#Penny the Money Truck

[bloodychurch]

Since it's international women's day —

Fem Purse. I gently and lovingly call her Penny. Actresses included are Kerry Stammers, Samantha Foker, Charlotte Avery and Ruthie Stephens. Love her

[wernerherzogs]

eddie diaz money laundering king you'll be famous forever

[thefangirl-16-blog]

Yall I'm lowkey making a stex oc again

[itneverendshere]

omg omg i’m completely inlove with bartender reader and rafe!! what if the reader saves up her money to get rafe something special as a just because gift, something to show that shes grateful for him or maybe handmade some gift for him

it hits different 'cause it's you - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 2.5k

thank you so much for loving them and for you request 🫂

Between the country club, side gigs, and saving every extra penny, you’d finally done it. You had something for Rafe.

You turned the little bracelet over in your hands, the silver chain glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. It felt kind of ridiculous at first—getting him a gift. Rafe could buy whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t the point. This was your first birthday together, and you wanted to give him something that came from you.

Something that showed him you were grateful for everything he’d done. Because even though you’d heard all the stories about how terrible he could be—and you’d seen flashes of it sometimes—he’d always been different with you. Softer, quieter, like everything around him softened when it was just the two of you. You didn’t need the flashy gifts or the five-star dinners, though he insisted on both.

You needed him. The Rafe you knew when it was just the two of you sitting in his truck by the beach, laughing over nothing.

A handmade bracelet, not flashy but personal. You’d saved up for the silver chain, a simple one but still nice. But the charms? Those were the important part. Tiny reminders of things you’d shared: a little compass for those late-night drives home where you’d just get lost on purpose, a wave for the time he dragged you out surfing (even though you had no idea what you were doing), and a tiny heart because, well, obvious reasons. 

You didn’t care if he thought it was dumb.

You’d spent weeks working on it between shifts, sneaking away to the little craft store on the mainland to find the perfect pieces. It wasn’t expensive, but it had you in it—your time, your memories, your effort. And you hoped that was enough.

You’d been nervous all day, counting down the minutes until you could finally give it to him. Rafe had picked you up after work, his grin lighting up the parking lot, and now the two of you were sitting on the hood of his truck, the ocean breeze cool against your skin. His birthday dinner had been perfect, of course—he'd made sure of that.

He’d insisted on this little restaurant by the beach, his favorite, and the sunset view had been unreal, like something out of a movie. But you’d been quiet.

He nudged you with his shoulder. “What’s up? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

You fumbled with the zipper of your purse, pulling out the small, wrapped box. “I… I got you something.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. “For me?”

“No, for the other guy I’m sitting on a truck with,” you teased, nerves bubbling up. “Yeah, for you.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

Rafe carefully unwrapped the box, pulling out the bracelet. He held it up, the charms catching the light. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and your heart sank, wondering if he thought it was cheap or lame compared to everything he was used to.

But then he looked at you, his blue eyes soft and serious in a way that made your chest tighten. “You made this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, twisting your hands in your lap. “It’s nothing crazy. Just, uh, little things that remind me of us.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just turned the bracelet over in his fingers, tracing the charms. Then, without a word, he slipped it onto his wrist, the silver chain looking a little out of place next to his expensive watch. 

“You can wear as a keychain if you want— or, I dunno, maybe keep it somewhere. You don’t have to wear it,” you added quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could stop them.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn’t going to wear it, not with all his designer clothes and luxury watches.

But Rafe didn’t even flinch. He glanced down at his wrist, then back at you, “I want to wear it.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to just because I gave it to you.”

“Course I do.”

Your cheeks felt warm, and you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not sure what to say next.

Rafe just grinned, like he could read your mind or something.

“What?” he asked, nudging you again with his shoulder. “You think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I mean…You wear designer everything. This is… it’s kinda cheap compared to that.”

He gave a small laugh, shaking his head. “Cheap doesn’t mean it’s not special. You made it, and that’s what I care about.” He paused, then added softly, “It’s from you. That’s what matters.”

Your heart did this little flip in your chest, and you had to bite back the stupid smile spreading across your face. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. This is us.” He held up his wrist, the bracelet catching the fading light from the sunset. “Every charm means something, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, suddenly feeling shy. “I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I couldn’t give you something better.”

He turned fully toward you, his hands gently cupping your face.

“Better? Baby, no. This is perfect. No one’s ever given me something like this before.” He kissed your forehead, and you felt yourself melt a little bit. “I don’t need ‘better’ or more expensive shit. I’ve got enough of that. I need this.”

You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that someone like Rafe—who could literally have anything—wanted something as simple as a handmade bracelet. But he did. And it made your heart ache in the best way.

“I’m glad you like it,” you whispered, resting your hand on his chest.

“I don’t just like it. I love it,” he said, his voice soft. Then, as if he could feel how much this moment meant to you, he added, “And I love you.”

That did it. 

Your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, that big, stupid, giddy smile you only got when you were with him. “I love you too,” you whispered, like you were saying it for the first time all over again.

Rafe kissed you, slow and sweet, and it felt like time had stopped for a moment—just you, him, and the sound of the ocean in the background.

When he pulled back, he glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist again and smiled. “I’m never takin’ this off, you know.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s not get crazy.”

But he just smirked and kissed the top of your head. “No, I mean it. This? It’s a part of us now.”

“Not even when you shower?”

You could feel his shit-eating grin against your temple, “You thinkin’ about me showering?”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you tried to keep a straight face. "Shut up," you muttered.

“That’s not what you were sayin’—”

“Okayyyy,” You interrupted pushing his chest away, “We get it.”

You turned your face away, hiding your grin as he laughed, that deep, rumbling sound that always made your heart skip a beat. Being with Rafe was like that—playful and intense all at once, always keeping you on your toes but making you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to sound exasperated, though the smile on your face gave you away.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you tighter. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, the waves crashing softly in the background, the air cool but not cold. Everything felt easy in moments like this. Just you and him.

“I’m serious though,” Rafe said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “No one’s ever done anythin’ like this for me before. You don’t even know how much it means.”

His fingers absentmindedly traced the bracelet again, like he still couldn’t believe it was his.

Your heart swelled a little, knowing that something as simple as a handmade gift could mean so much to someone like him. Rafe had everything—money, cars, houses. But maybe, in some weird way, he needed something that couldn’t be bought. Something that came from you.

“I’m glad,” you whispered, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “I just… I wanted you to know that I see you, you know? Not just all the surface stuff.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, his hand finding yours and giving it a squeeze. “You do. You really do.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. And in that moment, it hit you how much he’d become a part of your life, how much he’d broken down those walls you didn’t even know you’d put up.

“I’m not taking it off,” he repeated, more serious this time, like he needed you to believe it.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay, Rafe. Whatever you say.”

The bracelet, the moment, this night—it was more than just a gift.

“You’re still givin’ me birthday sex, right?”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, “Seriously? I pour my heart out, and this is where you go?”

He grinned that mischievous, cocky grin of his—the one that made your stomach flip even when you pretended to be annoyed.

“What? I’m just saying, it is my birthday, after all.” His voice dropped, teasing, playful, the way it always got when he was trying to push your buttons.

You shoved his shoulder, pretending to be all serious, but he just caught your wrist, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours, “But you love me anyway.”

You smiled, your heart doing that stupid flutter thing again. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” he raised an eyebrow, looking all mock offended, but there was that softness in his eyes again—the one he only ever let you see.

You kissed him before he could say anything else, slow and sweet, letting the teasing fall away for just a second.

And when you pulled back, you whispered, “Of course I love you. Birthday sex or not.”

Rafe chuckled, his hands slipping down to your ass, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You tried to glare, but the way his thumb was tracing circles on your lower back made it hard to keep up the act. “I don’t have to admit anything.” You leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “But maybe... if you’re lucky..”

Rafe’s breath hitched just a little, and it sent a thrill down your spine. You loved this—having him wrapped around your finger. He always lost it when you played the game right back.

"Now who's teasing’?" he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, leaving little kisses that made it hard to keep your thoughts straight.

"You started it," you whispered back, your fingers finding the edge of his collar, tugging him closer until there was barely any space left between you.

Your legs ended up draped over his, and you could feel his hands on your thighs, warm and familiar, as you settled deeper into his lap. His lips traced your jaw, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of this, and your head tilted back instinctively, giving him more room.

God, he knew exactly how to make you melt without even trying.

Rafe’s hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. He always knew how to make you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. “You’re gonna drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you yet. 

You leaned into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest as he finally kissed you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in that gentle way that made you flutter. He tilted his head slightly, angling the kiss, like he was savoring every second he had you this close. You kissed him back just as slowly, letting yourself get lost in it. 

The kiss was deliberate, slow, like he wanted to memorize the way your lips moved against his, the taste of you, the quiet sighs you couldn’t hold back. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, deepening the kiss as his other hand traced gentle circles along your thigh.

“Y’know I’m crazy about you, right?” he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, your heart doing that annoying thing again. “Yeah. Happy birthday, baby.”

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers still tracing lazy circles on your leg.

Then, in the same casual tone he used when asking about what to eat for dinner, he said, “You know, you should make the same bracelets for our kids when we have them.”

Your brain screeched to a stop.

Wait, what?

You blinked up at him, your heart skipping a beat for a completely different reason now. “I’m sorry, what?”

He grinned like he didn’t just casually drop the most insane statement ever. “I’m serious. Like, one day when we have kids—you should make them little bracelets like this. It'll be a thing.”

You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around what he just said. “Rafe, we’ve been together, what… less than a year? And you’re already talking about kids?”

He shrugged, completely unfazed by the shock on your face. “Yeah, why not? I can see it, y’know? You, me, little mini-us running around—driving us crazy. It’d be fun.”

You blinked again, your mind still catching up.

Kids? Your kids? Together? You tried to picture it for a second—little versions of Rafe, with his mischievous ways and messy hair, running around. 

“Wait, hold up—you want kids with me?”

 “Yeah.”

“Plural?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah. A few. Maybe more.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “A few? Oh my God, you’re insane.”

He smirked, looking way too pleased with himself.

“What, you can’t picture it? I bet they’d have your eyes. Or my attitude. Definitely my attitude.”

“Great, that’s exactly what the world needs.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer, “Not, like, tomorrow. But one day. You’d be a great mom, don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Okay, maybe once. Can we just get through your birthday first?”

“Fine, fine. But just so you know, when the time comes, you’re making all of them little bracelets.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’ll consider it... if they don’t take after you too much.”

“Oh, they will. And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

[inkskinned]

for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

[devildomwriter]

The Spirit of Giving | Mephistopheles x Reader

1K+ words | GN! Reader | CW: None

“Thank you so much for coming with me, Mephistopheles!”

“Why, of course.”

Christmas songs echoed over the speakers of the supermarket as you pushed an empty basket toward the toy aisle.

Mephistopheles accompanied you, making the excuse it was to investigate the human world during the holiday season but you could see a faint blush every time you smiled at him.

In the spirit of the holidays, you decided to help with the toy drive for the local impoverished kids. Mephistopheles, being as rich as he was, did not understand the concept that five-dollar toys could not be bought. This made his journey to buy toys with you that much more interesting.

He observed dolls of stylish monsters, miniature versions of food, plastic garbage trucks, and mystery stuffed animals with horns and large eyes. He was entertained, to say the least. Humans had such a wide variety of interests. He looked at the tiny tricycles and chuckled imagining a small child playing with it so he quickly picked it up and put it into the cart.

“Uh, how much is that?”

“It’s only forty.”

“I have a two hundred dollar budget, maybe let’s try quantity instead of quality. That way more kids can get things.”

“Two hundred?” Mephistopheles was baffled. To him this wasn’t even a budget it was less than pennies. “That’s far too little, make it a million, that’s more reasonable.”

“Are you out of your mind!? I don’t have anywhere near that much!”

“But I do, I’ll take over from here, push the basket and I’ll put things in it. Does this place have shopping assistants?”

“This is a Walmart…”

“That doesn’t answer my question?”

“It definitely doesn’t have any.”

“Hmph. I’ll call by butler from the limo, he can help us. I’ll summon a few more while I’m at it.”

Although you felt small pangs of jealousy that this money was nothing to him you were more overwhelmed with the joy of how excited the kids in shelters were going to be.

