#also eye lines are whack but big shrug

[theroseeatsribs]

silly comic

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of childhood friend Simon

“You missed a spot.”

“Like hell I did.”

Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”

The silence stretches for one, two, three…..

“Where?” he sighs.

“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.

“Fuck.”

“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.

He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”

You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”

He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.

“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”

“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”

He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.

“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized.

“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”

He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.

“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”

“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”

“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”

The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.

“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”

You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.

“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.

You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.

A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.

Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.

“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”

Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.

That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.

He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.

The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.

A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.

“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.

“I did good?” you ask, beaming.

“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”

Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”

Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”

“You’re on!”

—

The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.

“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”

He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”

“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”

He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.

“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.

“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”

“Oh, by all means then.”

Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.

Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.

Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.

“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.

Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.

“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”

Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.

“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”

Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”

“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”

He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Something happened?” you ask.

“We found the group targeting you.”

“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”

Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.

“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”

You perk up. “Do I get to come?”

“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”

��

In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.

Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.

When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.

“Nervous?” he asks.

You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“

He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”

You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.

“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”

He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.

“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”

He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.

“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.

“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.

“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”

You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.

“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”

He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.

“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”

You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.

“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.

“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”

You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”

“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”

You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”

—

You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.

“Raise hell, Si.”

“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”

You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”

“Will do, hen.”

You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.

“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.

You have to be, for Simon.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

If you've come this far in the series, you know what to expect. No physical violence in this final chapter, but there might be some jealousy, protective/jealous Eddie, and threats. Steve with an OC character, parental Stobin, unprotected sex, oral, and meeting the extended family. Can't say goodby without a glimpse of Charlene. Reader is an artist and a vegetarian, but I try hard to keep away from any physical description.

word count: 15k

official author's note will be at the end of this chapter. I cherish you, my I'm on Fire fam, I'm so grateful for the ride, and I hope you enjoy this one.

"It's a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine."

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

The next morning, a new Henderson opened her eyes to the world. 

Steve was the next one to hold her after her parents, and he hadn’t expected to cry, to have his throat close up around his emotions and choke him when he was told they named her Stevie.  He held her so close but so gentle and he barely noticed how wet his cheeks were until Robin came close and rubbed her palm in circles on his back.

“She kinda looks like me. That’s weird right?” Steve hushed, voice catching in a tearful hiccup. He was already thinking of the tattoo he would get with her name, inside his arm, close to his heart. 

“Yeah, that is weird and impossible, Dingus,” Robin smiled into his shoulder, stroking a loving arc over Stevie’s little infant forehead with her finger.  “But she kinda does.”

The labor had been long, the sun was up, and everyone was exhausted.  Astrid was at the house making breakfast while you and Eddie looked after Oliver.  He insisted on watching Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure again, and that was when you learned it was one of Eddie’s favorites as well; he knew every line by heart.  He mimicked Ollie with the chant, “I know you are but what am I, I know you are but what am I?”

And it was only then that you realized why Eddie had made a joke once about violently cutting off your mattress tag, the one that specifically said DO NOT REMOVE. Also, it explained why Steve so ardently wanted to start his own biker gang called Satan’s Helpers.

After breakfast, Eddie took you back to the Hammer to get your car, and even though you didn’t want to socialize, you were also in no mood to be stranded at your place without wheels.  Jackie reminded you that you looked like shit on your way through the smoky haze from the late morning drinkers.  You simply nodded in silent agreement, and it wasn’t so much a nod as your head lazily bobbing on a spring.  Your internal clock was out of whack, and you desperately needed a shower.  A shower and a soak in the healing waters of some type of magical pond that could heal you from the inside out. 

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

And then you pictured Eddie in a pair of loud, tropical swim trunks and giggled to yourself.

You were just about to leave the locker room with your paycheck and a few of your things, when tall, blonde Erika pushed in with a concerned look on her face, making you back up.  She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, covering the “Safety in the Workplace” poster. 

“Hey, so, that guy is here looking for you again,” her whisper was urgent.

Your heart sank for a second as the memory of Craig gripped you.  You had to remind yourself that he was long gone.  

But you wondered if a part of him would always be lurking somewhere near, haunting you from beyond the grave.

Your next guess was Chief Hopper, maybe he had more questions for you.  

“What guy?” You were hoping she had a clue, or asked a name, so that you could prepare yourself, doing your best to smooth out the front of your shirt.

She only shrugged.  “He’s older, Paul Newman type. Smells like he’s made of money. This is the third time he’s been here asking about you.”

