptions of reader’s body, mention of possible ED, omegaspace, domdrop, swearing, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, Alpha tendencies.

Chapter Warnings: nudity, panic attack, talks about scar, negative thoughts, first heat, smuttyness, scent talk. Writing this late so let me know if there is more I need to tag.

Masterlist | Chapter Six | Chapter Eight

Taglist: @better-imagination-9 @tiredjuniper @jjkz @honeybeeboobaa @cherryblossomdelusion @dependsonthedream @alluresenses @qardasngan @imcamboaf @ondragonhonour @misscaller06 @itsberrydreemurstuff @queen-luna-007 @thepeachesclub @xxemmarldxx @elleflying07 @heartless-tate @victoria1676 @dremerys @openup-yourmind @catobsessedlady @topmeyelena @your-favourite-god @neptunieesworld @canary58143

Taglist is open.

————————————————————————

Previously on Limerence:

“She has anxiety?” Yuji asked more to himself.

“Don’t we all?” Suguru joked making his brother give him a ‘shut the fuck up’ look. He raised his hands up in a show of surrender, smirk still on his face.

“I just mean, I didn’t know she had it to the extent of having to take meds for it.” Yuji explained his thoughts glancing down at you.

“Neither did I. None of us do. I guess I realised that when I was at her place too. None of us know her yet, we don’t know anything about her, her life, her family. None of it. We’ve known her for a day, not even a full day either.” Suguru sighed, he couldn’t wait to learn more about you.

“We will soon. I’m excited for the days I know all there is to know. I will feel like I’m complete as her mate.” Yuji laughed with joy on his face only for Suguru to wipe it away.

“Something tells me there will always be something new to learn with our gorgeous mate.”

Kento had talked it out with Sukuna and Satoru, both brothers had made sure that Kento was in the correct headspace before coming to find you. He found you wiping the sleep from your eyes fighting to stay awake while Yuji ran his fingers through your hair gently.

“Why don’t we get you a fresh set of clothes, get you out of those ripped ones hmm?” Suguru offered and smiled like a lovesick puppy when you nodded sleepily, he patted Kento on the back as he left to grab you some clothes.

“Sweetheart?” Kento’s hands had began to shake, he knew that even if it wasn’t all his fault, it was partly his doing. How stupid he was to have let Jade stay in that room. He should have ushered her out before taking the call. He shouldn’t have been so trusting with a stranger around his mate, what a fool he was.

You looked up at Kento and felt conflicted. You yourself understood he wasn’t at fault, yet your dormant omega who had suddenly become alive, she was apprehensive. She felt betrayed in some way that had you feeling waves of the same feeling even if you didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he says, almost like he doesn’t know what else to say, or maybe he knows it doesn’t matter what he says, you won’t forgive that easily. That’s why your omega relaxes slightly, she can clearly see the promise to make it up to you, to grovel and graft sparkling in his eyes.

You just nod, but it’s all your omega is allowing you to do. Thankfully Suguru has perfect timing as he comes back into the room with a small pile of clothing for you. With a sweet smile he holds them out to you, offering him a smile of your own you take the pile from his hands. Slipping off of Yuji’s lap, he inhales sharply making you turn around with a frown, then you hear the same thing from the two other men in the room.

“What?” You frown turning back to your other two mates.

“Angel h-how…” you turn back to the pink haired man, his eyes brimming with tears.

“What?” You blink confused, then you feel it. A slight breeze blowing over your bare back, tickling the damaged skin and suddenly your lungs feel like sandpaper as your breathe in and out, suddenly Yuji’s proximity as he stands suffocates you. Something burning starts to unfurl in your stomach like you’d be retching soon, a coil tightening, curling and swirling until a shiver of terror racks its way through your body and your running.

Pushing past Kento who tries to catch you but your faster, slipping out of what little grip he had on you and running right into a confused looking Sukuna, bumping his shoulder and once again pushing. You needed to get away, needed to breathe. All you knew was that you were drowning and the longer you went without air, the further down you were being pulled. Your eyes began to blacken at the edges just as you reached what you hoped was the front door and as if God was on your side for once, it was.

The sky was pitch black, the only light coming from the street lamps. A golden hue shining over you as you descended deeper into your frazzled state of anxiety. Then as though the sky cracked open with a noise only rivalled by a sonic boom, Kento roared. It was automatic the way your feet stopped,

Even through your fuzzy brain and lightheadedness you still managed to hear the growled command, “Omega. Breathe.” You did. You took in deep breath, after deep breath until you were almost hyperventilating, almost exactly the same as you did this morning when you met them. Fuck it hadn’t even been a full day of knowing them and already you’d had what? Two? Three? Mental break downs.

“Omega.” Sukuna rushes to you, falling on his knees too. His arms surrounding your figure, pulling away quickly when you hiss and cry out as his skin meets yours where your shirt had been ripped at the back.

“Kuna.” Oh. His eyes are glued to you, fuck he hadn’t heard anyone call him that ever. He wishes it wasn’t laced with the sadness and pain clear as day in your voice. He wishes to hear it only in your happiest times.

“I’m here pup, just breathe omega. My beautiful omega, breathe for me,” you nod doing your best to take the breaths he’s asking you to, “that’s it, good girl. Good girl keep doing that, in and out slowly like me. Watch me.” He says cupping your cheek with his hand and turning your head until your eyes are on him, and as he asks you watch him, slowly falling into a steady rhythm of copying him. Air fills your lungs the way it desperately needs.

You allow Sukuna to coax you back inside and into the living room, it seems like everything is moving in slow motion as he leads you to sit on the sofa, kneeling in front of you. He frowns, face pinched with pain as he watches the tears fall down your cheeks, “Please pup, tell Alpha what he can do to make it better.”

You shake your head, “You can’t fix this, you can’t fix me. I can’t be fixed. I’ve tried, I’m still trying. Nothing works.” You say so strong and a matter of fact that Sukuna feels like he’s being challenged, he hears his wolf whine for the first time in its entire existence, “If you knew…” you start only to sigh and bury your face in your hands.

Sukuna goes to push for an answer when a hand places itself on his shoulder, he looks up to find Kenjaku staring down at him shaking his head. No room for arguments, Sukuna moves away from you so Kenjaku can pick you up. You squeal and after a slight panic you realise it’s just Kenny. With a small huff you ask to be put down to which he simply responds “No.”

Kenjaku carries you through the blue hallway, up the stairs and third door on the right. It’s, dark and a little cold, you feel yourself being placed on a cold surface then a flick of a switch and the white light fills the space around you. A modern style bathroom that you guess would look big if the enormous gorgeous beast wasn’t stood in it.

You take notice of the black marble countertop you’ve been placed on, it contrasts perfectly with the white tiled walls, and the white sink, next to which is the pile of clothes Suguru had given you earlier. How long had Kenjaku been back and how the hell did he manage to refold and place the clothes in a neat heap on the side?

“Arms up.” His voice is the softest it’s ever been, he hopes his face isn’t too harsh either as he watches you carefully. You go to say no, your mind begs you to only to be shushed by your omega with a softly whispered, alpha’s talking.