You quickly took his hand as soon as he hung up the phone and grinned.

“Let’s get shopping!”

He was flustered for a moment but quickly composed himself and matched your smile. “Right! Tell me what they like?”

“Okay! Let’s start with the little ones!”

Mephistopheles was confused by the idea of a giraffe specifically meant for children to chew. Weren’t they born with fangs? How else can they defend themselves?

And why are all their toys so soft? Will wood and plastic break them? He couldn’t believe any of them made it to adulthood.

“Okay, these ones are for kids around eight to ten,” you explained walking down the aisle. “This side is girl-coded and this one boy-coded.”

He took a moment to look around. “There certainly are a lot of dinosaurs and fake bugs. What is this… a robotic cockroach…” he grimaced.

You laughed at his expression and nodded, “I don’t know what to tell you. I can say for certain though I was a dinosaur kid, hand me one of the moving t-Rexes.”

“This one?” He asked as he handed you a triceratops.

“Nope, but we can get that too.”

He smiled and nodded approvingly as the third basket was filled and passed off to one of the butlers he summoned.

“And these dolls that look like monsters…these are for little girls?”

“Yes. Monster High, it’s a childhood staple.”

“I see. What’s next on the list…arts and crafts?”

“My favorite!” You exclaimed loudly which caught him by surprise but he followed your brisk pace down to the next aisle.

At one point you noticed several employees watching you warily, as well as security standing near the butlers waiting with their full baskets. You decided to ignore it in favor of shopping as eventually they’d see you weren’t trying to steal anything.

“Aren’t guns…an issue? Why are there so many mock guns for kids to play with?”

“It’s a nerf gun, don’t question it.”

“And this…thing…”

“I honestly don’t even know, kids are weird.”

“That they are…”

When it was time to check out the sun had set and the employees were very relieved they did not have an organized theft on their hands, as this was normal for Walmart.

As you sat in the limo you made sure to choose the middle seat right next to Mephistopheles.

“Oh?” He questioned, legitimately taken aback but he decided not to question it as you held his arm with both hands and rested your head against his shoulder.

He stiffened up and turned a deep shade of pink. “A-are you tired?” He stammered out.

“No. Just very happy.” You said as you smiled up at him and he turned a shade of red.

“Is that so? Well…I’m glad I could make you happy.” He hesitated to ask but was too curious not to. “And what have I done to please you so much?”

You were astonished he hadn’t put it together. “You bought toys for the little kids in need.”

“That made you happy? Even though they aren’t for you?”

You tilted your head curiously. “Then why did you help? Didn’t it make you happy, knowing a little boy can ride a bike now that his parents can’t afford it, if he even has any parents? Doesn’t it make you smile thinking about a little girl brushing her Barbie’s hair and showing her off at school? What about the kids who can race each other with remote-controlled cars or ride around in expensive fake cars? You don’t feel happy that thanks to you all of that is possible? That all these children are happy?”

Mephistopheles was silent but thought deeply for a moment. This wasn’t in line with how he was raised both as an aristocratic noble and as a demon. Happiness just from giving? And giving to someone with no recognition and no ties to you at all? He thought some more and realized that yes, he was happy. He felt he had a responsibility now to these kids to give them a good holiday even if he was against said holiday.

He smiled at you in confirmation and you snuggled deeper into his side. Pleased with how the short trip to the human world had gone, he let his guard down and rested his head atop yours. For the first time, the moral of Christmas had gotten through to him, and it was thanks to the adorable human attached to his side.

[loaksky]

i don’t celebrate thanksgiving, but could you guys imagine college!ellie taking roommate!reader home to jackson because she’d be alone for the holiday? short lil oneshot to get back into the groove of writing. do i hate this? yes.

recommended songs: alabama haint — penny and sparrow + what once was — her’s

warnings: language, a few brief mentions of family issues, suggestive content (kissing among other things) + mild sexual content, a lil misunderstanding and angst bc who am i if i don’t ??, CONFESSIONS because i’m a sloot for them. i think that’s it? not proofread ofc heh

it’s the weekend before thanksgiving, sunday to be exact, and ellie’s packing her backpack for joel’s. the energy in the the room’s a little off despite the fact that you’re normally reserved, and even though the two of you have only met this year, ellie’s learned to read you pretty well.

“you goin’ home for thanksgiving?” ellie asks absently, trying to make small talk as she rolls a sleep shirt and some pajamas haphazardly to stuff at the top of her bag.

there’s a pause that makes her brain itch before she sees the way you shake your head from where you’re hunched over a textbook at your desk.

“my family’s all over the place right now,” you answer honestly.

and ellie doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally, but the lack of emotion in your voice tells her that maybe she shouldn’t pry. she can’t help it, though. because you’re her sweet and quiet roommate who’d been serious (and maybe a little scary) at first, but turned out to be a goofball with a little bit of prodding.

so seeing you like this, checked out and maybe a little stressed, ellie treads cautiously.

“so you’re gonna stay here?” she asks.

you don’t even spare her a glance.

“yeah.” your shoulders shrug. “no point in dropping so much money for a plane ticket if i’m going to be sitting home alone anyways.”

ellie makes a noise in the back of her throat and you throw look over your shoulder.

“sorry,” you offer softly, smile sheepish. “that was a little depressing.”

ellie shakes her head.

“no, i get it,” she assures you. “my family’s not really...”

you blink at her as she trails off.

“conventional? i guess?”

another quiet blankets the two of you and ellie’s speaking before she can even filter through the repercussions of her next words.

“you’re always welcome to...y’know...come with,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “it’s not even a two hour drive.”

you hope ellie can’t tell that your cheeks are burning.

“you don’t have to, of course,” ellie blabbers. “but joel’s cool, so’s my uncle and his wife. it’d be nice, i think. and jackson’s pretty fun around this time of year...”

“i don’t wanna imp—”

ellie breathes a laugh.

“don’t,” she warns you, tips of her ears burning. “you’re more than welcome, seriously.”

it’s how you end up in the passenger seat of ellie’s old 4runner, heater on blast while sublime plays on the radio.

the car ride had consisted of ellie munching on cold fries the two of you had picked up from mcdonald’s before the interstate and you finally opening up about how your parents are divorced and how the holidays are a lot more stressful than they are pleasant.

ellie really feels for you, definitely knows the feeling losing her mom at a pretty young age and being adopted in middle school by a single, bereaved father. she tells you that they’d found each other when they needed the other the most.

and you don’t particularly know why you’re so nervous when ellie finally takes the exit off the interstate and you guys make your way through the suburbs. perhaps it’s the domesticity of meeting her family, or that you’re over a hundred miles away from familiarity, but your fingers are trembling when she turns into the neighbourhood and cozy brick homes line the frost-laden streets.

she’s pulling up and parking on the curb in front of a warm two-story that has a blue pickup truck and a gold SUV in the driveway when she notices.

“hey, hey,” she whispers, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands to stop the shaking. “you okay?”

her hands are warm when they close over yours and her thumbs is brushing over your skin soothingly.

“i’m being dumb,” you admit.

ellie’s eyes are crystal clear under the setting sun.

“don’t say that,” she says softly. “you wanna take a second?”

you swallow and shake your head.

“no, we can go,” you assure her.

she’s searching your face for any tell, but when you offer her a soft smile, she’s leaning back in her seat and nodding. before she completely pulls away, you’re stopping her.

“thanks, ellie,” you say gently. “this was really kind of you.”

she flashes you an easy smile, squeezes your hand a final time before climbing out of the car and rounding the front to help you out.

and truthfully, you realize you were nervous for nothing. because when the door swings open to reveal an older man aged with smile lines and greying hair, ellie seemingly softens infinitely.

“hey, kiddo,” he greets, crushing her in a hug so tight, she’s spluttering out a laugh.

“joel, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes.

you’re standing there awkwardly, backpack slung over your shoulder when joel finally loosens his hold on ellie and glances over her head.

“who’s this?” he asks, but the smile he wears is knowing.

“________, my roommate,” she introduces quickly, cheeks warming an awful shade of red as she begs every force above that joel won’t blow her cover.

because, okay, maybe ellie’s talked about you on the phone way more times than she’d care to admit out loud. talked about how intimidating you were at first, then graduated to talking about how you were actually so cool. and maybe she’d brought up the fact that she thought you were pretty. like...super pretty. and that maybe she was crushing a teensy bit.

“nice to meet you,” joel replies simply, sparing ellie this time around.

you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto, offering a smile that makes ellie wonder if she’ll survive the week with you in such a new proximity.

“nice to meet you, too,” you almost whisper, relaxing as he reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder.

“here, let me take this for you,” he says.

and it doesn’t take you long to realize where ellie gets it from. her kind spirit and fierce yet gentle heart. joel is soft-spoken, a little rough around the edges, but a warm energy that radiates through the home he’s made for himself and ellie.

it makes infinitely more sense enter tommy and maria, her uncle and aunt who tell you the silliest stories about the starry-eyed girl in her youth over dinner. who bring out her boisterous laughter when they sing old 80’s music over dishes and evening TV.

“your family’s so cool,” you say in awe, wrapped in one of her coats she’d dug out of the closet under the stairs.

you’re nursing a mug of hot chocolate that steams in the icy air of jackson on her back porch.

ellie breathes out a little laugh.

“they’re something,” she jokes, watching you over the rim of her mug.

you make her heart thud hard in her chest as she takes you in, bundled in pieces of her that make her think that she wouldn’t mind making you hers.

“i miss times like these,” you whisper.

ellie shifts closer, catching you by surprise when her thumb swipes over the curve of your top lip.

“sorry,” she hums quietly. “you had...uh...”

you let out a hollow laugh and shake your head, tell her that it’s fine as a silence blankets the two of you.

“i’m glad you like them,” ellie admits softly. “sometimes i get a little self-conscious because, y’know, everyone expects a nuclear family and...”

“i’d take this any day,” you assure her, and the true implication of your words is latent, but something hopeful pricks her tummy.

i’d take this any day...with you.

and locking eyes with you usually scares her, usually makes her queasy with nerves because there’s always something searing in your gaze, but it’s like you see each other for the first time, no barriers.

ellie’s so close she can feel the warmth of your body coiling and drawing her in. her breath’s caught in her throat as she chances a glance at your mouth and her own lips begin to tingle.

she’s on the brink of asking if she can kiss you, but the back door is sliding open and two familiar faces are surfacing.

“williams!”

ellie’s daze melts away as she shifts to put distance between the two of you at the arrival of her friends.

“jess!” she calls. “dina!”

the moment clings heavy, but ellie writes it off. maybe she’s jumping the gun, reading too much into tender moments. it’s colored on your face, though, as she stands to meet her friends halfway, that the two of you are tethered and you feel it too.

ellie’s friends are another reflection of her character. they take you under their wings in the days leading up to the holiday with jesse teaching you to ride his minibike and dina telling you stories of their childhood while excitedly painting your nails pretty shades of autumnal colors because both jesse and ellie vehemently decline.

joel graciously relinquishes his kitchen to the four of you the day before thanksgiving. lets you guys gather around and bake an array of different desserts for tomorrow’s dinner over a few beers and winecoolers.

perhaps ellie’s a lightweight, you come to find, when she’s a lot more giggly and rosy-cheeked than she’d ever let anyone see. she’s feeling a little bubbly and you definitely don’t help the fact when you gaze upon her so fondly as you smear away the streaks of flour across her cheek.

jesse and dina are merely observers, watching with knowing grins as ellie practically melts against your touch.

and as the desserts cool on the kitchen island and the two of see jesse and dina out, ellie can’t keep her hazy eyes off of you. the two of you vote on a movie and she’s taking her usual seat in the right corner of the couch. it starts out with the two of you on opposite ends, but as the film plays, the space between you and ellie diminishes and she swears you can hear the way her heart’s pounding behind her ribcage with your ear pressed to her chest.

it’s uncharted territory considering ellie’s never been big on physical touch and she can’t even be sure that there's anything there, but you have to know. ellie’d mentioned past girlfriends, wasn’t really subtle when it came to wandering eyes on campus, hell, she’d even—

suddenly your arm’s tightening around the narrow of her waist and you’re nestling impossibly closer and christ, ellie can’t help herself when the coarse pads of her fingertips brush your jaw to catch your attention.

your gaze is illuminated by pixels and there’s a hitch in your breathing as you search her features for any hesitation. it’s long gone, you find, when ellie’s mouth is slotting yours, lips warm and tongue still flavored with sparkling wine.

ellie kisses like you’re air and she needs you to breathe. it’s almost embarrassing, way her body reacts to your proximity, how hot she us under the collar and achey as you move to straddle her. her fingertips are skimming down your spine, past the small of your back to take a—

your teeth sinking in the plump of her bottom lip and the way your soft palms find purchase against the rigid expanse of her tattooed abdomen is sobering. has her bony fingers cupping the flesh of your jaw.