It still didn’t ring any bells, but you’d only slept a half hour on the couch curled up next to Eddie while Pee-Wee stormed the Alamo looking for his bike.  

You took a slow peek around the corner of the bar from the hallway and saw John Gregson sitting there with a drink in his hand. Full head of salt n’ pepper hair slicked back off his face, wearing one of his signature gray suits. 

Was he by himself?  The way Charlene had been popping up like a bad rash lately, you almost expected to see her there, playing the dutiful wife.  

You hid yourself in the hallway again, wondering if you had it in you to have a conversation with anyone, let alone him.

To say his face “lit up” when he saw you would be an understatement; He looked as if you’d been pulled from the rubble of a burning building, and he thought he would never see you again.  

You found it hard to match the enthusiasm, even though he’d turned out to be a decent guy.  

He stood up from his stool and Shana gave you both a curious look from behind the bar as she poured a shaken martini into a glass. She was wearing one of her long, black wigs that day with Bettie Page bangs.  

“It’s good to see you,” he gestured to the seat next to him, his icy blue eyes shone like the Mediterranean Sea. “It’s been a while.”

You sank one hip onto the padded stool so that one foot was still on the ground.  You didn’t want him to think you were staying for too long.

“I’m sorry I’m so behind on your painting, life has been—”

He put his hand up, palm out to you.  It was his left hand and you noticed that he was not wearing his wedding ring.  

“Please, don’t worry about the painting.  Take all the time you need, that’s not why I’m here.  Can I buy you lunch?”

“I-I…” you fumbled.  “I was just on my way out.”

“A drink then?” He cleared his throat and shifted closer casually so that his knee was touching yours. He swirled his drink in his hand.  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I didn’t feel it was appropriate to do it over the phone.”

Your anxiety spiked a bit, and it wasn’t as if he was a serial killer or anything, but his sudden shift in proximity gave you pause.  You asked Shana for an iced tea and gestured for him to follow you to one of the more isolated tables against the dark red wall, underneath a framed Led Zeppelin poster.  He pulled your chair out for you before getting settled with his gin and tonic, making sure to use one of the black cocktail napkins as a coaster. 

“I know you’re busy,” he cleared his throat. “So, permit me to get right to the point.” He removed the two stir straws from his drink and put them on the napkin.

 “First of all, I’d like to apologize for my wife. I believe she’s caused you quite a bit of trouble.”

You had not expected that one

His stare was too intense, you had to shift your attention and take a gulp of your drink.

“You see,” he settled back, keeping his forearms on the table.  “I met Charlene when I was barely out of high school, we were together before I made my money, and I always felt like I owed her my blind devotion.  Lately it’s obvious that we only make each other miserable.”

He continued.  “I’m not a stupid man. I always knew about the other boyfriends, not that she made much of an effort to hide it,” he smiled wryly to himself.  “Not to bore you with the details of my failed marriage, but I know that Charlene’s the reason you lost your job at the gallery, and I’d like to rectify that, if I can.”

Realization dawned at his words.  Why hadn’t you put those pieces together earlier? Of course Charlene was the reason you lost your job, she probably threatened to remove her funding and ruin Judith.  

You could barely catch up to what he was saying before he started again.  “I’m opening a gallery in Chicago, and I’d like you to come out and run it.”

You choked and had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand.  “Excuse me?”

John smiled so genuinely at your reaction that the skin around his eyes crinkled.  He undid a button on his suit jacket to get more comfortable. “You’d have full creative license, you’d be able to hire your team, do with it what you wish.  I trust your vision.”

It was that opportunity you’d been dreaming about for years, the one you’d been working toward for almost a decade.  

So easy, just like that.

Here, take it, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

…but was it?

Your head swam, vision tunneling slightly as you glanced around the Velvet Hammer.  You imagined Steve on his stool at the door and Eddie pulling you aside in the hallway to kiss you.  The song Everlong by The Foo Fighters was on, and you thought about how Chicago was over three hours away.  You’d have to move; it was much too far for a commute.

“That’s such a generous offer, I…I don’t know what to say?” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” and before you knew what was happening, his hand slid across the table and was on top of your fingers. 

Your eyes flashed to his hand over yours and you sat there shocked while your need to be polite overrode your core instincts. 

“I know there’s a lot to think about,” he continued, removing his hand to cup it around his drink again.  “Of course, I’d pay for all of your moving expenses.  I own a building downtown with an artist loft I think you might be interested in.  You’d have plenty of room to live and paint, start fresh, if you wanted to.”