You hold your arms up in the air and the way the corner of his lip twitches up makes your chest swell with happiness, he looks proud of you and that has you almost preening under his gaze. He moves forward slowly, rough fingers grazing the soft skin of your hips as he grabs the hem of your ruined top and pulls it off of you dropping it on the floor.

He goes in again hooking his fingers in the sides of your trousers, “Lift.” He orders and you do, putting your body weight on the strength of your arms to push your bum off the counter enough for Kenjaku to pull your trousers down. He drops those on the floor too before grabbing the trousers in the pile and slipping them on.

He grabs the sweater, brown sharp eyes that are desperately trying to be softer, glare at your bra in offense. Before you can even protest Kenjaku is pinging the clasp of your bra open, he doesn’t even bother to look away respectfully as your breast spill out. He simply pulls away the bra, dropping it on the pile on the floor and pulls the tops onto your head, helping you put your arms in the correct holes.

You’re once again fully clothed, covered from the shoulders down in soft comforting cotton. Though your cheeks are warmer, your body feels a little achy and you have this throbbing feeling in your lower abdomen.

“Better?” He tilts his head waiting for an answer, the sight makes you crack a smile and nod.

“Thanks Kenny.” You see him freeze, a wrinkle in time, a pause in his world but not in yours. What he does next surprises you, his arms wrap around your body as he begins to nudge your legs apart so he can step in between them and hold you tightly. His thin lips drag over the skin on your forehead, leaving the sweetest of kisses there.

“You’re welcome princess.” His deep voice, the way his sturdy body was pressed against yours, how held you tender yet tight. And his scent, fuck, his scent the sweetest cinnamon hot chocolate and something musky like a manly cologne sprayed on himself to minimise the sweetness of his scent.

You realise that all of your mates have sweet bakery scents, sweet treats or drinks. Each of them attractive to you, each smelling like something you’d get from the bakery across the road from Jujutsu Kaisen Headquarters. It simply makes you bury your face further into his neck and inhale deeper.

Your nose pressed up against his scent gland was something else entirely, you breathed in deeply and unconsciously rolled your hips against the marble counter top. You’d not noticed too busy getting high on your vicious mate’s sweet smell but Kenjaku…oh he’d noticed. He reckons he could sniff out your arousal from down the street with how strong it was. His brothers would definitely notice too if that thought was anything to go by.

“Princess?” Kenjaku was unsure what to do to in this situation, to his knowledge you hadn’t had a heat ever. Was this one coming on or were you just horny? He couldn’t make heads or tails of it but what he did know was that you were clinging onto to him tighter, breathing heavily while your hips hesitantly rolled stuttering slightly each time.

“Yes Kenny?” You sounded so innocent like you genuinely didn’t know what you were doing. It had him closing his eyes tightly to get himself to calm down before he spoke.

“Are you okay?” Not wanting to scare you off by pointing out your unconscious actions, he’d let you lead this conversation. If you chose not to say anything about it, he would happily stay like this until you were ready to pull away.

“I’m not sure. I’m really hot all of a sudden.” And it was all of a sudden, like a flick of a switch, a wave of painful heat shot through your body lingering the most in your lower stomach where you’d get your period cramps. If felt similar to that but hot and more painful. It had you hunching over, hands scrambling to grab onto anything that would anchor you as the pain pulsed through your body, wave after wave.

“Omega?” He questioned, bending with you only to be hit with a strong surge of your phenomenons, they were pungent and smelled so fucking good. The way your body pushed them out more and more with each wave of pain you experienced, you were calling for an Alpha to aid you, help you.

“Alpha.” You gasped sharply, throwing your head back with a pleasure expression when Kenjaku’s hand gripped your thigh, his touch sent sparks all over you. Tingles of exquisite pleasure coming from the simple pressure of his fingertips on your leg.

“Ken.” Kenjaku was quick to snap his head towards his brother who stood in the doorway, his blonde hair messy and his clothes ruffled. He looked as disgruntled as earlier in the day right after the Jade incident occurred. He looked his way expecting an answer of what was happening to you.

“I think she’s going into her first heat.” Kento’s eyes widened with shock at his black haired brother’s words.

“But that’s..” he wanted to say impossible but would it be? You were finally surrounded by all your mates, you’d had an extremely stressful day which had pushed your once dormant omega out of hiding. It was entirely possible that your first heat, long overdue, would come now.

You moaned arching your back when Kenjaku’s hand had slid up your thigh even higher, his pinky brushing against the front of your clothed cunt. His eyes raking over your figure, he couldn’t help the groan that slipped out when he noticed the wet patch that had began to grow there. You were slicking up ready to be knotted.

“Fuck what do we do?” Kenjaku asks not taking his eyes off of you as you began to breathe raggedly and buck your hips in search of the friction you needed.

“She’s going to need us.” Sukuna’s voice had joined the conversation, making his presence known.

“She’s not…she won’t be ready for that mentally or emotionally even if she is physically.” Kento said shaking his head. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. You were supposed to get to know them and them know you. You were supposed to exchange ‘I love you’s’ first. Have the ultimate trust in them first.

Not even a day and your body was already in tune with them and your omega had slotted herself back into your life, coming back just as easily as she had left it.

“Kuna.” You whimpered, a sheer contrast to how you’d cried it earlier voice so full of sadness. Now it was needy and wanting, filled with desperation.

“Yeah baby I’m here, what’d you need bunny?” He pushes past Kento to come to your aid, his usual teasing expression completely gone and replaced with pure seriousness.

“We should move her to a bed, get her comfortable for what’s coming.” Kento suggested, talking lowly to Kenjaku as you reached forward clinging to Sukuna grabbing at his hand roughly to bring it to your aching pussy.

“Omega, be patient.” He intoned you, the first time you’d ever experienced it. The automatic response to do exactly as you’d just been told was maddening.

“Which room?” Sukuna asked his brothers.

“What’s going on?” Satoru had come seeking out you and the glorious smell that had began to fill the house. His white hair all tussled in a stressful way just like Kento’s.

“Sweetheart which room do you want to be in?” Kento asked you watching your face carefully.

“Kenny’s.” You whined despite how tightly you clung to Sukuna. Almost as if an order had been given Sukuna wrapped his arms around your body and began marching through the hallway and straight into Kenjaku’s room. He placed you on the big dark blue covered bed gently, leaning back and watching the way your back arched off the bed. He had to try his hardest to resist when you made grabby hands in his direction.

All six Alphas in one room now, all watching as you writhed in a waves of pain and begged for pleasure to be given to you. Only one question needed to be asked.

“What do we do?”

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callsignseagull · 1 year ago

Text

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 9

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: a little bit of angst, me not knowing how the navy works so just assume it works like that lol, SMUT 18+ [unprotected sex, oral f receiving, a little breeding kink maybe?, dirty talk, praising, cumplay, the whole thing is pretty filthy considering this series has been quite tame so far lol]

A/N: Here’s part nine!! the final part before the epilogue!!!! enjoy

feedback is always appreciated <3

series masterlist || masterlist

You use every opportunity to distract yourself from the fact that Jake is gone and you don’t know when he’ll be back. If he’ll be back. You really try your best not to think too negatively, but you can’t help worrying. You just hope it gets better with time, because you know for a fact that you’re going to be with Jake when he comes back. If he comes back.