“wait, wait,” she whispers, chest heaving and breaths shallow as she looks up at you.

the dust is starting to settle and you take in ellie’s kiss-bitten lips, swollen and slick. her pupils are blown wide, sweater riding up to reveal reddened flesh like you’ve branded her. you lean back.

“fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i’m so sorry.”

ellie’s mouth is drying.

“why are you sorry?” she whispers.

you seem to chew on your words, eyes teary and expression scared.

“why are you sorry?” ellie repeats, not caring enough to mask the hitch in her voice as she pries.

“you’re always so fucking good to me, ellie,” you whimper. “you’re a great roommate and an even better friend and—”

ellie blows out a deep sigh, falls slack against the cushions as she levels you with an indiscernible look in her eye.

“don’t do that,” she breathes.

“ellie.”

“c’mon, you know me better than that,” she says, tone tinged with annoyance. “you don’t have to let me down easy. you can be honest.”

and color you confused because how couldn’t she fathom that you’ve fallen and head first at that? she’s reading it all wrong, you realize, when defeat shutters over her pretty face.

“i—”

the floorboards outside the den creak and ellie’s pushing you off just as the door squeaks open to reveal joel’s aging face.

he reads the room a moment, decides to blow by the sheen in your eyes and ellie’s rigid posture.

“tommy and maria are leaving, kiddo,” he says. “if you wanna say bye.”

ellie nods, stands and leaves you in the television-illuminated room.

you realize she won’t come back for you when the telltale sound of the front door closes and the stairs seem to groan under her weight.

it’s half past two in the morning when you slip from the den, glass of water condensating on a coaster as you try to collect yourself on the screened-in deck out back.

the icy chill stings your lungs, makes you gulp in breath after breath. the night’s starting to dawn you, the gravity of the situation overwhelming you enough to choke.

“fuck,” you whisper, that familiar feeling of dread squeezing your chest.

meanwhile, ellie can’t sleep. has been staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom for the past two and a half hours. you’re all she can think of. pliant curves of your body settling over hers to fit like you two were made for each other, the smell of your subtle perfume, the taste of your mouth.

and she wants to be annoyed, angry at the fact, but she’d brought you all the way here, extricated you from your comfort zone and showed you parts of her she wouldn’t dream of revealing to anyone else.

she recalls the resignation in your tone on the drive up, how you’d divulged the dysfunction of your family and the troubles you carried with you as a result. it’d be your first holiday with someone other than yourself for a while and she’d be damned if it soured because she couldn’t push her feelings aside.

the tv’s off and the blanket’s folded when she musters up enough courage to enter the den again, heart sinking to her ass when she slides back into the kitchen and finds that the sliding door to the back deck is cracked ever so slightly.

she’s seen you in a lot of ways these past eleven-odd months she’s known you, but she’s never seen you like this, hands over your heart and chest heaving like you’re trying to ground yourself.

when your watery gaze swings to her, ellie’s melting, cushion sinking as she settles next to you.

“sorry,” you whisper shakily. “i don’t—”

ellie’s shifting to face you, arms winding around your shoulders as one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.

“let’s talk about it later,” ellie offers softly. “we can just go to bed for now and—”

“i really, really like you, ellie,” you say in one breath, and it has her body locking up, the audible catch of her inhale sounding near your ear.

“but?”

“no buts,” you admit. “just that i don’t want you to think that i kissed you because you’re being nice to me. well, i guess you’re always nice to me. it’s one of the reasons why i…”

and ellie doesn’t mean to tune you out, but you’re so fucking cute and so sweet and she shouldn’t have doubted you or herself because you’re hiccuping and shivering and—

you taste better the second time around. now ellie’s a little less unsure, still a little nervous because you’re the first girl to make her feel like this and she doesn’t want the bubble she’s built around the two of you in this corner of her little world to burst, but kissing you feels so right.

she’s dragging you back inside, past the den and up the stairs, and maybe the two of you do things you shouldn’t in her twin size bed in her childhood room when her dad’s only a few walls away, but she can’t help herself. not when you’ve always been an arm’s length away and she can finally have you.

it isn’t until the two of you lay under the dim glimmer of the glow-in-the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, her face pressed in your neck, that she says it.

“i really, really like you, too,” she whispers. “i realized i didn’t say it back.”

but it’s not like she needs to. you knew that already.

neng ©️2023

[steddie-island]

Heartache to heartache

Second prompt fill for week 1 of @steddiesmuttyseptember - Makeup sex WC: 1,771 | Rating: E | Tags: Makeup sex, financial insecurity anxiety AO3 Divider credit

It was Eddie's fault that he was laying in bed alone, and he was kicking himself for it.

Mostly his fault. Maybe.

He'd overreacted. Maybe.

Fuck. Steve still didn't realize Eddie didn't just have money to throw around. He'd scrimped and saved (and on a couple of occassions stole) for the things he had. The Munsons didn't just get shit handed to them unless it was bad. Sometimes they'd done shit to deserve it, sure, but sometimes they were just in the wrong goddamn place at the wrong goddamn time and life decided to make them pay.

Eddie had been ready to pay this time. It'd taken him months to save up the money to fix his van. Months of borrowing Wayne's truck, hitching rides from the band, from Steve when he was available. Months of cutting corners, buying the cheaper deodorant (his shampoo and conditioner couldn't really get any cheaper) and forgoing snacks he wanted, choosing instead to shove the pennies and the small bills into the coffee container hidden in the back of his underwear drawer.

When the day came for him to finally pay, when he could get his van (and his independence) back, he pulled up only to be told it'd been taken care of.

Just like that.

Eddie could've credited it to the government, to Hopper, to the generosity of the guys who ran the garage. One look at Steve and he had his answer.

"I wanted to surprise you," Steve said. His face had flushed, he'd run a hand nervously over the back of his neck, had turned on that goddamn smile that he knew melted Eddie's heart.

Not this time.

Eddie had been furious. Beyond, even.

He'd yanked the keys out of the mechanic's hand and stormed to his van, letting his quiet fury engulf him. How dare Steve take this away from him. How dare Steve make his months of scrimping be for nothing. How dare he throw that Harrington money around to try to solve Eddie's problems.

Eddie didn't explode until they were in the trailer together.

"Hey—"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie had asked. His hands shook with his anger, his frustration, with the desire to grab this stupid beautiful boy by the shoulders. "What the fuck, Steve?"

"I was helping," Steve said, clearly confused. "I just wanted to help—"

"No, you were just using Daddy's money to make problems go away again."

Steve had winced at that, but then he'd straightened his spine. "Yeah, I used my dad's money. So what? Why does it matter how it got paid for?"

Eddie had tipped his head back, laughed without any humor in his voice. "Right, what does it matter when pretty rich boys can just wave their fucking magic wand and throw their name around and make everyone do whatever the fuck they want."

"Last I checked I didn't have to do that with you. You just do it." Steve's eyes were steely, his jaw set.

"Fuck you, Harrington."

In his bedroom Eddie winced as the rest of the argument played out in his mind. He'd been fucking stupid and now he was sulking.

And Steve wasn't around for him to try to fix things.

"Motherfucker." The heels of his hands pressed into his eyes firmly, as if that would turn off the replying looping again and again. Every cruel thing he'd said that had brought the bitchiness out in Steve, too.

Eddie loved that bitchiness when it wasn't aimed at him. Hell, he'd liked the bitchiness even when Steve had been King Steve, when he was turning it on Tommy or Carol or Billy.

But now he couldn't even watch from the sidelines. He'd fucked it all up, had overreacted, and Steve was gone.

"Fuck this."

Eddie sat up and stuffed both feet into his combat boots. He had his jacket half on and a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth when he opened the front door—

"Oh—"

Steve stood there on the front porch, hand raised like he was poised to knock. His hair was a mess, the collar of his polo was wrinkled. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else but Eddie knew better.

"Steve." Eddie nearly dropped his cigarette. He grabbed it between his fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray by the door. "Uh— hey."

"Can I come in?" Steve asked.

Fuck. How long since he'd had to ask to come in? How long since he'd had to knock, and not just use the key Eddie had given him when they'd been together three months?

Eddie stepped back, opening the door wider so Steve could slip by him.

"Sorry if this is a bad time. I can come back—"

"I was coming to see you—"

They stopped at the same time. Eddie cleared his throat, pushed a hand through his frizzy curls.

"I'm sorry." Steve wasn't looking at him, was looking at a spot over Eddie's shoulder instead. "That's all I wanted to say. I should've checked with you and I didn't."

Eddie shook his head, and then he was pulling Steve into his arms. "Hey— I'm sorry. You were helping me out, and I just fucking lost it. I'm sorry, Steve."

"No, it's my fault—"

"It's my fault," Eddie said. "Fuck, you were doing something nice and I threw it back in your face."

"I was just thinking you already had to replace so much, I could do that for you," Steve continued. "It wasn't fucking fair, none of what happened was your fault. You didn't deserve any of that shit—"

"Stevie." Eddie caught Steve's face in his hands. "Baby, it wasn't your fault, either. It wasn't your problem to solve—"

"I know!" Steve shook his head. "I know. I'm sorry, I overstepped and I fucked up so bad, you have every right to be upset."

"Not the way I was." Eddie tipped Steve's face up towards him. "I had no right to yell at you the way I did."

"You did—"

"No. I didn't." Eddie rested his hands on either side of Steve's neck and rested their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

The tension leeched out of Steve's body, and he practically swayed towards Eddie. Eddie was happy to catch him, to help hold him up. Was happy to return the kiss Steve was pressing against his lips.

"I'm sorry," Steve breathed. Eddie just shook his head, went in for another kiss. His hands dropped from Steve's neck to trail down his body, to his thighs.

Physical therapy had at least given him this. Eddie lifted Steve into his arms and started for his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him, dropped Steve carefully to the bed before kneeling between his thighs.

Steve's eyes were dark and heavy. He tugged his own shirt off then sat up to help with Eddie's shirt, too.

"Fuck…" Eddie tangled a hand into Steve's hair as the other man nipped and bit carefully at his stomach. "Fucking love you."

Steve let out a soft sound, and then Eddie was on him, over him. There were more whispered apologies that were cut off as teeth dug into the skin of a throat, as hands pushed desperately at fabric until they were naked from the waist down, too.

Eddie had lost count of how many times they'd done this, but each time felt like the first. Steve always opened up so beautifully for him. Every moan and whine, the way those big hands gripped at Eddie's shoulders, then his hair when that was all he could reach because Eddie was using his tongue, too.

"Fuck, please—"

Eddie loved the way Steve begged, loved the way he arched towards the touches and used a heel to guide Eddie just where he wanted him.

When Eddie was sure he was open enough he moved over Steve again. "I love you," he whispered.

Steve's response was a moan, to dig his hands into Eddie's back as he was filled. "Eddie, fuck—"

Normally Eddie would make a joke, but it didn't feel like the moment to do that. Instead he threaded a hand with Steve's and brought it up over their heads before he started moving harder. Not fast, but hard, deep, in a rhythm that made Steve's body clench around him and brought out more of those beautiful sounds.

Eddie wanted to commit those sounds to memory. He wanted to record them for the nights they had to be apart, so he could play them on a loop and try to pretend Steve was right there with him.

"More," Steve urged. His voice was breathy, had the edge that Eddie had learned to know meant he was close.

"Love you," Eddie repeated. He drove home again and again. Steve's nails caught against his ass in encouragement. "Mine— mine—"

"Yours, Eddie, fuck don't stop—" Steve met each of Eddie's movements with desperate little rolls of his hips.

When he came it was with a cry, with those strong legs around Eddie's hips, holding him in place and keeping him inside. Eddie followed right after him, spilling deep into the clutch of Steve's body.