Start fresh.

You felt like Shana had slipped a psychedelic into your tea, like you were melting into your chair.  Your brain was having a hard time keeping up with the reality of what was being offered.  

He tossed back another sip and wiped the corners of his mouth, looking almost unsure if he should say the next part.  “Charlene and I—” he licked his perfectly straight teeth in contemplation. “---we’ve decided to go our separate ways.  We’re selling the lake house, a few other properties, and she’s planning to move to Hawaii to be near her sister.”

A thought zipped through your mind then. How long had Charlene known she was leaving? Why would she become a partner in The Velvet Hammer and then move to Hawaii?

“That means I’ll be at my condo in Chicago most of the time, unless I’m traveling for business,” he gave you a pointed look again.  “There are so many places I’d love to take you to in the city.  If you are interested, that is.”

“Well,” you laughed nervously. “I’d need to talk to my boyfriend about it. About the job, I mean.  Moving to Chicago. His whole life is here.”

“Certainly,” John nodded, not missing a beat. “You talk to him and when you’re ready, you have my number. The gallery space I’m buying needs work, so I’d like to fly you out there in a week to take a look at it, once you decide.”

You were still staring glassy eyed at the edge of the table after John stood and left the Hammer.  You hadn’t remembered to breathe in god knew how long, so you tried that, letting out a hard exhale that made a cocktail napkin go flying off the table.

Would Eddie move with you? Visit you on the weekends? The latter seemed more likely but also not, considering how demanding his work schedule was.  Katie told you that Robin had asked her to move in, and you were overjoyed for her.  She’d be paying her share of the rent and utilities for the next month, but after that you’d either need to find a smaller place or a new roommate because you couldn’t afford your duplex on a Velvet Hammer salary.  

One week was all you had.

Did you even need a week? Surely you knew your answer.

—-------

The tires on the tow truck screeched to a stuttering halt out on a Hawkins back road lined with cornfields.

Behind the wheel, Eddie idled there, right in front of that familiar white picket fence around the big yard and the farmhouse with a porch swing and a red barn in back.

Eddie knew the details of the old Ferguson place by heart, it had been his dream house ever since he was in high school and used to take long rides on his bike to clear his head.  The couple that had spent their life raising a family there were in their 80’s now, and he’d heard through the grapevine that they were relocating to a retirement community.  To a smaller place that was easier to care for.  All of their children were grown and lived far away.

The newest addition to the house was where his eyes fell.  

His attention fixed on the sign at the end of the driveway for a long while, heart thudding in his chest.

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

The next day was the Welcome Home Baby Stevie barbeque at Steve’s and he had a blue “Kiss the Cook” apron on and a spatula in his bandaged hand when you and Eddie arrived.  He wore an elastic bracelet made of colorful plastic beads around his wrist that you assumed was a new gift from Oliver.  The sky was bright blue, almost blinding, and the air was crisp. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked on the way up the driveway to Robin and Steve’s backyard where the lawn had been neatly mowed and edged.  “Anything you want to talk about?”

You hated keeping things from him, but you had no idea how to bring up John’s offer, or if you even wanted to mention it.  Eddie had invited you over to his place the night before, but you’d told him you needed some time alone to get to bed early.  Turns out that being alone with your thoughts only made it worse.

“No, I’m fine my love, I promise,” you leaned into him.  “I’m just tired.”

He put his arm around your shoulders to scoop you closer and kiss your ear.  “I’m gonna take care of you tonight.  Make you a bath, pour you some wine, kiss you all over.  How does that sound?”

“It sounds—” you felt emotions water your eyes suddenly and you blinked it away as quickly as you could.  “That sounds perfect.”

You felt guilty that you were even considering John’s offer, but how could you not? A very hopeful part of you said that both were a possibility, that you could keep Eddie and have your dream job in the city. But how? You couldn’t take Eddie away from Wayne and Oliver and his business, you would never ask that of him.  

“Is Wayne coming?” You asked, noticing you did not see his truck.  Also, your thoughts were racing again and you needed a distraction.

“He’ll be here later,” Eddie assured you.  “Astrid is picking him up on her way over.  Max and Lucas stopped by the garage for a visit and I didn’t want to disrupt the reunion.”

You felt a bit embarrassed at the mention of his longtime friend Max, only because you’d been made to believe that she was a mysterious redhead that Eddie was having an affair with not too long ago.

Thanks to Charlene.