You shake your head to get rid of these thoughts. You have to stay positive, if not for you then for Josie. She’s the ray of hope in your dark thoughts. She doesn’t even consider the fact that Jake might not come back. You know it’s because she doesn’t know the severity of this mission and the dangers of his job in general. But it still cheers you up.

Thankfully, your week is packed full with promo for your new book. You’ve got several signings and interviews, and you thank whoever is responsibly because it couldn’t have come at a better time. Josie spends a lot of time at Penny’s while you’re working. Penny is restless as well. With your whirlwind of emotions around Jake’s return you completely missed that Penny rekindled an old romance as well. And now you’re both praying that they’ll get back from their mission unscathed.

You’re in LA for the day, being interviewed and doing a signing in a small bookstore. Just like the days before, you’re thankful for the distraction. But it’s also exhausting. You’re not used to this much human interaction, and as much as you love seeing your little readers’ smiling faces and listening to parents tell you how much they love your books, you feel like your own smile is stuck on your face. Your cheeks are hurting. And it’s draining to pretend to be carefree.

When you finally leave at the end of the day you can’t wait to pick up Josie and go home. You honestly just want to sleep. This was your last commitment for a while and you’re already thinking about just spending a week doing nothing except play with Josie. You need to recharge your batteries.

Back in San Diego, Josie seems equally as excited to see you.

“Thank you so much for looking after her and Muffin,” you give Penny a hug.

“Don’t worry about it.” Penny waves her hand dismissively. “I love spending time with these two. And I know both of us could use the distraction.” She gives you a lopsided smile.

You nod your head. “Yeah I guess so. It’s just hard not knowing anything.”

“They’ll come back.” Penny sounds certain, but you know she’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s trying to reassure you.

You feel yourself tearing up, so you just nod again. “You have fun on your sailing trip okay?” Penny and Amelia decided to go on a spontaneous sailing trip first thing tomorrow morning. You know it’s another distraction for Penny, but you don’t mention it.

“We will! And you get some rest, okay?” She gives you that concerned mom look and you have to roll your eyes.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice.” You laugh. “I’ll probably go to bed right after tucking Josie to sleep.”

Penny laughs, then you call for Josie and head out after saying goodbye to Penny.

Dinner consists of Josie’s favourite take-out, you’re too tired to cook anything and you live for the smile on Josie’s face.

“This is my most favourite!” Josie exclaims and throws the rest of her chicken nugget into her mouth.

You chuckle, “I know, honey.”

“We need to go there again when Daddy comes back.” She says it so matter of fact it makes you smile sadly.

“We will.” You pat her hand gently. “I’m sure he’ll love it just as much.”

“More than me?” She looks at you with wide eyes.

“Now, that’s impossible. He doesn’t love anything more than you.” You run the back of your hand over her cheek and she smiles.

“Not even you?” It makes you stop for a second. You’re pretty certain he was about to tell you he loves you before he left, but maybe he wanted to say something completely unrelated? You’ve been mulling it over for days, and the more time passes the more you doubt that that’s what he wanted to say. But there’s still a small glimmer of hope somewhere inside you.

You don’t exactly know what to say, so you settle on, “Not even me.”

Once you’ve tucked Josie into bed you change into more comfortable clothes and curl up on the sofa. You don’t think you can pay attention to anything on TV but you turn it on anyway, even if it’s just a background noise to your spinning thoughts.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

It’s after Josie’s bedtime when Jake uses the key you gave him for the first time. He could’ve rung the bell, the lights in the living room are still on, but he wanted to surprise you.

Muffin greets him at the door, his tags giving a soft jingling sound not unlike Jake’s dog tags. He smiles.

“Did you look out for our girls? Yeah? Good boy.” He rubs behind Muffin’s ear, then ventures further into the house. He can faintly hear the TV in the living room, so that’s where he goes, the sound of his heavy boots muffled on the carpet.

There you are, curled up on the sofa, asleep. Jake smiles to himself. He missed you so much. He was only gone for a week, possibly the shortest mission he’s ever been on, but he missed you the second he said goodbye.

He doesn’t really want to wake you, if you fell asleep on the couch you probably need the sleep. But he wants to see your eyes, your smile, wants to hear your voice. So he slowly crouches down by your side and gently pushes your hair out of your face before running the back of his hand over your cheek, back and forth until your eyelids start to flutter.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers and then your eyes finally snap open. He watches as they fill with tears and then you throw your arms around his neck and pull him close. It only takes him a millisecond to reciprocate the hug. Holding you tight, he leaves kisses on your temple.

After a while you lean back to look at him and seeing the tears streaming down your face breaks his heart. “What are you crying for?”

“Happy tears,” you assure. “I’m just happy to see your stupid face again.”

He chuckles, “You don’t think my face is stupid.”

You shake your head. “No, I really don’t.”

This makes Jake laugh out loud. He squeezes you a little tighter. “I missed you, too.”

And then you stand there just looking at each other.

He’s home. You still think you’re dreaming as you stare at him standing right in front of you. His green eyes are sparkling in the low light of the living room and you’re filled with such a warmth you can’t put it into words. Or maybe you can. Because it’s love. You love him. You’re about to open your mouth and just blurt the words but Jake is quicker.

“There’s something I promised to tell you when I get back.” He whispers, running his thumb over your cheek.

You nod, “And what’s that?” You don’t dare speak louder than a whisper, afraid to burst the bubble you’re in.

Jake’s eyes roam over your face before they lock on yours again. “I love you.” He says and then new tears are in your eyes.

“I love you, too.”

Jake seems just a little bit surprised at your words, “Yeah?” he sounds hopeful.

“Yeah,” you nod, “so much.”

“C’mere.” And then he finally pulls you into a kiss. You bury your hands in his short hair and pull him as close as you possibly can.

Never before has a kiss made you feel this much. Kissing Jake has always been special, you used to think it was just because of the sexual tension between you two, but it’s more than that. You don’t ever want to kiss someone else ever again.

Somehow you end up straddling him on the sofa, his hands on your hips. You feel him growing hard beneath you and it doesn’t help with curbing your own arousal. As you start grinding your hips against his, Jake moans into your mouth.

“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” you say, after pulling away just enough to talk. The tip of your nose is still brushing against his.

“You sure? We don’t have to.” Jake leans back just a little bit more so he can look at you. His thumbs have slipped under the fabric of your t-shirt, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

“I’m sure,” you nod. “I wanna feel you.” You feel Jake’s hands tighten around your hips before he lets out a breath.

“Okay,” he gives you one more deep kiss before he lifts you up and makes his way over to your bedroom. He gently lays you down on your bed, his hands roaming over your body and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anybody so bad.

You tried dating a few times since Josie was born, but nothing ever came of it. Did you need someone to scratch that certain itch every once in a while? Yes. And you got that. But it never became more than that.

But this? This didn’t feel like you needed to scratch an itch, to just get it over with and then you can go on with your life. Nothing has even really happened yet and you already know you won’t be able to get enough of him.