Eddie kissed at Steve's jaw as the sweat cooled on their skin. He still had their hands threaded together, was still buried in Steve's body— still had Steve's legs around him, locking him there for the time being.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said again.

"I love you." Steve kissed his hair, then his forehead. "I was afraid I messed up too bad, that I'd lost you for real."

"Never." Eddie kissed Steve's chest. "You'll never lose me, sunshine. No matter what happens."

There was a soft hitch in Steve's breathing. "That's not how it usually works for me."

"Maybe not. But it's how it works for us." Eddie rose up to kiss Steve. There was no heat behind it this time. He poured all of his love and affection and as much reassurance as he could into it, until he could feel Steve practically shaking with it.

"That okay?" Eddie murmured.

Steve sniffed softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm more than okay with that."

Eddie hid his face in Steve's neck again and breathed in the scent of salt and cologne. They would have to talk about it more later, talk about boundaries and the way to try to prevent something else like this happening. But for now Eddie was happy to just hold and be held by Steve. "Good. 'Cause I wasn't really asking."

"Guess I deserve that," Steve joked. His fingers came up to stroke through Eddie's hair gently.

Eddie found that he couldn't agree more.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Machinist 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible bullying, misogyny, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your new boss sets his sights on you. (short!reader)

Characters: August Walker

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You take your lunch where you always do; outside. You don’t like to sit inside all day, especially after sweating amid sparks flying from dozens of torches and grinding wheels and the like. The metals walls do little to let the heat out, so it is that you greet the sunshine and fresh breeze with a sigh. 

You find your way to your truck and unlock the back, climbing up to sit in the open bed as you unzip your lunchbox. You have your standard fare; some carrots, hummus, and a tuna sandwich. Nothing fancy or special. Just what you have time to throw together in the morning. 

You watch the distant skyline as you chew. Insects buzz in the air and you swat away a nosy fly. The smell of pollen underlines the lingering scent of singed metal and your own sweat. You enjoy the small moment to yourself, with the barely muffled noise of drills, wheels, and hollers all around. 

You dip your last carrot and close up the container of hummus. You wipe the lingering garlicky smear from your fingertips and zip away your leftovers and the used napkin. You push your head back to stretch your neck and loosen the stitch between your shoulders. 

“You’re prettier in the sunlight,” the rocky voice brings your chin back down. 

August approaches as you clutch your lunch box against your lap. You don’t know how to respond without putting your job in the balance, so you don’t. You push yourself to the edge of the truck bed but he’s quick. He’s right in front of you, close enough that you can’t jump down. 

“This your truck?” He muses as he gives it an emphatic look, “not too bad. Bit big for you, girl. Ah, but maybe you like handling big things.” 

His insinuation repulses you. He was rude before but now he’s just being gross. Doesn’t matter. Who are you gonna tell? Who’s going to care?

“Excuse me, my lunch is almost over,” you say as you teeter on the edge. 

“I’m sure the boss won’t mind,” he grins boastfully. 

“Really, I got a lot of work--” 

“I never heard about your promotion,” he intones. 

You stop short and bite back your words, “promotion?” 

“Right, you must’ve got one since you’re telling me what to do,” he challenges, crossing his arms to make himself even bigger. 

“I wasn’t. I’m trying to go back to work.” 

“I didn’t dismiss you,” he sneers. 

You ease back and nod. This isn’t the first time a man’s postured at you, it won’t be the last. You’ll let him get his rocks off. 

“Sure,” you nod. 

“Hmph,” he looks you up and down, “it always makes me wonder why women wander into metal shops. Really? You like being sweaty,” he steps even closer and you wince as he reaches and drags his thumb down your cheek, “dirty? I can think of better ways for that.” 

“Sir,” you say flatly. 

He trails his thumb down and presses on your bottom lip, “I’m new around here. Need someone to show me around. How about it?” 

You scowl and rip your mouth away from his hand, “you can’t be serious?” 

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?” He slowly pulls his arm back, crossing it once more across his chest, “what I know about this town is there’s no other fucking shop looking for tool and die, and let me tell you, princess, you’ll find they don’t pay pennies next to what I pay.” He brings a hand up to brush the short stubble darkening his jaw, “actually, we’re due for salary review. That’s what the finance officer tells me.” 

You understand his threat. Even if he doesn’t fire you, he can mess with your money. All the leering men, all their nasty words, wouldn’t be worth it if you didn’t get a half-decent cut. 

“Can your precious little head understand me?” His mouth slants in a half-smirk. 

“Not that difficult,” you hiss out.  

“Great, sounds like a plan, princess.” 

Before you can react, he steps forward. He grabs you by the waist and drags you forward on the open door of the truck bed. You yelp in surprise and bat his wrists, your lunch box bouncing out of your grasp onto the ground. He holds you to hover on the edge before he lowers you to the ground, crowding you. 

“Good girl,” he growls and squeezes before he lets you go. 

You struggle not to snarl outright. He takes a step back, not far enough. You turn your attention to your errant bag and bend to pick it up. 

“Mmm, I like that position,” he purrs. 

You snap up and tamp down your irritation. You wish you could say he’s the first man to be so disgusting but that would be a miracle. Especially in this line of work. He’s just the only one you can’t tell to go fuck himself. 

You face him, “can I go back to work?” 

“Mm, look at you, learning already; asking permission,” he clicks his tongue, “sure, go on, princess.” 

You hold back a shudder and turn to close the truck door. You toss your lunch bag over it. Whatever. 

You spin and stomp away, refusing to look back at him, even as you feel his gaze bearing down on you. You feel even more filthy than before. Not just because of his behaviour but your own weakness. You should say no, you should go work at the Pizza Hut, at least there, you can spit in the food of every ass who gives you lip. 

As you cross the yard towards the shop, you slow down. Your eyes meet those of Carey. He started at the same time as you. He asked you out. Several times. He glowers and narrows his eyes.

He looks at the other guys sat around him at the smokers’ table. They saw it. You know they did.

“All the fucking same, aren’t they?” He spits into the dirt as the other men look in your direction. “Cozying up to the boss to get a few extra bucks on her check.” He flicks his butt towards you as you near the door, “whatsa a matter, baby? You need some new panties? Oh, maybe you’re gonna buy a dress? Start dressing like a woman, huh?” 

The other guys chortle and you ignore them. They don’t matter. That’s the difference between them and August. He can actually ruin your life, they only wish they could. 

[allywthsr]

CHARITY STREAM | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando stream 24h for charity! Lots of gaming and chatting

wordcount: 1.8k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: tumblr wouldn’t let me post anything?? It’s late again!🥲

advent calendar

Lando and you started a new tradition this year.

This year you wanted to do a little charity stream during the holidays, where people could donate, and in the end, the money would go into different organizations. Shelters for homeless people, women’s shelters, and on your request, some animal shelters as well.

You two also donated twenty thousand pounds to kick things off, and you hoped people would give some of their money to a good cause, no matter how much money someone donates, every penny counts and is helping someone to survive. Especially during Christmas and the winter, it was harder for people that do not have a stable home to survive, eat, shower, or even go to the toilet. That was something, they didn’t always have access to, and that is why you and Lando decided to do this charity stream.

The stream is twenty-four hours long, a full day of streaming, mostly it will be Lando in front of the camera because the people want to see him, but you would join him. It’s going to start with some cookie baking, and then you go straight to the PC to play games, Fortnite, CoD, the Truck simulator, and the Santa simulator were already planned, just as a lot of talking to the chats and every hour you would explain and introduce one more shelter, you donate to.

And that’s where you were sitting right now, in front of the computer, next to Lando and the ring light behind his PC was providing you with light. Lando clicked on the start button, and the stream loaded, the first few hello’s and comments started rolling in.

”Hey guys, Y/N and I decided to do something new this year. Today we’re raising money for charity, not everyone is privileged enough to have a roof over their head, so we want to donate money to different organizations. Y/N and I are gonna stream for twenty-four hours, we’re playing different games, but first, we start with some cookie baking, I‘m going to switch you to the kitchen cam, and then we‘re going to cut out cookies.“

You prepared the cookie dough two hours ago and it sat in the fridge, waiting for you two to roll it out. Lando switched to the kitchen cam, and you two appeared behind the kitchen island, on the island there were many cookie cutters, flour, baking paper, and multiple rolling pins scattered. You opened the fridge and took the cookie dough on the counter, taking a piece of it and rolling it out with a rolling pin.

Lando started to press different cookie cutters into the dough.

”Chat, what do you think about my Santa?“

After a few seconds, comments came in complementing him, ”It’s not that hard baby, you used a cookie cutter.“

”She‘s always negative, chat, I don’t know why she’s even here.“

Obviously, he was joking, squeezing your hips shortly after he said that. The next half hour was spent cutting out the dough into small shapes with the cookie cutters and taking out baked cookies from the oven.

”Alright chat, we‘ll go over to the PC and play some games, maybe later we will go back to the kitchen and decorate them.“

You two sat at the PC and looked at the chat, reading some comments, donations were already coming in and Lando was thanking every single one of them. The count was already at two thousand of just viewer donations, some crazy people are out there and it astonished you. Now Lando sat in his gaming chair, while you sat in your chair and with your MacBook in front of you, Fortnite open and ready to play. You two were playing in duos and when the first game started, you two were freaking out. Lando wasn’t a pro, just like you aren’t, you were dying before you even picked up a gun and Lando wasn’t any better, stream snipers were making your life hard and you tried to play it for two hours but after not getting a win, it was time to stop playing that frustrating game.

You switched to just talking to the chat, by now twenty thousand people were watching, and they had a lot of questions. It wasn’t like you were in a new relationship with Lando, most of his fans only knew him with you on his side, you‘ve been with him since he started his Formula One career, but you retold your whole getting-to-know-each-other story. Ditching questions that had anything to do with marriage or kids, you both wanted to focus on life and your careers and touch that topic later in life, a lot of people didn’t get that, and had to spam the comments. So you decided to play the next game, the Santa simulator.

Lando started off with collecting presents for different children, having to decide if they get something good or just a piece of coal. Lucas was not focusing on school but more on his hobby, no Lando had to decide what he would get, because of Lando’s own school history, Lucas got a big new bike like he wished. Marie was always a good girl, cleaning up behind herself, a good student, and always on her best behavior. Because Lando thought she needed to be more rebellious, she got some coal, but a new pair of slippers too, so she wouldn’t feel to... sad. Next, he had to take care of the reindeers, brushing their fur and feeding them before putting them in front of the sleigh, the last thing that needed to be done was to deliver the presents. Lando had to fly through the sky and ditch multiple obstacles, landing safely on houses without getting noticed by anyone. The sliding down the chimney and laying the presents underneath the tree was the hardest part, he had to do it as quietly as possible, so he wouldn’t wake up any of the kids. In the end, most of the kids weren’t happy with their presents and he wasn’t quiet enough, the mission was failed, but you two had fun.

Six hours in and eighteen more to go, next Lando wanted to play CoD, you had an important phone call, so you couldn’t join or watch him, but after two hours of discussing things with your and Lando’s management, Lando was still playing it.

”This is the last round, baby“, he said as you sat down next to him on your chair. You pulled out your phone to check some reactions to the stream, so far people were loving it. When the clock hit the next full hour, it was time to announce the next sponsor, this hour you talked about the Red Cross, what they did, and how people could help outside of the stream.

While chatting about that, Lando got touchy and placed his hand on your cross-legged thigh, caressing it gently. Immediately comments about that came in and people were swooning over Lando’s need of physical attention.

”Chat, what should we play?“

Comments were saying Fortnite or the truck simulator, so you two chose the truck simulator, Lando and you hadn’t played that game since lockdown ended and you even got a little excited. You linked your MacBook with Lando’s game and now you could play together, fulfilling quests and pushing each other off the street. The room was filled with laughter and screams, as the others always pushed the truck off or doing everything they weren’t supposed to do, like hitting different cars or turning the wrong way.

After Lando shut off the game, it was hour ten and you two got hungry, in between the games you‘d already prepared some snacks, but you needed an actual dinner, so quickly you boiled some pasta and made a quick sauce. You brought it to Lando and you two made an unplanned asmr session, most of the people loved how you weirdly slowly chewed your pasta and when Lando smushed around the sauce, you couldn’t contain your laughter in between bites.