You imagined that Hawkins would be a much better place without her lurking around every corner.  Was there a chance that Judith would take you back on at Moon River Gallery?  No, you had no desire to go crawling back to that place. Unless a new gallery opened, or your art took off to celebrity status, you’d be waitressing at the Hammer and squirreling away your tips for the foreseeable future.

But, you’d have Eddie.

You’d been spacing out so hard, you barely realized that Robin was standing in front of you, offering to take the sack with a Tupperware full of homemade potato salad and hamburger buns. Eddie was carrying your veggie burger patties that he bought especially for the occasion, and the fixings to make tofu skewers.  You told him you were a vegetarian once, and you never had to remind him again.  

“You good?” Robin asked, noting the way you shook your head a few times to come back to reality. Katie came up behind Robin to place her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before she moved over to your side.

“Have a beer with me?” Katie asked softly, reading the weariness in your slightly hunched shoulders.  

It was officially fall, but the weather was warm for Indiana in late September.  Eddie had on his Iron Maiden concert tee under his jacket from their 1985 World Slavery tour and black converse with his worn jeans, and he took his leather off and threw it on a lawn chair as he walked over to the grill.

“You better leave the hard stuff to me,” he said to Steve, shifting his gaze accusatory to grill.  The last time he let Steve grill your veggie burger, he’d charred it within an inch of its life.  

“Have at it,” Steve dusted his hands together.  “I have to go check on my pie in the oven.”

“You baked a pie?” Eddie gawked at him like he had hornets crawling out of his ears.  

“Well, Astrid made it,” he pinched a few sunflower seeds out of the front pocket of his apron and popped them in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “It’s cherry,” he bobbed his eyebrows up and down a few times suggestively, and Eddie scoffed, elbowing him out of the way so that he could put his skewers down on the folding table.

You were just about to take the first sip of your beer when a man’s voice that was not familiar called over from the driveway.  

“There’s that long-haired freak I’ve been looking for.”

The skin on your arms prickled with gooseflesh and you spun around, thinking there was about to be some sort of trouble. 

Slightly unrealistic to think the worst, but you were understandably alert.

There at the edge of the lawn stood a tall, handsome guy you’d never laid eyes on before, maybe in his late 20’s, and he had a Coffin Kings cut on that was very similar to the one’s Eddie and Steve wore.  At his side, holding his hand was an adorable redhead. Her long hair was pulled through the back of a baseball cap, but you noted that the bright candy color was deeply familiar.  

You turned to see Eddie’s reaction like you were watching a tennis match.  

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he beamed.  “Look what the cat dragged in, "and he stopped what he was doing to make his way over with his arms out and the two hugged, giving each other hearty pats on the back.

“Max!” Robin squealed, practically doing a cartwheel in that direction.  You and Katie fell back and stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the group reconnect in a way that was very familial.  

Lucas and Max had been together since high school, you learned, and Lucas was a member of the Coffin Kings Indianapolis chapter.  The song Love Spreads by The Stone Roses played from Robin's portable boombox on the steps as the new arrivals meandered in to be with the rest of the gang and assimilated with ease.  

Eddie rested his hand on your lower back to introduce you, and instead of a handshake, Max went in for a hearty hug, and in your ear, she said, “Eddie loves you so much, I’ve been dying to meet you.”

When she pulled back to meet your eyes, you nodded, swallowing hard.  “I’ve heard so much about you,” you told her, and then Max shot a look at Eddie and made a crack about how she hoped it was all good things that you’d heard.

They were even more interested to meet Katie, being that Robin had not been serious about anyone since before Oliver was born.  Just then, the Oliver in question came bursting out of the house flying his hot dog bun through the air like a plane, making engine noises.  

By the time Dustin and Suzie came by with their new baby, the smell of burgers charring on the grill filled the air and you helped Steve bring some more chairs out to the lawn.  Eddie was taking much care to keep your vegetarian stuff away from the meat, and you couldn’t help but notice with deep adoration.

Astrid had a lot on her mind.  So much so that she didn’t have it in her to make the usual banter with Wayne that she enjoyed when they were together.

“You okay, darlin’?” Wayne turned to her in the truck on the way over.

“Oh,” she tucked a thick swatch of dark hair behind her ear. “You know, just thinking about how excited Steve must be about the new baby.”

There was a distinct melancholy in her voice.  One of the reasons the relationship between her and Steve had never gone any further than besties who make love was her refusal to take away his chance at a big family.  She was barely 21 when a doctor told her she’d never be able to conceive. Well, technically he said there was a small chance—a hairline percentage—but that it “would take an actual miracle”---those were his words.  