Slowly, so slowly, you undress each other. Both of you cherishing every inch of skin exposed. Until you’re bare in front of him, your knees either side of his head while he trails kisses over your inner thighs.

“So pretty,” he murmurs against your skin. “I missed your pretty pussy so much.” He gently runs his thumb over your clit and it sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. “Missed your taste.” And then he leaves a kiss on your clit before licking a stripe up your middle. “So sweet,” he hums before doing it again. All you can do is bury your hands in his hair, arch your back and pull him closer.

It’s like devouring you is Jake’s favourite pastime, he’s got his eyes closed, one of his hands gripping your thigh, the other on your belly to keep your hips steady. And every time you’re about to come, he moves away and peppers kisses on your inner thighs again.

“Jake, please.” You finally whine, tugging on his hair.

“Please, what?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Need you inside me.” You give his hair another tug, and he finally crawls over you, so his head is hovering over yours. You can smell yourself on his lips and it makes even more warmth pool between your thighs.

You can’t really read the expression on his face until he says, “I didn’t bring any protection.” He gently moves your hair out of your face.

“I don’t have anything here either,” you realise. You weren’t expecting to have sex anytime soon. Were you thinking about doing it with Jake? Absolutely. But you didn’t allow yourself to actually consider it until he was home safe. You sigh. “And I’m not on birth control, either,” you admit. “It should be a safe time though …” you trail off. Is it reckless to have unprotected sex when you’ve already had an unplanned pregnancy? Yes, absolutely. Is the thought as scary as it should be? No.

“You mean …?” Jake tilts his head.

“I’m healthy. And if you’re planning on sticking around …”

Jake places a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m sticking around. I’m not gonna leave again, unless you want me to. I might not always be around, but I’ll always come home to you. Always.” The honesty in his voice makes you tear up again. You wind your legs around his hips and feel him heavy against your thigh.

“If you’re okay with it … I’m willing to risk it.” You haven’t even fully uttered the sentence before his lips are on yours again.

“I’m willing to risk it with you any time, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” you say and pull him into another kiss.

“And I love you. So much.”

And then he positions himself at your entrance and slowly pushes in. You throw your head back because it just feels that good. When his hips are flush against yours he pauses for a second, both of you enjoying the feeling of finally being together.

Jake starts moving in and out of you slowly, filling you with leisurely thrusts. And it feels so good. Until you need more.

“More,” you moan.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

“That’s okay.”

“I want you to come first.”

“I’ll come with you.” You move your hands between your bodies and start rubbing your clit. It doesn’t take long for Jake to pick up his thrusts, the tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot every time.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his movements becoming erratic.

“Come for me Jake,” you whine. “Come inside me, please.”

You feel him starting to twitch inside you. “Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.” And then he’s kissing you again, swallowing your moans while bucking his hips into you, his release painting your walls and you’re right there with him. Goosebumps are covering your body and all you can feel is him.

You stay like that for a while, both of you catching your breath, his heavy weight on top of you, but you’re enjoying it. You feel safe, you feel loved.

When Jake pulls out his eyes are fixated on the way your combined come drips out of you.

“So fucking beautiful,” he runs his fingers through your folds, spreading your juices, and starts playing with your clit. A moan bursts out of you.

“You got one more in you”?

“I don’t know, Jake.”

“C’mon, baby. One more.” The nickname is new, but you don’t mind it. It makes your insides flutter.

“Kiss me.” He obliges, his thumb on your clit as he enters you with two of his fingers while kissing you senseless. When he moves his kisses down your neck you can’t contain your moans.

“You gotta be quiet, baby. As much as I’d love to hear you scream for me. Can you do that for me?” You nod and bite your lips together. “Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re on the edge again and with one more flick of your clit you’re coming again.

“That’s it. That’s it, baby. Just like that. Look at you. So gorgeous.” Jake’s words and his gentle caresses carry you through your orgasm until you’re completely spend and you’re too sensitive. When he notices, he moves his hand away and gives you another kiss. “My sweet girl. So good for me.”

“I love you.” It seems you can’t stop telling him.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I love you.”

✩̿✪̿✩̿

You’re woken up by a trail of kisses being left on your shoulder. You’re still tired but at the same time you feel like you’re filled to the brim with energy. You and Jake didn’t get much sleep last night. Turns out when he said ‘one more’ he was lying. Because there were two more in the shower after that.

You slowly turn around so you can look at him. His hair is messy and the warm sunshine falling through the window makes him look like an angel.

“Hi.” You can’t contain your smile and Jake mirrors your expression.

“Hi,” with the arm he’s got wrapped around you he pulls you closer to him. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

You didn’t think it was possible but your smile becomes even bigger. “Good morning.”

“You look happy.”

“I am.” You admit. “Could get used to waking up like this.” You wind your leg around his hip, and you can feel him against your core even through multiple layers of clothing, it’s enough to make your heart start racing. The look in Jake’s eyes becomes heated.

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your ass and gives it a squeeze. It makes you giggle.

“Mhm.” You nod, shuffling just a little closer to him.

“Well, funny you mention that, actually.” Jake’s hand is running over your back and it takes a moment for his words to register.

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sit up a little, shifting so now Jake’s on his back while you’re partially hovering above him.

“I’ve got this new position that requires me to stay in San Diego long term. And I kind of need a place to stay.” You can only look at him with wide eyes. What? “I don’t have to … I can just … If you don’t want me to, I can look for a place of my own. I didn’t mean to just … invite myself, I guess. I just thought—“

You interrupt him with a kiss. “You’re staying here?”

“Yeah,” he nods and smiles a little sheepishly. “I got a position at Top Gun. Nothing special but with the possibly of becoming an instructor one day.” He shrugs. “I’ll be right here for the foreseeable future. I wanna be close to you and Josie. Even if you don’t want me moving in, which I understand—“

“You want to move in?”

“Of course I do. We’ve already lost so much time, I’ve lost so much time with Josie … I don’t want to lose any more. You’re it for me sweetheart. I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Your mouth drops open at that.

“If you want to.” He smiles. “I want to give you your dream life, with the husband and the white picket fence … two point five kids.“

You pinch him playfully, but then lean in to give him another kiss.

“Sounds like a plan,” you murmur, before kissing him again. Jake pulls you closer and you can feel the smile on his lips. He breaks the kiss and you can tell he’s about to say something when you hear the door being opened slowly.

It’s Saturday morning, and that usually means Josie will come over for some cuddles before breakfast. You turn to the door with a smile.

Josie pokes her head in, her hair messy from sleep and here eyes still halfway closed. That changes when she notices you’re not alone.

“Daddy?”

“Hey, Peanut.” That’s all it takes for Josie to come running towards the bed, climbing on it and tackling Jake in a hug.

“I missed you soooooooo much,” Josie shouts, and Jake laughs.

“I missed you, too. Every second of every day,” he smiles.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Just like you promised yourself you would, you spent the following week doing nothing except spend time with Josie. Except, you’re not doing it alone but with Jake. He’s got a bit of free time before starting his new position and while he needs to move his stuff down from Lemoore, he claims he doesn’t have much to move, one trip would suffice.