Lando had a Lego piece he wanted to build for quite some time, but he never did, so he got the package out and poured out all the bags. What you thought would take an hour, turned out to take four hours, Lando got confused at some steps and had to redo them, as you were focused on a different step. But you never thought it would take you so long, stretching your knuckles and fingers after you finished.

After talking to the chat, you reminded Lando of the cookies that were still untouched in the kitchen and he quickly switched to the kitchen cam, where he sat and waited for you to prepare the chocolates and sprinkles. Lando wasn’t the most patient man, so mostly the cookies got dipped in the chocolate and maybe some sprinkles were put on the chocolate. But most of them were eaten before they could be decorated anyway.

Next, you did the gingerbread house challenge, if you were in the kitchen anyway.

With only six hours to go, and the struggle to stay awake, you drank multiple beverages with caffeine. You played another round of Fortnite, joined by Max F. and you even won one round, mostly because you got carried by someone, but the end result mattered.

Going in the last three hours, a lot of chatting and watching YouTube videos was done, compilations of Y/N and Lando being cute or the latest unboxed. In the end you raised over forty thousand pounds, saying goodbye to the chat when the twenty four hour mark was crossed. Lando ended the stream and you let out a big sigh, finally you didn’t have thousand of eyes on you anymore, with a stretch, you linked Lando’s and your hand together and pulled him to the bed, ready for a big nap.

[howlingday]

RWBY Kidnapped

Pyrrha: You're gonna untie and then you're gonna let me go. That is not up for discussion.

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Penny: Um, I don't really feel comfortable with you sitting so close to me, so could you sit in the front of the vehicle?

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Yang: Could you loosen these ropes a little bit~?

Yang: I SAID, COULD YOU LOOSEN THESE ROPES?!

Yang: Alright. That does it. Jumping out of the van!

Yang: (Jumps)

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Kidnapper: This is the last time I'm gonna tell you to shut up!

Weiss: (Gasps) No. I don't wanna shut up! Kill me if you must, but that lien bill you took out of my pocket? That's mine!

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Nora: Where are we going? I'm hungry! Keep driving! Stop driving! Oh, wait, hang on! I gotta pee again!

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Ruby: You said this was an ice cream truck. Where's the ice cream? I'm suspicious now!

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Blake: Can I be the kidnapper now, because this kidnapping was a one out of five stars.

Blake: Oh, so you're pointing the gun at me because I'm right? Is that it?

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Ren: I am not getting in that van. That is disgusting. Kill me and chop up my body if you must, but do not put me in the dirt. Put me in some disinfected water.

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Jaune: I have been here for 3 years. 3 years ago, you hit my head on the roof of the van and I'm STILL mad at you about it!

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Kidnapper: Just tell us where the money is!

Oscar: No, and I'm gonna take that secret to my grave!

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Emerald: For the past three minutes I've been in this van, you kidnappers smell like sweaty, saggy balls in 90-degree heat. No filter.

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Kidnapper: I told you to stop talking or I'll kill you!

Mercury: I tOlD yOu To StOp TaLkInG oR i'M gOnNa KiLl YoU~!

Mercury: You see how stupid you sound?

[dannys-dream]

Invisible String - Jake Kiszka x f! Reader - Chaper One - Series

You’re just a small town girl who always had big dreams of living in Nashville. You hoped your music would get you out of your hometown, and your dreams were finally coming true. You knew you had your best friend, your music, and a new guitar to take you through the new life ahead of you. What you didn’t know was what and who this new adventure would bring you. Used to beach town life, could you adjust to the big city and the big names attached to it? 

Warnings : None this chapter :)

Authors Note : This is something I’ve had in the works for a little while now. I hope you enjoy this series. Please let me know if you have any suggestions, or if you’d like to be added to a tag list! <3

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・

You couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After years of coffee shop shows, bar performances, and the occasional birthday party or wedding, you were finally moving to Nashville. A dream since you were just a kid, stuck in a small beach town tucked away in the outskirts of Washington. You’d saved every penny from your gigs, giving guitar lessons to the neighborhood kids, and everything you could spare from your 9-5 paychecks. You checked your bank account religiously, waiting for the day you’d finally saved enough. All you needed was a few months rent, and the money to put gas in the U-Haul, yours and Cam’s home for the 36 hour drive. 

Cam had been your best friend since middle school. An absolute force to be reckoned with at your dodgy little public schools. You trusted her with your life, and believe me when I say there were plenty of times you’d gotten in enough trouble to prove you could. The day you told her you’d started saving to move, she started saving too. She told you that you'd have a piece of home with you down in the south, and she couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing you all the time. You thanked God every day since. You couldn’t imagine not living side by side with her either. So the two of you packed everything you owned into a little U-Haul, and drove away from the only place you’d ever known. Away from your families and friends who all waved and cheered you on as you pulled out of the driveway. 

“I can’t stop laughing, oh my god y/n. I can’t breathe. Why were they waving us off like it’s the ancient times and we’re setting sail on the Titanic or something?” She was cackling in the passenger seat, resting one hand on her stomach as she fanned herself with the other.

“Camille, be nice. They just love us.” A chuckle leaving your mouth as you merge onto the highway. You slide your phone to Cam across the bench seat and tell her your passcode. “Put our playlist on. I’m not driving all day without music, you freak.” You roll the windows down and step on the gas as Journey begins to spill from the speakers. 

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・゜✭・・✫

Day three of driving, your last day. The two of you had fought about pretty much everything, music, who was driving, what hotel or motel you’d sleep in, what was for lunch or dinner. There were good times too, though. Sightseeing, weird rest stops, having to pull over on the highway so Cam could pee because she absolutely couldn’t hold it in until the next bathroom (something you’d be sure to tease her about for the rest of your lives). None of that seemed to matter when the U-Haul was finally parked in your new driveway. A small 2 bedroom brick home stared back at you as you started unloading your things, the emerald green door waiting for your keys. 

“Hey C, I think we should unpack everything and then I can go return the U-Haul. I wanna get it over with sooner rather than later.” Yelling across the lawn, she agreed. You quickly passed boxes to her, not that there were too many in the truck. Finally empty, you and Camille headed inside to start unpacking boxes. You got your room set up enough to sleep in tonight, and told Cam you were headed out to return the U-Haul. You pulled out of the driveway, your favorite song playing as you turned out of the neighborhood, that is until your phone started ringing. Oh great, it’s your mother. 

“Hi momma, we just got to the house! We’re finally home.” Your mother was so excited for you to get out of Washington, even if it meant being almost across the country from her. 

“Hi baby! I’m so glad you girls made it safe. I just wanted to call because I have a gift for you.” Your mom couldn’t help but let out a choked sob. “You worked so hard to get out there, you saved so much money. Your dad and I wanted to get you something special.” 

“Mom, you’ve got me worried. Why’re you crying?” 

“Nothing wrong, y/n. We saved up some money for you to get a new guitar. A special one for your new life, in your new town. I just transferred you the money, my love.” 

“We’ve never been more proud to be your parents.” Your dad chimed in, the pride and sadness of your move evident in his voice.

Tears streamed down your face as you thanked them, and promised to send pictures when you picked out your new guitar. You wrapped up the phone call, thanking her once more, right as you pulled into the U-Haul parking lot. You paid for your rental, and called an Uber, deciding to have it take you to a small local guitar shop. Ramblr’s Music. Repairs, sales, lessons. On top of getting a new guitar, who knows. Maybe you could score a job there. 

A silver Honda pulled up next to you, and confirmed they were your Uber. As you slid into the backseat, you heard the music. A major guitar solo was playing, and it was stunning . Leaning forward and squinting your eyes you could see what it was. Greta Van Fleet. You made a mental note to check them out later, and made small talk with the Uber driver until you found yourself walking up to the little music shop. You’d barely been in Nashville five hours, and your life would already never be the same.

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭

You’d been perusing the guitars for over an hour, but none of them felt right. You knew they were fine instruments, they just weren’t your dream guitar. They weren’t a vintage Les Paul SG. You’d wanted one for years, since you’d taken your music seriously. The shape, the sound. Something so classic and beautiful that the modern re-releases just couldn’t quite compare to. Fully knowing it was out of your budget, you decided to ask someone anyway. You found yourself walking toward the desk, a short kid maybe 17 standing there on his phone. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking around and I don’t see what I was hoping to find. Do you maybe have any Les Paul SG’s?  Maybe one in the back, or do you know where I could find one? I’m new in town and don’t really know where to look.” You let out a small laugh, immediately feeling out of your element. 

“Actually, yeah. We’ve got one in the back that I guess has been on hold or something but it’s been weeks and the guy never came to get it. It’s in a case and everything, too. Let me go get it.” Popping his gum as he walked away, your heart was pounding. Were you actually about to buy your dream guitar? Something about Nashville was proving to be magical. 

He came back, a busted black leather hard case in hand. “Here, look it over. I think it's a ‘61 but I could be wrong. Just started working here last week.” The clasps clanked as you pulled them up and off, finally lifting the lid to the case. There she was. A beautiful cherry stain on the wood, new strings and a crack down the bottom half of the guitar, only adding personality and proof the instrument was well loved prior to you.  You carried the guitar over to an amp, plugging it in and sitting on the stool. You wrestled to figure out what song to play, finally deciding on one of the songs you’d put time into learning. Nothing Else Matters, your fathers favorite Metallica song. You’d spent hours learning to play it for him, and could remember the tears in his eyes when you finally showed him. A fond memory you now shared with your dream guitar. God, it played like perfection. You knew there was no way you’d walk out of this store without the cherry red beast. 

You walked back to the counter and safely secured the guitar into the case after taking a photo. The new kid checked you out, enabling a purchase you probably shouldn’t have made. You ordered an Uber, and slipped into the backseat with your new baby. 

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭

Jakes POV

Tour had been beyond exhausting. You loved playing, you loved the fans, you loved seeing the different states and countries. The only thing you loved more? Being at home, in bed with some popcorn and whiskey, watching a documentary on pirates. Especially on a fine Wednesday night such as this. Finally rolling out of bed for the first time in hours, your slippers pull you down the stairs and into the kitchen in search of food more filling than the snacks upstairs. Regrettably, you hadn’t gone grocery shopping in some time, simply surviving on what was left in your pantry before you left on tour. A groan leaves your chest as you trudge back upstairs. Slipping on your favorite blue jeans and a button up, you find your car keys and make your way to the jeep sitting in your garage. You decided that while you were out, you might as well run the rest of the errands you’d been neglecting in lieu of alone time. 

Your favorite playlist queued, and sunglasses pressed to your face, you pulled out of the garage and headed off to Ramblr’s. Your beloved guitar had taken far too much of a beating this last leg, and a crack appeared down the body. You had held her together for the last few shows using some electrical tape, the best thing you could get your hands on while on the road. On the way home from the airport, you dropped your guitar off to be repaired, only trusting Scott, the store owner, to repair your precious cargo. You rolled your car windows up, and hit your vape one last time before getting out and heading to the building. The second the shop doors opened, an uneasy feeling washed over you as the sounds of Scott screaming at some teenager filled your ears. 

“Are you fucking stupid, or are you dumb Jeremy? No, you know what you are? Fucking fired. Get out of my shop!” Scott pushed over a small display of guitar straps and stomped off, leaving who you assumed was Jeremy in a crumpled sobbing mess on the floor. You walked over to him, and crouched down. 

“Hey, Jeremy. Whatever’s going on, it’ll be okay. I’m Jake, and I’ve known Scott a real long time. I’m sure he’s just having a rough day. Let me go talk to him.” 

Jeremy looked back at you in horror, and pushed himself away. “I’m so sorry sir. I’m so sorry.” He picked himself off of the floor, and bolted outside, not even bothering to collect his personal items or clock off. You weren’t sure what happened, but you knew it couldn’t be good. 

You made your way to the back, where Scott’s office was and tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for whatever shit storm he was about to drop on you. You cleared your throat, and Scott’s eyes shot up to meet yours. His appearance disheveled, and tears of frustration threatened to fall down his face. 

“Ah, shit. Hey kid. Come in, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk. You shuffled over, and pulled the chair out before sinking into the plush cushion. He avoided eye contact with you, which was very unusual. You also noted him picking at his nails, something he did when stressed. 