She loved Steve too much to not let him be a dad.  He was made for that life.  Ever since he was a teenager, he’d known he wanted to be a father, and once he had Oliver, she knew she’d done the right thing.  She’d tried to keep their relationship platonic time and time again, but in the end, the chemistry between them always proved to be too strong.  

She’d decided that she would love him until he found someone else, and then she would continue to love him from the shadows.  She’d given her heart long ago, and with him it would stay.  

“Hell, look at the head of hair on that kid,” Wayne said when Suzie introduced him to her daughter.  He gave a crooked grin and stroked a finger along the back of her tiny, exposed hand.  

At that, Dustin took his cap off and swiped a hand through his unruly mane.  “Thank god the rest of her looks take after her mother.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lucas grumbled, thumping his friend in the arm.  

Steve had his back to the crowd when they came in and Astrid spanked him on the bum on her way up the stairs to the kitchen.

He spun on his heel and was quick to cage his arms around her so she could only squirm.  His face was flushed and glowing.  “You meet the kid?”

“I did,” normally, she would’ve kissed him, but instead she pulled back a bit, tilting her chin away.  “She’s so beautiful, Steve.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” she knew she was a fool to think he wouldn’t be able to read her face, a fool to think he couldn’t read her like a book after all of those years.  

Steve frowned, examining her face for a clue to her distress.  

Astrid’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed a lead weight.  

She hadn’t decided if she should tell him or not.

About the secret she’d been carrying with her for a few days.  

15 years, that’s how long she’d been in love with him.

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

They���d known each other since they were little kids.

“I need to talk to you later,” she told him.

Steve dropped his arms from around her but held her hand.  “You can’t tell me now?”

She’d be 38 in December.

“Later, okay?” She winked at him to ease his suffering, and then made her way into the house, knowing that he stood there the whole time and watched her go. 

But later that day never came.  

Wayne wanted to get back and rest before his chemo treatment, and Dustin and his family only stayed for about an hour as they were all understandably still exhausted and wanting to recover at home.  

Astrid waved goodbye to Steve on her way out, and Steve stood up from his chair thinking he’d get a kiss, or at least a hug—but then she was gone.  

He tried not to think too much of it.  If he’d done something to upset her, she was never shy about letting him know.  Maybe she was tired of socializing, maybe she needed a break from him.

Lord knows he wished he could take a break from himself.  

Eddie looked over at where you stood talking with Max and Robin, and he recalled the conversation he’d had with Wayne a few days earlier.

“I don’t have to tell you you found a good one,” Wayne said from the couch in his trailer while Eddie sat next to him.  “I think you know they don’t come around very often.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Eddie raked a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead one, two, three times.  “I keep thinking one day she’s going to wake up and realize she could do a lot better.”

“You’ve done better than you give yourself credit for,” his uncle returned in a low, steady voice. 

When the next words came, Eddie felt a tightness in his throat:

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Wayne had a hard time leaving the house the day after his treatments, so Eddie always came by to bring him lunch and make sure he had everything he needed.  One day he came by to check on Wayne and found that you were already there, doing his dishes for him.

He’d never been with anyone who cared about the people in his life like that.  

Back at the barbeque, you slipped up next to him and planted your lips on his bicep, breathing in the sandalwood and leather of his scent.  “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Since you asked,” he smirked.  “I was thinking how I wish I’d met you a lot sooner.”

“How much sooner?” You batted eyes at him once he turned to face you. “In high school?”

Eddie made a yuck face.  “No, you would not have given me a chance in high school.  I would’ve been a lovesick puppy, but you probably wouldn’t have even known I existed.”

“Are you kidding?” You stuck the tip of your tongue out between your teeth, examining him.  “I would’ve jumped your bones so fast.”

“So fast, huh?” He chuckled, taking you by the hips. “What about now?”

He pulled you in and you hummed against his lips, trying not to get too horny right there in front of the guests.  

Lucas and Max would be in town for a couple days, so you and Eddie made plans to meet up at the Velvet Hammer when you were off work on Tuesday.  By the time the sun went down, all of the visitors were gone, and you were happy to head home as well after helping with some cleanup.  

“Robin and I can take care of it,” Katie nudged you away from trying to wash out a casserole dish at the sink. “You get out of here and go rest.  Make Eddie rub your feet or something.”

You both stopped what you were doing to look at each other.  

The way you were searching your friend’s face made her turn to give you her full attention.  In the background, you could hear Steve trying to convince Oliver to get his pajamas on and brush his teeth in a sing-song voice.  