Together, the two of you decided to just take the plunge and have him move in. Why waste any more time? Josie was quite possibly the biggest fan of that idea. Jake will have a shadow 24/7 if she has her way, but you don’t think Jake would have a problem with that.

“You ready?” Jake pokes his head into the bathroom, where you’re finishing your make-up.

“Almost.”

“I love you.”

You turn to Jake with a smile. He’s been saying it every chance he gets, says he needs to make up for the last six years.

“I love you, too, you big goof.”

“Hey!” He playfully pouts, “don’t let the others hear you call me that. I have a reputation to uphold.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what would you like me to call you instead?”

Jake stalks into the bathroom, pretending to think. He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “How about Daddy?” He whispers and you can’t stop the goosebumps from appearing on your arms.

“Why am I not surprised?” You laugh. “Should’ve known you’re into that.”

Jake hums, then says, “Only because you made me one.”

The Hard Deck is not super busy this evening, it’s still early and the middle of the week but Jake wanted to introduce you to the people who made sure he got home safe. Even though he was the one who saved Maverick and Rooster, but Jake won’t be petty. Maybe.

Jake’s almost bursting with excitement as he pulls you by the hand, Josie on his hip. The group’s chatting in the back of the bar but as soon as they spot Jake all conversation stops.

“Is that Bagman or am I hallucinating?” Phoenix stage whispers.

Coyote nods, “I think it’s real.”

Jake rolls his eyes before pulling you into his side. “I wanted you guys to meet my family.” He introduces you, then looks at Josie. “And this is my daughter Josie.”

Josie blushes, then rests her head on his shoulder and waves.

For a moment the rest of the squad just stare. Then Phoenix is the first to speak up again, “Hi, Josie. It’s so nice to meet you.” She gives Jake a look as if she’s never seen him before.

“I guess that explains where you’ve been half the time.” Coyote muses.

“I had some groveling to do,” Jake nods. “And they’re much better company than you guys.”

The whole group breaks out into protest but Jake just shrugs his shoulders.

He turns to you, “You good on your own for a moment? I’ll go get us something to drink.”

“Of course, go ahead.” You smile and for a second Jake just takes you in, then he sets Josie down beside you and gives you a kiss.

“I’ll be right back.”

At the bar, Jake leans against the bar top and watches as you talk to the squad. He didn’t realise it, but while he was starting to rebuild his relationship with you and getting to know Josie, the three of you slowly becoming a family, he also gained another family. He knows he was an asshole when they were first put together as a team, but ultimately, he grew to love these people. Even Rooster.

As if he had conjured him, Rooster shows up next to him. A certain understanding pass between the two men, then Rooster says, “You look good, Hangman.”