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to bite the bullet. “Give it to me straight, Scotty. What the hell is going on?” 

His head dropped in shame, and he took a deep breath before shakily answering you. “Jake, that stupid new kid. He sold your guitar.”

Your blood ran cold, and suddenly all you saw was red. “Scott you’re fucking joking, right? Don’t fuck with me. Bring me my guitar.” 

He shoved the paperwork towards you, all of it showing the colossal fuckup Jeremy had made. “I wish it was a joke, Jake. But the kid sold her off to some girl who came in a few hours ago. I don't even know how he screwed this up so bad.”

You ran a hand through your hair, and sighed. “Make me a copy of this. I’m gonna go find her.”

”I already tried the number Jake. She wont pick up.”

You stood from the chair and looked down at him. “Scott, just make me a damn copy.”

He left the room, and came back with the papers for you and continued to apologize profusely as you walked out of the store. The rain soaked your clothes as you walked to the car, your breath visible in the cold weather. 

The paperwork told you basically nothing. Just her name, and an out of state phone number. The kid didn’t even fully fill out the sale paperwork, leaving the address and email slots bare. You got in the car, phone number in hand and hoped and prayed that she hadn’t left town. That guitar was your prized possession, the best gift you’d ever received. You’d been beyond floored when the Chicago Music Exchange let you have it, free of charge. And now, you had no idea where she was. 

You took a shaky breath, and dialed the number. It didn’t even ring. You’d immediately been sent to voicemail, and the default one at that. You brought your hands to your face, and rubbed your eyes. How could Scott let this happen?

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・

End of first chapter <3

TAGLIST : @hollyco @literal-dead-leaf @anythingforjtk @do-it-jakey-baby @eternal-life94

[destiny-smasher]

(plus bonus alt pose for Nemona when it was WIP)

The Area Zero Crew, redesigned after a timeskip for my postgame fanfic, Operation Comet Punch. Featuring Scarlet Koito, reimagined from the PokeSpe manga a the 'player protag.' Redesigns by me, artwork was fantastically done by VORP4LDANCE! Twitter cross post is here.

Little rundown: Arven's studying to be a master chef and for now is saving for chef school by working his own food truck! Letty is a Paldean Champion who's a globe-hopping freelancer, running mercenary work, guarding duty, and... less savory business as needed... Penny is the lead software engineer for the Paldean League, and is madly in love with Nemona, savoring getting to raise her Veevee babies with her girlfriend. And Champion Nemona, the story's most 'lead' character, is cutting ties with her family's money to prove to herself she doesn't need their priviliege to succeed -- after years of studying directly under Bea of Galar (and Professor Dendra), she's become a capable fighter with her own two bare fists, and in tandem with her Pokemon! As the newly appointed Chief of Security of the Paldean League, she's got a hefty weight on her shoulders... but is wild about her girlfriend, Penny, who helps lighten that load off her mind, and distract her from her very uncertain future... You can check out the recently started fic here if you want!

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

I blame @werewolfarthurmorganenjoyer for this but all of you modern Arthur fanfiction writers are wrong ARTHUR MORGAN IS A TRUCK DRIVER.

And I am saying long distance truck driver I mean gone for days, weeks, driving through states back and forth, living on the road. He keeps doing it because he brings in a lot of money (need for the gang - which in modern au is Dutch's and Hosea's foster family but they themselves call it their gang (also because Dutch and others still get involved in shady shit)).

He is always on the road, his truck is his bestfriend, and on his drives he has run ins with people who he helps. That woman scared about her old father living in a different state? Arthur stops there while on his mandatory break to check on him. The broke young man who got kicked out his house and needs a ride? He picks him up of the side of the road and listens to him talk. The gay couple running from home who jist need to get to the city to take a train and are counting pennies in the roadside bistro? He is driving them there and telling them to always stay by their side. He helps a guy fix his truck. He saves a wild deer stuck on the road. He sends the cash home to make sure Tilly stays in college, Jack is able to stay in the better kindergarten, and Hosea doesn't have to work full-time.

When does all that change? When he meets the daughter of the truck-company owner, who just started working in the office :DD

[twohearts-hs]

Always & Forever Seventeen - Marshall Mathers x Reader Series

Words: 5.1k

Pairings: Marshall Mathers x Fem!Reader Series

Synopsis: They loved each other with every fibre and being. They knew that they were meant to be together, but it seemed like every obstacle came in the way. She was twenty-one, he was forty and they knew that it would be hard. Therefore, they promised forever and always as they were meant to be together despite every turmoil that came their way.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, Smut, Arguments & Angst.

|| Masterlist for Series ||

Hope you enjoy :)

June 2013

Ree stood behind Y/N, hairbrush in hand as she brushed her daughter’s hair. Today was the day…Y/N was graduating. She had her dress picked out, a pink babydoll dress while her mother began to curl her hair. She was going to wear her converses while she walked the stage. It was all perfect.

The sun was shining brightly that day. No cloud in sight. It was all so perfect.

“You’re so pretty,” her mom hummed, kissing her cheek as Y/N went to the closet to pull her dress out. It was beautiful and cost a pretty penny, however it was worth it for today.

Everything was working out. Marshall and Y/N had been so happy. Their relationship had been the best it had ever been. They did not bring up Columbia much as they decided to focus on their relationship and making it worth while. It was good. They were good. However, as the months went by, they knew they were getting closer to Y/N leaving.

Y/N changed when there was a knock on the door. Marshall and his daughters walked in all dolled up themselves. Marshall was “dressed” up in the most Marshall way and the girls all adorned dresses.

“Hey,” she said walking over to them and kissing her boyfriend before hugging the girls.

“Congratulations!” Hailie said. “In four years I will be here too.”

“It will go by so fast, Hay,” she hummed, kissing her cheek.

Marshall pocketed his hands as he looked at his girlfriend. “You look gorgeous,” he stated.

“Doesn’t she?” Ree exclaimed coming out of the bathroom. “She needs to get dressed up more.”

Y/N chuckled. “I don’t really go to that many fancy events,” Y/N explained as she walked off to find her shoes and to put earrings in while walking around the boxes.

She was starting to pack as she was going back to Canada for a few weeks at the end of the month before coming back to finish packing to go to New York City. Marshall was not a fan of her leaving for three weeks before she went to New York, however, he knew he could not even fight it.

It had also been a year since they met. Which ended in a night of celebratory sex that went to the early morning.

“You’re almost done packing,” Alaina said as Y/N emerged.

“Yeah. I am almost done then I will put it in a moving truck and send it to NYC,” Y/N said. “My new apartment is so small though.”

Y/N went to New York City last month with Marshall. He had some work things to do there, and she needed to go apartment shopping, therefore, they went together.

“How small?”

“Like five hundred square feet for a ridiculous amount of money,” she stated as she found her shoes.

“Don’t forget your gown and cap,” Ree said handing it to her. Y/N took it and threw it on before grabbing her handbag. Marshall smiled wide at her.

“You look amazing,” he stated. “You’re graduated.”

Y/N chuckled. “I know,” she said with bewilderment. “I have a useless degree in art history,” she chuckled. “Now I get to figure out what to do with it.”

They chuckled.

“Ok, we are going to be late, and someone needs to walk the stage,” Ree said as she hurried them off to the door.

-

The University of Michigan campus was beautiful that day. The sun shined bright casting. A golden glow on the gathering crowd. Today was the day that Y/N had been working towards for years – her graduation. She stood in her cap and gown, a mixture of pride and excitement bubbling within her.

In the audience, Ree her mother sat beside Marshall and his daughters. Ree’s eyes were misty with tears, a proud smile on her face as she looked over at her daughter. Marshall, in a rare moment of public appearance, seemed relaxed, his usual guarded demeanour softened by the joy of the occasion. His daughters chatted excitedly, their faces lighting up with anticipation.

As the ceremony began, Y/N’s heart pounded with excitement. She spotted her loved ones in the crowd, giving her the courage she needed to walk across the stage. One by one, the names were called, and degrees were handed out. Finally, it was her turn.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” the announcer called.

With a deep breath, she stepped forward, crossing the stage with her head held high. The applause from her family and friends was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. She shook hands with the dean, accepting her degree with a wide smile.

As she walked off the stage, she spotted Dr. Beau, her favourite professor and mentor, waiting for her. He greeted her with a warm hug. “Congratulations, Y/N! You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“Thank you, Dr. Beau,” she replied her voice filled with emotion. “I couldn’t have done it without your support.”

“Nonsense,” he said with a grin. “You have all the talent and determination. Columbia is lucky to have you. I’m excited to see what you’ll achieve there.”

They chatted for a few minutes before Y/N rejoined her family. Ree enveloped her in a tight hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” she whispered. “You’ve come so far.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Y/N said, her voice choked with emotion. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Marshall stepped forward, a proud smile on his face. “You did it, doll,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

Y/N went on her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, baby,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing another kiss. “I did it!”

He chuckled and nodded. “You sure did. Here comes Columbia,” he whispered against her ear.

Hailie, Alaina and Stevie surrounded her, their excitement infectious. They gave her their congratulations as they hugged one another. Marshall watched, seeing his family and girl all happy. It was good. Life was good.

“Thanks, girls,” she hummed.

They took countless photos, capturing the happiness of the day. Ree insisted on getting a picture of just Y/N and Marshall then one with the whole group. Marshall handed her a bouquet of her favourite flowers. The smiles and laughter filled the air, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

As the ceremony wound down, they decided to head back to Marshall’s for a party. The spacious living room had been transformed into a festive space, complete with decorations, food and a playlist of upbeat music. Marshall even bought champagne for the ceremony.

Meira joined. It was her graduation as well.

Y/N stepped into the house and was greeted by a burst of cheers and applause. Her friends and family had gathered to continue the celebration, and the atmosphere was filled with joy and excitement.

“Meira!” she exclaimed, hugging her best friend and rocking back and forth, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Let’s get this party started.”

Marshall’s daughters mingled with the guests, their laughter echoing through the house. Ree was chatting with some of Y/N’s friends, a glass of wine in her hand and proud smile on her face. Marshall stood by the buffet, looking relaxed and happy as he talked to Dr. Beau, who also joined the celebration.

As Y/N made her way through the crowd, she could not help but feel a sense of overwhelming gratitude. She had come so far, and seeing everyone she loved gathered to celebrate her achievements was a moment she would never forget.

Marshall caught her eye and beckoned her over. “Come here, Y/N,” he said, holding a glass of champagne. “We need to toast to your success.”

Everyone gathered around, raising their glasses in a toast. Marshall cleared his throat, a rare look of emotion in his eyes. “To Y/N,” he began, his voice steady. “You have worked incredibly hard to get to this point, and we are all so proud of you. Your dedication, talent, and spirit are truly inspiring. Here’s to your bright future at Columbia and beyond. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” everyone echoed, clinking their glasses together.

Marshall tilted the glass to her, making her drink. She chugged the whole thing before throwing her head back in laughter. “Come here.” Their lips connected and she smiled rocking them back and forth. “God, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he whispered, kissing her again. “We can get through anything.”

“We can.”

Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes as she raised her glass for him to pour more. “Don’t drink too much. I want you naked in my bed tonight,” he whispered, “ready for me to love you.”

She leaned into him. “What are you going to do?”

“Praise you in every way possible,” he hummed, kissing her cheek.

The party continued with music, dancing, and laughter filling the room. Y/N and Meira caught up, reminiscing about their college days and dreaming about the future. Marshall and Ree shared stores and laughed together, a sense of camaraderie forming between them.

As the night went on, Y/N found herself on the back patio craving a cigarette. She stopped smoking when she found out she was pregnant, but never picked it up again as Marshall said it was gross. However, staring ahead, she sat down and watched the stars with a flute of champagne in front of her. Marshall came out, joining her beside her.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"It is. Almost as pretty as you,” he whispered back, kissing the side of her head.

“Could you believe like a year ago, you ran into me making me smash hundreds of dollars of champagne? Then you walked into the diner.”

“Then you came into my studio…” he responded. “We’re fate, baby,” he cooed.

“What are we going to do about us when I go to Columbia?” Y/N asked.