Jake huffs a laugh and smiles, “I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. I’m happy.”

~~~

A/N: This is it... the end. For now at least. I wanna write an epilogue so that will be coming but then it's time to say goodbye to these :(( who else is sad about that?

taglist: @annathesillyfriend ✪ @lovebittenbyevans ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0 ✪ @one-sweet-gubler ✪ @wooya1224 ✪ @iammirrorball ✪ @lolcaca ✪ @caitsymichelle13 ✪ @soulmates8 ✪ @soleilgrec ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy ✪ @winters-queen ✪ @i0veless ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae ✪ @mandyppp ✪ @dempy ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274 ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58 ✪ @hangmanscoming ✪ @caidi-paris ✪ @linkpk88 ✪ @djs8891 ✪ @lnmp89 ✪ @startrekfangirl2233 ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill ✪ @roostersforevergirl ✪ @celestialeviereads ✪ @blackwidownat2814 ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp ✪ @atarmychick007 ✪ @dakotakazansky ✪ @alana4610 ✪ @memoriesat30 ✪ @entertainmentgal8 ✪ @shanimallina87 ✪ @smoothdogsgirl ✪ @i3k2ts ✪ @frenchtoastix ✪ @twsssmlmaa ✪ @elijahmikaelsonbitch ✪ @simpxmarvel ✪ @harrysgothicbitch ✪ @midwestmarvelbabe ✪ @lunamoonbby ✪ @wkndwlff ✪ @anarchyrising

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin imagine #hangman top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #jake seresin smut #hangman smut

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alessiasfreckles · 9 months ago

Text

amnesia - part 9 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

a/n: uh-oh. i wonder what's going to happen next?

--------

You spent the next day and a half avoiding Ona, which was relatively easy, considering she was at training and you were not. On Sunday, though, the team had a game - their first one since you’d woken up that you’d be able to go to. Not only that, but it was Alexia’s first start since her knee surgery, so you were even more determined to go and cheer on your teammates.

When you got to the stadium, you were greeted excitedly by everyone, it being your first real reunion with the team since your accident. Your teammates all hugged you, even Ona, who you gave a small smile to but turned away from quickly. After some words of encouragement, you joined your other injured or non-playing teammates to watch the game.

It was exhilarating to be at the stadium again, and you wished more than anything that it could be you warming up on the pitch, ready to play. Still, even just being there was better than nothing. The first 45 minutes flew by, with goals from Aitana and Salma bringing the team up to 3-0 by half-time.

And then, within minutes of the second half starting, Alexia scored a goal. It was an incredible goal, flying over the head of the keeper before she even had time to register what was happening. Despite your leg and the doctor’s orders to rest as much as possible, you couldn’t help but jump up with your teammates, whooping and cheering for your captain.

The game ended 5-0, with Alexia scoring another goal before being subbed off. She was beaming as she came off the pitch, and you felt something flutter in your chest as she looked up at where you were sitting and grinned at you.

When the whole team went out after to celebrate, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that it wasn’t just you and Alexia. Still, it felt good to be out with everyone, and the doctor had said you were allowed to have one or two drinks, as long as you were sensible about it.

You wouldn’t have needed more than two anyway - after the first cocktail you already felt decidedly tipsy, the alcohol mixing with the medication you were taking for your leg and making your tolerance much lower than it was normally. You were sipping your second drink, watching your teammates laugh and dance, when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

It was Ona. “How are you doing?” she called over the music.

You shrugged, debating how to respond. She looked really fucking pretty, the lights glowing and bouncing off of her, highlighting the contours of her skin. “I’m good.”

She nodded, looking unsure suddenly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“You played really well today,” you said, leaning in so she could hear you. “You’re so fast!”

“Thank you,” Ona blushed. “Ale was the star of the show, though.”

You both looked over to where the blonde was dancing with Ingrid and Mapi. “Yeah. She’s so impressive.”

“She really is,” Ona nodded. You hadn’t noticed, but she was watching you watch Alexia now.

“And she’s really pretty,” you added. Okay, so maybe the second drink was hitting you already. “So pretty. You’re really pretty too, you know? You’re pretty in different ways but also the same, because you’re both so pretty.”

Ona’s eyebrows raised in surprise for a second, before she let out a laugh. “You’re really pretty too, amor.”

“I think… I think I did have a crush on Ale. At the start. Maybe I still do, but shh, don’t tell anyone,” you fake-whispered, bringing up your finger to your lips. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because you and me are dating, aren’t we? Even if things are kinda weird right now.”

“We are,” Ona said, and hesitated for a moment, before continuing. “But maybe you should tell her.”

“Tell who?”

“Tell Ale that you find her pretty, that you have a crush on her.”

You frowned, watching Alexia dance. Confusion flashed through your brain, cutting through the alcohol-induced fog. Why would Ona tell you to do that? Ona was supposed to be your girlfriend, why would she want you to tell Alexia about your feelings?

“You know,” Ona said, lips close to your ear. When had she moved that close? “Maybe Ale and I would be a good match? What do you think? You think we’re both pretty, right? Would we look good together?”

“I don’t understand,” you said, frowning. Images of Alexia and Ona together darted before your eyes. You had to admit that they would look amazing together, but jealousy burned in your stomach, and the guilt you felt about picturing them that way tasted acidic on your tongue. “What do you mean? And why should I tell her I think she’s pretty?”

“It doesn’t matter, don’t question it-” Ona started to say, before you angrily cut her off.

“Stop saying things like that! I’m not stupid, I can question things if I want to!” you took a step back, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp.

“No, I just mean-”

“You’re confusing me and I don’t understand why! Ever since I woke up you’ve been acting like I’m a child, like I can’t make decisions for myself, like I’m not smart enough to be told about things, and I fucking hate it!” your voice, filled with the frustration and anger you’d been keeping bottled up inside, cut through the sound of the music. Alexia looked over as she heard it to find you storming out, leaving Ona alone once again.

“Mierda, what did she say this time?” she muttered under her breath as she ran after you. She felt bad for Ona, she knew she’d been through a lot lately, but she had to stop pushing you and treating you like you were a child.

When she caught up to you, you were leant against the wall of the bar, the cool stone calming your temper.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Alexia asked, a worried frown on her face.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, biting back the angry thoughts you were having about Ona.

“Okay,” Alexia agreed simply, and you could have kissed her in that moment for not pushing you.

“Actually,” you pushed yourself off the wall. The fact that she wasn’t pushing you was exactly what you needed. “I don’t understand what Ona’s problem is. She keeps saying weird things and acting like I’m an idiot and babying me and I’m sick of it!”

“What things has she been saying?” the captain asked.

“I dunno, weird stuff, like asking me if I think you’re pretty - which I do, obviously, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you rambled, too caught up in your own tirade to notice Alexia’s cheeks reddening. “And, like, I told her about how I had, or have, I don’t know, a crush on you, and now she keeps making weird comments but, like, weird suggestive, when I thought she’d be jealous or annoyed or something? But it kind of feels like she’s just making fun of me for being confused about my feelings and it really sucks!”

“I’m sorry, amor,” the blonde nodded sympathetically, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat at your words.

“And I’m just sick of it! I don’t want her to treat me like this! I’m a grown-ass woman and I can make my own decisions about my own feelings and I deserve to be treated that way!” you exclaimed loudly. You finally looked over at Alexia, who was watching you intently, all attention focused on you. Your eyes trailed over her face, her eyes, her lips. “You’d treat me like an adult, wouldn’t you, Ale?”

“Of course, amor,” she said, smiling at you warmly, one hand on your waist to steady you.

“Good,” you said, taking a step forward and closing the gap between you. The alcohol gave you a boost of confidence, and in one swift movement, you took hold of her collar and pulled her closer, and kissed her.

Kissing Alexia was different to kissing Ona. Alexia’s lips weren’t as soft as Ona’s, but there was more fire behind the kiss, and as you let out a small gasp she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between your lips, just for a second, leaving you desperate to taste her again. She tasted different to Ona, too-

Fuck. Ona. Your girlfriend. Even if things weren’t great, she was still your girlfriend.

“Shit,” you whispered as you stepped back, one hand over your mouth, as if you were trying to cover up any evidence of what had happened. You looked around to see if any of your teammates had seen, only to be faced with Ona, who was standing just outside the door, mouth ajar, staring at you and Alexia.

“Shit.”

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas fanfic #ona batlle x alexia putellas #alexia putellas x ona batlle #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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featherandferns · 5 months ago

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daylight - ten