“What do you want?” he responded, flicking a strand of hair from her face. His tone serious

“Honestly,” she said and looked at him. Then she took a deep breath. What did she want? They had not talked about logistics yet. Just small conversation. She paused for a moment, gathered her thoughts before saying, “I think,” she tried to find the words, “I think we should take a break.”

Did he hear her correctly? A break? Like they end…they end and what?

“What?” he said bewildered.

“I need to focus on my masters. I am going to be travelling and following Dr. Beau’s research. Then Geneva wants me to work at her gallery. I am going to have so many opportunities-“

“You won’t have time for me,” he finished. “I get it.” Marshall was hurt. Hurt did not even define it. He was devastated. “I thought we were going to do long distance?”

“Marshall, we can still talk-“

“But we can sleep with other people. Y/N, the idea of you sleeping with other people-“

“Marshall, what do you want? Do you want to visit me constantly? You have an album coming out and a tour. Then interviews and promotion.” He nodded. She was right. “Marshall, you don’t think you understand how special you are to me. You’re my favourite person. My favourite person to look at, to listen to, to talk to, to be with, you’re my favourite person to miss, to love, to be everything, you’re my everything. I want to give you everything I have. I want to share my life with you. To make more lives with you, cute little babies. I want to make memories with you so I can look back in 50 years and be sure I haven’t missed out on anything because all I wanted is you.”

He nodded.

“Marshall, we’re always and forever, ok?” she said, cupping his cheek.

He shook his head. “No, he said, you and I are always almost. Again, and again. We were always on the verge of always, but we are just almost. Never nothing but something.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I think if you want a break, I want no contact,” he said. “I can’t have you slightly or just a little. I can’t wait for your call or to think what you are doing behind my back. If you want us to end. We end.”

“Then what, Marshall?”

“We see where the future takes us. Y/N you’re right, your career comes first. You’re twenty-two now. You’re so young. I am turning forty-one. My life has hit its peak, its time for you too.”

“I must have loved you in other lives because when I see you it feels like coming home, no one makes me feel more myself than you. When my hand is in yours its familiar and safe, like I’ve known your soul since the beginning of time, through all the lives I’ve lived. Maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.”

He nodded. “Spend one night with me tonight and I will show you how much I love you, but tomorrow, you walk out my door and we don’t talk again until fate decides. Three times to meet the first round. We will meet again,” he stated, kissing her lips. “I love you, always.”

“Thank you for the love. For the memories. For the lessons in this lifetime, Marshall,” she said. Leaning her head on his shoulder. “You will always have my heart.”

The weight of their conversation settled over them, mingling with the cool night air. Y/N closed her eyes, savouring the feel of Marshall’s presence beside her, the warmth of his shoulder against her cheek. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him, wanting to etch his moment into her memory forever.

“I’ll always be grateful for you, Marshall,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. You’ve taught me so much about love, about strength, about being true to myself.”

Marshall tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And you’ve shown me what it means to believe in someone, to fight for love even when it’s hard. You’re going to do an amazing thing, Y/N. I just know it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the party inside drifting out to them, a distant hum of celebration. Y/N felt a tear slide down her cheek, but she did not wipe it away. It felt right to let it fall, a small token of love and pain entwined in this moment.

“I’ll miss you every day,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I know this is what I need to do. For both of us.”

Marshall nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I will miss you too, more than you can imagine. But I’ll be rooting for you from afar, always.”

They stood up, and Marshall took her hand leading her back inside. The party was still in full swing, laughter and music filling the air. Y/N plastered on a brave smile, determined to enjoy these last few hours with the people she loved.

-

The night ended and Marshall pulled her aside one last time. “Come with me,” he said, a hint of urgency in his voice.

He led her upstairs to his bedroom, the place where they have shared so many intimate moments. “I want to make this night unforgettable, but first I got you a present,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

Y/N sat on the bed as he came out with a black bag with tissue paper coming out of it. He sat next to her, as he unwrapped it. He took Y/N’s hand and squeezed it.

“It has my initials engraved on it,” he said as he handed her the box.

In cursive the brand Cartier was clear as day. Her hand went over her mouth as she opened the box. A bangle with diamonds but on the inside his initials were engraved. He had to spend over twenty grand on this…she could not believe it. She held it in her hand, feeling the metal and smiling to herself.

“I love it,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

“Here,” he said taking it and unclasping it before putting it on her wrist. It matched her skin tone so well, the diamonds shining so bright. “I love you. Forever and always.”

-

The door closed and Y/N spotted her boyfriend standing with his back to the door. He seemed secretive, standing there with a smirk on his face and his eyes darkening. He pressed his finger to his lip, shushing her.

“It is just you and me,” he whispered sultry. “You and me…and this whole night ahead of us.”

Y/N swallowed hard, sitting in her cotton panties and a tank top, her nipple poking through. “What are you going to do to me, M?” she softly said with a sexy hint.

Marshall pushed away from the door, instantly removing his shirt and throwing it behind him. His hands pressed against her thigh as he leaned down. “I am going to make you forget your name however,” he teased toying with the words. “You will remember mine. It will be the only thing you can remember. My name knowing you’re mine,” he growled, kissing her lips, pressing hard and with might. “Mine and mine only,” he cooed. “To love, to hold,” he teased, “to fuck, adore, destroy, and pain.” Then he pulled away. “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer” he teased.

She instantly knew what he was doing… He was reciting marriage vows. Y/N swallowed hard, cupping his cheek.

“In sickness, in health, in leaving for New York, to loving other men, fucking them too,” he barked now. “Till death do us part.”

Y/N took a deep breath. They were ending. Tonight, they were ending. Tomorrow she would walk out of that door as a single woman. Marshall was reciting his vows to her. She realised. Even if they were slightly his own, she knew what he was saying.

“Vows,” he stated. “Your turn.”

Deep breath…one, two, three. “Marshall-“

“No. Try again.”

“I will be yours. Yours only. To love, to hold, to fuck, de-“

“No. No destroying me or putting me in pain because you’re the selfish bitch who is leaving me.”

What did he wanted her to say? She was awfully confused.

“I’m yours and only yours. To love, to hold, to fuck… To stay loyal to for better and worse. We are in the worst. I am leaving, but-“

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, whore,” he spoke.

To brought up her past…he brought up their future. She was his and his only. For now and forever. Since that night where he got her pregnant. He was hers forever and she was his forever.

She leaned up and pressed her kiss to his lips, pressing hard with everything she had, cupping his neck and pushing him with force.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Forever and always.”

“Forever and for now.” he responded.

She knew what that meant and all she did was nod. “Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”

Marshall’s eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and desire. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. “You know,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “I always loved how easily you blush when I tease you.”

Y/N shivered, feeling the heat of his body so close to hers. She tried to hold back a smile but failed as his hands roamed over her body, his touch sending electric shocks through her.

“Marshall, you-“ she began, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

“No talking,” he commanded softly. “Tonight, you’re mine to play with.”

She nodded. He stood up, taking her panties and pulling them over slowly and intimately. Throwing them behind him, he grasped her knees, teasingly pulling them apart. Wrapping them around him, his hands moved to her tank top, lifting it slowly, inch by inch before throwing it behind him.

Y/N was naked in front of him and his eyes roamed over her body, remembering every divot, scar, curve and line. Marshall bit his lip before his tongue diverted out and swiped his lips.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “So utterly beautiful.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I want to remember every detail of you tonight.”

Marshall took a step back, his gaze near leaving hers as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He kicked them aside and then reached for her hand, placing it on his hardening cock.

“Do you feel that?” She swallowed. “That is what you fucking do to me? You have complete control over me. Even if I don’t want you too. Everything about you drives me fucking crazy,” he stated. “You make me beg with everything I have.”

“The feeling is mutual-“

“No, because you’re leaving me-“

“Marshall,” she interjected. “You have no idea how upset I am with me leaving, with us ending and going no contact. You’re a big part of who I am.”

“No,” he stated taking her hand and placing it back on her knee. “I am not part of who you are because you are Y/N Y/L/N. You’re a human. You have control over everything in your life.”

“That is not how life works. Marshall, please can we focus on us right now?”

He nodded. She glanced at his shirtless form. Marshall was built. She knew that as he took great care of his body which she admired. He was pure muscle, thick pecs and borderline abs and she took his hip and pulled him closer to her.            

Y/N stood up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss her. “I love you.”

He nodded, allowing her to kiss him. “I love you too,” he whispered. “You have so much power over me.”

Y/N nodded, breath catching in her throat. “Let’s focus on tonight.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his eyes locking with hers as his fingers trailed up her hip.

“Always.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice a low growl. “Because tonight, I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I am going to make you remember everything to do with us.”

Marshall kissed her again, deeply and passionately, his hands exploring every inch of her body. She arched into his touch, moaning softly as he found all her sensitive spots. He took his time, building her arousal slowly, savouring every moment.

He was a tease, she knew that.

However, he pushed her onto the bed and took her legs, spreading them. His hands wrapped under her thighs, lowering himself down. “I love the way you taste,” he whispered. “I could eat you out forever.”

She smirked, knowing exactly that was the truth. The number of times, she laid in this bed and he ate her out for hours. Orgasm after orgasm and soon enough she hit her own personal record.

However, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lower stomach before his tongue diverted out and trailed down her navel to her heat. His mouth attached to her heat, tongue darting out and lapping her wetness. With such dedication, he ate her out with everything in him. His fingers came rimming her entrance which made her moan before entering.

When his fingers entered her, she arched her back, moaning his name while she gripped the sheets. Marshall was skilled in love making, but fucking was his speciality.

However, as he praised her with everything in her, she felt the knot forming in her stomach. Deep and sincere, it was increasing with tension, and she teased up.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You’ll have a better orgasm.”

She nodded, but she could not find her words. However, a tease he was and slowly he pulled away, taking his fingers and replacing them on her clit, rubbing it as he locked their lips. Y/N tasted herself on his lips which earned a smirk.

Y/N rolled them over, so she was on top of him. Marshall sat on the edge of the bed.

“I wanted to give you an orgasm for every month we’d been together,” he whispered against her lips.

“That’s a lot of orgasms.”

“You can take it. You’ve had more.”

Her hands wrapped around his neck, as she pulled away. She could feel him hardening against her, but she was focused on him.

“I wanna cum together.”

“We can’t always get what we want,” he mused back.

She pouted. “Marshall,” she stated.

“Roll over and let me do my work.”

Marshall gave her the exact number of orgasms they had been together. Seven to be exact and yet, now with her on top of him, riding him with everything she got. He filled her completely. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly. Every thrust, every touch, every kiss was a testament to their love and desire for each other. Y/N felt herself spiralling higher and higher, lost in the pleasure only Marshall could give her.

As they reached their climax together, Y/N cried out his name, her body shuddering with the intensity of her release. Marshall followed soon after, his own release powerful and overwhelming.

They laid together, bodies entwined, breathing heavily. Marshall brushed a strand of hair from her face, kissing her forehead.

“Always and forever,” he whispered.

Y/N smiled and then smirked. “Round two?”

“God, I love you woman.”

-

The morning spent rolling around in the sheets for an additional few rounds before they ended up downstairs making breakfast together. The kitchen was filled with giggles and laughter as they made jokes and had fun with one another. After a small food fight, they ate and pretended this was not their last day together. Instead, they watched TV and cuddled talking about their relationship and all the good memories.

Around three o’clock, Y/N decided it was time for her to leave. Both of them did not like the sounds of her words, but they knew it was coming.

Y/N stood by the doorway, her fingers trembling as she tried to keep her composed. Her bag was packed beside her and Marshall still laid in bed, the TV blaring.

“I should leave. I have a lot of packing to do still,” she admitted.

“I know.”

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were heavy with the same sorrow that was tightening around her heart.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I guess this is it then,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass in her throat, cutting her as they came out.

Marshall looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers. He wanted to say so much, but the weight of what was left unsaid hung between them like a fog. He stood up slowly, each movement deliberate, as if trying to memorise every detail of this moment. “Yeah,” he finally replied, his voice thick with emotion. “This is it.”

Y/N could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, not wanting to break down in front of him. She wanted to be strong, for both of them. But as she looked at him, standing there so close yet feeling so far away, the tear she had fought so hard to hold back finally spilt over.

Marshall stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. The warmth of his touch went a shiver through her, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his palm, savouring the feeling one last time.

“Don’t cry, please,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “You’re gonna make this even harder.”

She let out a shaky breath, her hand covering his on her cheek, holding it there as if she could freeze time and stay in this moment forever. But she knew she could not. They both did.

“I don’t want to let you go,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “But we have to, don’t we?”

Marshall nodded, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his own emotions in check. “Yeah, we do,” he said softly. “We need this…time apart. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you. Every damn day.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, and she felt like she was being torn into two. But she knew this was the right thing to do, even if it hurt more than she could bear.

She pulled away from his hand, the cold air rushing in where his warmth had been. Taking a step back, she forced herself to smile through the tears, even though it felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done. “Goodbye, Marshall.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with deep, lingering sadness. He wanted to say something, anything that could make this easier, but there were no words. So, he did the only thing he could. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, holding her as if he’d never let go. A small kiss was pressed on the top of her head.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, the smell of him, the feel of him, everything about him was imprinted in her memory. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt as she cried silently, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.

After what felt like an eternity, Marshall finally pulled back, his hands still resting on her arms. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment, as if to seal the memory in place.

“Can I least drive you-“

“I think it’ll be better if we just part,” she admitted.

“Ok, let me walk you out then.”

They walked downstairs to the main door and stood there silently, spaces apart and looked at each other which such sorrow.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he whispered against her skin.

She nodded, unable to speak, her throat too tight with emotion. She wanted to say so much, to tell him how he meant to her, how much she loved him, but the words were stuck in her throat, choked by the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Bye, Marshall,” she stated. “Take care.” Just when she turned around and grabbed the door, Marshall reached out, grasping her arm and pulling her before smashing his lips against hers.

"Now, you can go,” he stated, pulling away.

And she left. It was over. She was left with a bracelet with his promise. The chapter they shared was closed, and now they had to move on, no matter how much that hurt. She had two years without him…so she promised. -

Three more chapters to go!

Hope you enjoyed!

Let me know your thoughts and opinions!

Much love,

Ava <3

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 3

Hello, hello. I am so grateful for the amount of support this story has gotten. It's been plotted out, it just needs to get written up. I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but if I know anything about myself, LONG.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Pulling into the truck stop was the hardest thing Eddie had ever done and he faced down dozens of demobats. He slowed to a stop, tires crunching on the gravel.

Thankfully Wayne was already there and waiting for them. He gently shook Steve awake.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You need to get up and walk around. Get the blood flowing again.”

Steve blinked at him blearily. “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie shook his head and climbed out the car. He walked over to Wayne as Steve stumbled out and onto the dust filled gravel.

“Your boy okay?” Wayne asked, watching Steve walk into the bathroom.

Eddie looked back at his friend and then back to him. “I don’t think so. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

Wayne just shook his head. “Don’t you be thinking about fixing shit, son. He’ll let you in when he’s ready. Just be there for him. That’s all you need to do.”

Eddie sighed. “I’m the one on my way to a fucking funeral but Steve seems like he’s grieving more than I am.”

“You told me last night that he had family in Kentucky?” Wayne asked.

He nodded. “I don’t know if any of Steve’s mom’s family is left, but his grandma used live in Lexington before she died when he was little.”

Wayne hummed. “Your dad went to school with Clint Harrington, a pleasure I thankfully missed out on, having already graduated by the time our parents moved to Indiana. I stayed in Kentucky until a social worker showed up on my doorstep with you. You were used to living in Indiana at that point so I moved out there. Went back to the town your grandparents raised Al to raise you.”

Eddie frowned. “Then how did Grandma move back to Kentucky?”

“After your grandfather died,” Wayne explained, “he wanted to buried in the family plot. She fully intended to move back to Hawkins to help with you, but she fell and broke her hip.”

Eddie sighed. “And since you were already taking care of me, it was Aunt Penny that took her in?”

Wayne nodded. “All this to say that family is complicated. And grief is a funny thing. You can think you’re over it and something: a smell, a piece of a song, a person walking down the street and suddenly it’s as fresh as the day it happened.”

He knew. He felt that way about his mom all the time. Sometimes it was as simple as picking up her old guitar and strumming a note. Sometimes it would something one of the kids did or said. He knew.

“I wish I hadn’t asked him to come,” he groused.

“I don’t,” Wayne said fiercely. “I think we all need this trip for one reason or another.”

Steve walked back out of the gas station looking a little more lively. Eddie waved and Steve smiled, breaking into a jog to join them.

“Hey,” he said a little winded. “You didn’t have to let me sleep like that.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nah, you needed it.” He pulled Steve’s keys out of his pocket and tossed it to him. “It’s your turn to drive.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Eddie was just telling me your mom came from Kentucky,” Wayne said gently.

Steve smile faltered a bit. “From Lexington. She’s a Lexington Kincade.”

Wayne blinked a moment. “Holy shit, son. When you said you were wealthy I didn’t realize you meant that kind of money.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like talking about it. I haven’t seen that side of my family since I was little. Her two older brothers, one got the business, the other got the house, but my mom got all the money. They never forgave her for that.”

Wayne nodded. “Even though the house and the business were worth more than the cash, money makes good people go mad.”

Steve looked him in the eye. “I know.”

“Never said you didn’t, son,” he assured him. “I’m sure you know better than most. I’m just commiserating.”

“Thank you,” Steve murmured. “Most people try to tell me to stop whining about it. I can have whatever I want, so that means I can’t miss the simpler things.”

“Go get gassed up,” Wayne said with a smile, “and then we’ll hop back on the road.”

Steve nodded.

“And stay close behind me,” he warned. “I don’t want you getting lost. Ed knows the way but it’ll be better if you don’t beat me there, okay?”

“Outsiders get met with shot guns,” Steve muttered darkly. “I’m aware.”

He pounded Steve on the shoulder and slipped back into his truck. He watched as Steve and Eddie chatted as Steve filled up the car. They walked in together and were back out with more sodas.

When they were securely nestled in Steve’s BMW, Wayne pulled back out into traffic, Steve following close behind.

Every time he glanced in his review mirror, a small smile crept on his face. Those two boys were good for each other.

*

They pulled into a old white house with a large front porch. There was a beat up brass colored 1972 F150 on the lawn and dark blue Chevy Cavalier in the drive way.

The steps sagged and the paint was peeling. Steve was in love. He adored places like this. Because it was someone’s home and not just their house.

There was a woman standing on the front porch, leaning against the supports at the top of the stairs. Her hair was dark and straight, she had brown eyes and a round form. Steve could tell she had worked hard her whole life.

And without a doubt she was going to judge him for not having done the same.

Wayne and Eddie were by his side in an instant though, closing ranks against the woman on the porch. Which meant this was the fabled Aunt Penny.

Steve couldn’t help but wonder how in the hell did Wayne turn out the way he did with siblings like Penny and Al.

“Penny,” Wayne greeted.

“Wayne,” she greeted back dryly. “I wasn’t too keen about you bringing a stranger along. Still can’t say I am on the sight of him.”

Steve popped his hip. “Oh bless your heart, I didn’t realize that I had to be blood-related to want to be there for Eddie and Wayne in their time of mourning.”

Wayne’s eyes went wide as he slowly turned to Steve with his whole body.

Eddie’s jaw dropped before he began cackling.

Penny looked him up and down again. “You’ll do.” And walked back into the house.

“Boy, you got a death wish?” Wayne asked after his sister went inside.

Steve scoffed. “No, but I wasn’t going to let her set the tone for this trip. If I didn’t stick up for myself now, she would spend the trip walking over me, and I haven’t been through hell to have some woman completely unrelated to me be that fucking rude.”

Eddie clasped his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes at Steve. “My hero!” He swooned against the car causing Steve to laugh.

“Come on, you menace,” he said shaking his head fondly. He held out his hand to help Eddie up, but he popped up like a daisy and swanned past him.

Wayne gripped Steve’s shoulder again. “She’s a tough old bird, my sister, but I think you’ll get along with her kids just fine.”

“You want to give me a rundown before I go charging into the hornets’ nest?”

He cocked his head to the side and then cheerfully chirped. “No.” He turned on his heel and walked into the house without preamble.

Steve shook his head. It was looking like it was going to be really long week.

*

Steve walked into a room that would have barely fit in his kitchen. But the furniture looked comfortable and the room itself, inviting.

What wasn’t so inviting was the glares he was getting from half the people in the room. These must be the cousins. There were three girls and a boy.

The oldest of the girls was a curly-haired redhead about his age or a little younger. But unlike the orange color of Max’s hair it was more like a rich auburn. It was piled on her freckled head in an untidy mass to try and beat the last of the summer heat. She wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a white t-shirt tied up under her chest.

The younger of the two girls and clearly the youngest, had dark hair and eyes. She looked to be Holly’s age. She wore a rainbow shirt and coveralls that had been drawn and colored on. Her hair was in two braids that did remind him of Max.

The only boy wore an expression that would have put Mike’s surly sneer to shame. Like his younger sister, his hair and eyes were dark, but his hair was curly like his older sister’s. He was in that awkward middle stage of growth where everything all at once too big and too small.

His style matched that of Eddie’s, ripped black jeans and band shirt that Steve couldn’t read the name of because of the swirling font. He knew Eddie would scoff at him about that later.

Eddie bounced up to Steve with a grin. “Let’s get you to a phone so you can call Robin.”

Steve nodded as Eddie led the way to the kitchen. They came back out a minute later and Eddie waved his arm at the assembled family.

“Stevie, these are the Nelsons. The Mike wannabe is Oliver, the cutie-patootie is Abigail, call her Gale, not Abby. She kicks.” Steve snorted. He could believe it. She reminded him a bit of Erica in that way. “And the eldest and smartest of my aunt’s brood is Lauren. She is the best person you’ll ever meet.”

Steve scoffed. “I think Robin would fight her for that title.”

Eddie laughed.

Oliver glared at him. “Who’s Mike?”

Steve looked him up and down. “He’s one of the kids I used to babysit. Smart kid with a barbed tongue. He’s in Eddie’s old club, Hellfire. Plays a level thirteen paladin.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, impressed.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yeah and just how old is this wizkid?”

“Fifteen,” Steve said with a shrug. “But I’m not sure he’s the smartest of his Party. Dustin built a CV tower from scraps in his basement. Then there’s Will who is a DM like Eddie. Really creative. Can paint and draw. And there’s Lucas. He’s just as smart as Mike, but he also helped his basketball team win the championship as a freshman. They all are in Hellfire, in fact.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you. You just made them up.”

Eddie licked the top of his teeth slowly. “Nope, they’re really real.”

Steve pulled out his wallet and took out a picture. He handed it to Oliver. He pointed to each one in turn, naming them and then snatched the picture back.

“Why would you need to babysit?” Oliver asked, knowing he couldn’t win the argument about them being real. “I know designer clothes when I see them. You clearly don’t need the money.”

“I like kids, but especially those kids.”

Eddie smirked. “They like you, too.” He paused and tapped his lips for a second. “Well...except Mike.”

“Comes with dating his older sister at one point,” Steve said with a shrug.

“I still don’t know why you guys never could make it work,” Eddie said with a frown. It was something he couldn’t get out of... well, any of them really.

Steve looked down at the picture. He put it away and then pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the end. “Her best friend died in my pool while we were dating. It was a party at my house. She blamed herself, but I think she mostly blamed me.”

The room went deathly silent. A pin landing on the soft carpet would have sounded like a bomb going off.

“Aaaannnddd...” Lauren said bouncing up from her chair, “that’s about enough of that.” She smacked the back of Oliver’s head. “You were begging for trouble with that one, dipshit.”

She grabbed Steve’s arm and started dragging him over to the sofa. “You’re going to come over here with me and tell me all about Robin so I can be the judge of who is more awesome and why it’s obviously me.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as Lauren defused the situation. Because holy fucking shit. Now he knew why no one wanted to talk about it.

Wayne came up beside him. “Who’s he talking about, son?”

Eddie chewed on his lip. “I think he’s talking about Barb Holland. Nancy and her were pretty tight before she died.”

“Another bullshit cover up?” Wayne murmured.

Eddie nodded and Wayne nodded back.

“A boy that young shouldn’t have seen as much death as he has,” Wayne murmured.

Eddie could only agree. Especially from white-bred middle America.

***

Pt 4|Pt 5|Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

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