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 10 of the daylight series | read part 9 here

content warnings: mentions of abuse and bereavement

word count: 1.5k.

blurb: fulfilling your promise to Barry, what starts as a photoshoot for his website turns into some well-meaning advice.

“What’s biting your bark?”

You lower your camera down from your line of sight so you can meet Barry’s eyes. You hope that way you can decipher what he just said, but no. “What?”

“What’s the matter?” he translates with an eye roll. You shrug.

“Nothing. Why’d you ask?”

A small smirk starts to show as he nods to your camera. “Because you’ve just taken about five pictures with the lens protector still on.”

Frowning, you look down to your camera to find that he’s telling the truth. “Oh.”

You take it off and pocket it. How did you not notice?

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s not important,” you politely dodge, flashing him a smile. Barry raises his brows and you get the feeling that he’s not easily discouraged.

“This might come as a shock to you, but I was young once too,” Barry says. “So what is it? Boy trouble? Girl trouble?”

The apparent gay-rights ally Barry stands stoic, brow quirked and hands stuffed in his overall pockets, as he waits for your reply. You’re a little alarmed how easy he had your number down.

“Boy trouble, I guess,” you sigh. Shaking your head, you renew your smile. “It’s really not a big deal though. Let’s get these shots done before we lose the light, huh?”

To distract your busy mind from thoughts of JJ, you had gone to Barry’s to fulfil your offer of completing promo shots for his website. He was more than happy to indulge. He even went to the effort of putting on a fresh pair of overalls.

“Is this that Maybank kid?”

Okay, can this guy read your mind or something? The bewildered look on your face must be answer enough as Barry lets out a raspy laugh. His voice sounds like he’s been gurgling gas and inhaling smog for most of his years on earth. It’s weirdly comforting, like the smell of warm, fresh sawdust.

“Come on, kid,” he says, wandering over to one of the plastic lawn chairs that sits outside his garage. “Indulge me.”

For some reason, you do. You take the seat next to him, your camera turned off and placed in your lap.

“We, uh, got in this dumb fight the other day,” you find yourself saying. “You see, we’ve been spending more and more time together and just getting closer, I guess you could say.”

“Close enough to leave space for Jesus?” Barry wonders. Your face burns hot red.

“Me and you aren't good enough friends yet for you to get that kind of info, Barry,” you jokingly return, hoping your fluster doesn’t show. Barry bobs his head, your joshing response seemingly answer enough.

“Like I said, I was young once too,” comes his coded reply.

“Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “I started to get all twitchy about it ‘cause I didn’t know where we stood. And I’ve never been good at complicated. You see, I sorta dated this guy back when I lived in Canada and I guess you could say he did a number on me.”

“He mess ya around?”

“To put it nicely, yeah,” you say, smiling smally. “So I’m not very good at opening up to new possibilities and stuff. It doesn’t help that JJ’s so hard to read, either. He’s the kinda guy who says one thing but does another. And I know people tend to see what they want to see, but I swear to God, sometimes I catch him looking at me in a way that makes me think that maybe there’s something more there.”

“Would that be so bad if there was?” Barry wonders, slouching back in his chair.

Frowning, you look at him. His question passes in and out of your mind as realisation dawns upon you. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”

“I’m easy to talk to, kid," Barry shrugs. "My wife always said I was given God’s gifted ears: always good to listen but never much to talk."

You laugh softly.

“Yeah, she always came through with the good-enough advice for the both of us.”

Pursing your lips, you ponder his earlier question. You can’t seem to settle on an answer. “I’m not sure if it would be a bad thing. I guess I’m just scared that whatever the answer is, things might change. I don’t know if I want them to. I like how we are now.”

“And yet, you don’t,” Barry observes.

Chuckling, you nod. “Yeah. Guess I can’t win, eh?”

Looking down, you fiddle with the buttons and dials on your camera. Barry’s quiet for a while and you can practically hear his rusty cogs turning in his mind.

“You met that kid’s dad yet?” he asks, out of the blue.

“Who? JJ’s? No, I haven’t met him yet,” you say. “I’ve heard a bit about him though.”

“He’s a troubled guy,” Barry sighs. Shaking his head, he says, “I was friends with him a while back but some people just wanna drown, and sometimes you gotta swim away before you get taken down with ‘em. But that poor kid: he got stuck with two shabby parents. His mama up and left, and before that she was a lying, cheatin’ son of a bitch - not to speak too out of turn. His papa probably has a closer relationship with a bottle than with the kid.”

You think back to the other night, sat in JJ’s house, surrounded by trash and tumult. JJ’s own drinking and smoking habits were easy to catch onto. It worried you plenty but it felt wrong to lecture. He omitted his parents from most stories and anecdotes but you suppose you didn't notice all that much as you had a habit of doing the same.

“I say all this ‘cause I think you gotta understand something. That poor son of a bitch didn’t have the best example of what love was growing up,” Barry says with a sad shrug. “Sometimes that means you don’t always know it when you see it. So, maybe he don’t know how to tell you ‘cause he don’t know what it is.”

You sigh and look out to the desolate road that sits outside his garage. “Y’know, JJ told me about your wife and daughter. I’m really sorry.”

Barry goes quiet but the air doesn’t feel tense. You take it as space to continue.

“Your daughter was really pretty. I saw her in that photo in your shop.”

“She were an angel. God just needed her back home,” Barry quietly returns.

Looking to him, you smile, small and sympathetic.

Grunting, Barry leans forward. “Look, I’ve known JJ since he was yea-high,” he says, gesturing with his hand to the height of a small child. “He’s got a good heart but a short fuse. He runs.”

“That maybe explains why I haven’t heard from him since our fight,” you mumble. Barry’s smile feels like confirmation.

“But I tell you one thing that I do know. Just like my little angel: that kid is loyal to the bone. If he cares for someone, he sinks his darn talons in and don’t let go - no matter what. Even his dear old pops he’ll defend to the end of the earth if someone dare say a bad word ‘bout him, despite all the beating and berating.”

Your brows knit with that and your heart lurches.

“So, if you come a’callin’ then he’ll come a’runnin’, I’ll tell you that now,” Barry assures you. “You just gotta know what you’re callin’ for.”

Nodding, you take in his advice. It helps ease the anxious insomnia that has been eating away at you these past few days. You start to feel as though a path is being carved out for you, fresh and foreign, different to the one you tread with Tyler.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask Barry.

His eyes hold the weight of the worlds within them as he smiles kindly at you. “Cause you remind me of my daughter. I like to think that if she had lived to be your age, she’d have been just like you.”

That mark of high praise etches itself into your brain. You wear it like a badge of honour the way a wartime soldier might with his medals, and sit in quiet disbelief that someone would say something so generous to you.

After Barry’s well-guided advice, you get back to the photoshoot. You feel as though you saw him different through the camera lens after that. Every wrinkle on his forehead formed a map of his life: of hours spent at gravesites; of restless nights, alone in his house; of hard work at the garage, fixing and pimping out cars and trucks. Whilst some might say Barry wasn’t book-smart, he didn’t need to be. He was smart in the things that mattered. People and problems. With that intelligence, you find that as you walk back into your house, things feel less cluttered in your mind. It’s like he gave you the boxes to help organise all the thoughts you’d accumulated about JJ.

As you approach your bedroom door, that content smile that had stitched itself to your skin the whole journey home fades as you find it closed. You distinctly remember leaving it open. Slowly cracking it open, your mouth drops with your bag when your eyes land on the person sat on your bed.

“Mimsy?”

read part eleven here!

taglist:

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #outerbanks #obx fic #outer banks fic #outerbanks fic #jj fic #jj maybank fic #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 12

Welcome back to another addition of Dustin being absolutely chaotic as fuck and Robin inserts herself into a dangerous situation because she has to out sass an eighth grader.

This story really is nearing in the end of season 3, and I don't think this story will go for much longer than that. So it will probably be the next story I finish.

What this means is that soon I'll be starting up "The Hellfire Erotic Club" as I am already two chapters into sugar baby!Steve and sugar daddy!Eddie so that one is next on the docket. And as it sounds, it absolutely will be mature. It might even be my first explicit story I've written. So let me know if you want to be kept off the list for that one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Things mellowed out with Robin at work. She still had the YOU RULE/YOU SUCK board, but at least wasn’t throwing out snide comments and sneering glances every two seconds so Steve absolutely counted that as a win.

And he continued to flirt badly. The worst was when Eddie and Jeff had stopped by after touring the music store.

“It’s the hat,” Steve said with moue. “It’s ruining my best feature.”

Robin snorted. “Your best feature? You don’t have one.”

Steve rolled his eyes and took off the hat. “My hair is my best feature, of course. I was the Hair in school, after all.” He threw it off the side and did a mocking shimmy with his shoulders before heading to register to greet a group of giggling girls.

“Hello, ladies,” he said smoothly. “My name is Steve and I’ll be your captain on this journey on the ocean of flavor. What can I get you today?” And then to really sell it. He winked.

The girls as he expected were completely turned off and hurried to get away as soon as possible. But hey at least Jeff got the number of one of the girls. So yay, gay wingman for the win! Or whatever.

Eddie came loping up to the counter, Jeff close on his heels. “That has got to be the most depressing thing I have ever had the misfortune to witness.”

“Seriously dude,” Jeff said with a wince. “Your mojo must have got up and went. Holy shit.”

Steve just pursed his lips and waved vaguely in Eddie’s direction. Eddie and Jeff giggled, but Robin frowned in confusion.

“Why does Munson being here affect your flirting?” she asked. “Because from what I’ve seen it doesn’t matter if he’s here or not, your flirting is always bad.”

He just shrugged. “Maybe the PTA is right and Eddie can cast evil spells and cursed me.”

Eddie wiggled his fingers at her, but she just rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. If he could cast spells Mrs. O’Donnell would be dead by now.”

The three boys cackled.

“Or maybe,” Jeff said seriously, “the girls remember Stevie here hanging out with us freaks and geeks last year and think he’s suddenly beneath him. You know, now that he’s not King Steve anymore?”

Robin’s mouth open and closed like a fish before she snapped it shut with an audible click. She blushed a dark red and was grateful that a mother with her two young sons came in just then so she could avoid the awkwardness that followed.

“I’m off in five minutes,” Steve said, “if you two want to wait around?”

Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and then Eddie nodded. “Sure, we could hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said with a half shrug. “I don’t have anything to do today.”

Steve moved off to the side to start scooping the lady’s order. He gave each of the kids a cone and the sundae to the mom. Then he tossed the scooper into the warm water they kept nearby to keep the scooper clean. He walked to the back and returned within seconds.

Just then the power went out. Steve sighed and went over to the light switch. He flipped it up and down.

“That didn’t work two days ago,” Robin hissed. “And it’s not going to work now.”

Eddie peered at Steve through the dark. “This happened a couple of days ago, too?”

“It’s because of how hot it is outside,” Steve said. “Which makes the AC run overtime and it blows the breaker.” He sounded like he was repeating something someone else said as he continued to flip the switch and then the lights came back on. Just as Steve was about to leave again, Dustin came running up to Steve, skidding to a stop when he saw Robin, Eddie, and Jeff standing there.

“Hey, guys,” he said with a strained smile on his face. “Can I talk to Steve for a moment? I won’t take up much of his time. I promise.”

That got Steve’s hackles up. He turned to Eddie and begged him with his eyes to understand what this meant. Eddie tilted his head to the side for a moment, before his mouth formed an ‘O’.

“Jeff and I will be at Suncoast Video,” he said, “we’ll be there when you’re done.”

Jeff blinked at him for a moment trying to decide if it was the worth the fight. Then he shrugged and followed Eddie away from the strange tableau behind them.

Robin eyed them suspiciously as the two boys went to go sit down.

“What’s up, bud?” Steve asked, a nervous chill sliding down his spine. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down.

“So because my ma doesn’t want me racking up her phone bill calling Suzie,” he said, “I put up, with a little help from Lucas, Will, and Mike, a communications tower so we could talk.”

Because of course they did. They were geniuses when it came to building that kind of shit, but not so much in why they shouldn’t.

“And there was this weird Russian transmission,” Dustin explained hurriedly. “I don’t want to show you the recording yet, not with so many people around. But I can I meet up at your place later tonight?”

Steve was about to turn the kid down. After all, he had tried the hero racket and it blew. All he got for his troubles was ringing in his ears and the biggest break up of his life.

“Just think, if we solve this then we can be celebrated for exposing a Communist plot!” he exclaimed. “We could be American heroes, Steve!”

Oh. That did sound nice. There was no chance of him putting his body on the line for a recording in Russia after all. “Sure thing, bud.”

There was no keeping the stupid little transmission from Eddie or Robin. The first one wasn’t a surprise, really. Eddie was attached to Steve’s hip like he’d always been right there. Robin was more of a shock, to be honest. She just inserted herself where she didn’t belong on sheer sass alone.

Because Dustin had all the tact of a bull in a china shop, he had been whining about not being able to translate the message. When suddenly the window to the back slid open with a slam.

“You do know you’re in public, right?” she huffed. “If you’re trying to being sneaky about it, you’re failing miserably.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Like you’re so smart.”

Robin raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And how many languages do you speak, dork?”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, then tried to stifle a laugh, Steve by biting his lip and Eddie by shoving his hair in front of his face.

“Two!” Dustin huffed, puffing out his chest. “Binary and English.”

“Binary doesn’t count,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t ‘speak’ it. I speak French, Spanish, and Italian. That’s four.”

Dustin crossed his arms. “Does to and besides I didn’t hear Russian on that list.”

She tilted her head and smirked. “And how do you even know it’s Russian?”

Dustin’s jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes bulged out of his head.

“Just because it sounds ‘Russian’,” Robin said, using air quotes around the word Russian, “doesn’t mean it’s not some other Slavic language.”

Dustin’s bottom lip quivered. “And how many Slavic languages are there?”

Her grin turned feral and she leaned on the counter, looking him dead in the eye. “Eighteen if you don’t count the different dialects for each region, then you’re looking at something closer to twenty-five.”

“There’s no way there’s that many!” Dustin cried.

Steve bumped his shoulder into his. “Why don’t you let her hear it? What’s the worst thing that could happen? That she doesn’t recognize the language? It’d be no different from where we are now.”

“Come on, Dusty,” Eddie implored. “Or do I have to tell Suzie that you think girls aren’t as smart as boys?”

Dustin turned to glare at the older teen. “That’s a low blow, man.”

He looked over at Robin who was eyeing him expectantly and sighed. “Fine, here.” He handed her the portable tape deck and sat back to watch.

The message came through the small device and Robin listened to the whole thing, before rewinding it and playing it again.

“So what do you think?” Dustin asked after her third listen through. “Is it Russian?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk. “And probably in code.”

But before Dustin could answer, Eddie leaned on the front counter. He had been watching Steve the whole time Robin had been listening to the recording. When she got to the end, Steve would frown. Even with half of a banana stuffed in his cheeks like a chipmunk.

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“There’s something about the music,” he muttered, tapping his fingers and humming the tune.

Dustin huffed. “Can you please pay attention to the important part, Steve? The apparently secret coded message in Russian?”

Steve shoved the rest of the banana in his mouth and chewed silently. He swallowed roughly and asked Robin to play the music again.

“Steve!” Dustin snapped. “What did I just say?”

Eddie glared at him. “Shut it, kid.” And Eddie began to listen to the music, too. Then Steve and Eddie made eye contact as they both got it at the same time.

Steve grabbed Dustin’s wrist and dragged him out of the ice cream shop, Eddie fast on their heels. They reached the Merry-Go-Round and Steve tried to pull out a couple of quarters but they fell to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but Eddie shoved a couple of quarters from his pocket into Steve’s hands.

Steve put the quarters into the Merry-Go-Round, while Eddie and Dustin stood by. Eddie smiled, smug and Dustin stood there, glowering at Steve, arms crossed.

The carousel roared to life. And then music started.

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Steve and Eddie shared a grin.

“That’s the music from the recording!” he continued. “How did you recognize it?”

Eddie laughed.

“Because I hear it at least two or three times a shift,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “It’s hard to miss because it’s so loud and so close to Scoops Ahoy.”

Dustin frowned and pouted because he had thought that Steve was just being his usual spacy self. But he actually figured it out.

As the three of them walked back to the ice cream shop, he said, “All that tells us is that Russians like carousels.”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance over his head.

“That’s an Indiana Flyer carousel,” Steve said slowly. “As in they only make them in Indiana.”

Dustin stopped short and his eyes widened in fear. “Does that mean they’re here in the state?”

Eddie shook his head. “Worse than that, Dusty. I’m pretty sure they’re here in the mall.”

Steve’s heart sank. He had been hoping that they would be able to solve this without getting directly involved, but that had just flown away like a startled butterfly.

Now all he had to do was convince himself that the Russians weren’t in Hawkins for the gateways to the Upside Down.

It was going to be a tough sell and he knew deep down it was never going to stick.

There were Russians in Hawkins and they were most likely here for Hell.

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING!

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #boy with a bat

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