“I can’t believe how much has happened in these past few months,” you still had soap bubbles popping on your wet hands and you slid them absently along the thighs of your jeans. 

Katie gave a thoughtful sniff.  “I think about it a lot,” she mused. “About that night on the couch at our place when you first told me about the guy who picked you up in the tow truck, and then meeting the boys at The Hideout and then—”

She cringed and covered her face with a dish towel, remembering her “date” with Steve.  “---it feels so surreal that Steve and I actually…well…I don’t want to think about it.  It’s too weird.”

“But then you and Robin found each other again,” you offered, thinking back to that first barbecue at their house when Eddie had to take off suddenly for secretive Coffin Kings business.  

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell your friend about the offer from John Gregson.  Katie knew you better than most people and you could always trust her advice to be on the mark.  

For some reason, you wanted to cry, just drop to your knees and start bawling right there on the kitchen floor.  For no one reason just

Everything

Katie caught the way your jaw moved like you were just about to say something, but then Eddie’s hands were snaking around to hold your back flush to his chest.  Your hair caught on his beard stubble when he leaned in, warm breath at your ear.  “You ladies need any help in here?”

You closed your eyes; you were glad to have him there. Glad to be in his arms, glad to know, in your heart, that he would always try his best for you.

But you were the one keeping a secret.  

Robin joined Katie at the sink and told you both to take a hike, lovingly.  

Steve came into the kitchen after you were both gone and the engine of Eddie’s Chevelle could be heard thundering down the road.

The first thing he did was pick up the beige, wall-mounted phone and call Astrid.  He stood there for a while with the receiver pressed to his ear and his other arm folded over his chest before he held the mouthpiece out in front of him and stared at it.

“She’s not answering,” he mumbled loud enough that the girls could hear.  

“Maybe she’s at Wayne’s? Did you check there?” Robin offered; her hair worn up in a haphazard ponytail.

Steve checked the clock first to make sure he wasn’t bothering Uncle too late, but it was barely 8:30 and he was probably up in his recliner watching M*A*S*H reruns.  

Wayne answered and they exchanged a few words, but then when Steve hung up again, he was quiet, contemplatively so.

“What did he say?” Robin asked impatiently, drying some silverware with a checkered towel.

Steve frowned.  “He said she dropped him off almost two hours ago and told him she was going home.”

He tried her house one more time and, again, no answer.  He let it ring five times but disconnected once her answering machine clicked on.  

“Maybe she went to bed early,” Katie shrugged.  “And turned the ringer off.”

Steve knew better; Astrid barely slept.  Normally, not being able to get a hold of her would not phase him, but something about the way she’d been acting that night set an alarm off in his gut.  

Outside, there was the sound like a firecracker bomb going off that shook the house.  Robin yelped and Steve bolted to the window to yank the yellow curtain back to see where it had come from.  

He got there just in time to see a streak of lightning crack the dark sky and a drizzle of rain hit the glass.  “Oh shit, good thing Eddie came in the Chevelle,” the droplets turned into a downpour as he stood there.  

“Looks like a hell of a storm is brewing.”

—----

Earlier that day, Charlene Gregson marched out of Murray Bauman’s office with her lawyer in tow.  She wore her oversized sunglasses and no expression on her face as they went down in the elevator and exited into the austere lobby.  She looked like a million bucks, which was probably the cost of all of the gold and diamond jewelry she had on.  

Outside on the busy street, her personal chauffeur was waiting by the Towncar to open the door for her while her lawyer, a pit-bull of a man named Saul, got in on the other side to slide in next to her.  Billy was out there waiting on his bike, to make sure no one bothered her on their way out.  He flicked his cigarette to the ground and revved the engine, angling to fall in line behind the Towncar.

“You sure this is what you want?” Saul posed the question to her as he slammed his door shut. They’d just thrown a lot of money at Murray and had him sign official documents.

Charlene sounded annoyed.  “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? The deal is done.”

He continued. “I suppose I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you would—” 

“I don’t pay you to ask personal questions,” she sniffed. “Just make sure there’s a smooth transition.  I don’t want to be having a cocktail on the beach and find out that you fumbled something, and I’m forced to fly back out here.”

The town car sailed into traffic and the two sat in silence for a few minutes until Charlene stared out the window at the passing buildings on their way back to the lake house. 

 “Have you ever been in love, Saul?” 

He was confused by the question and tapped his foot a few times.  “I can’t really say I have.” 

After recent events, and everything that he’d been tasked to do in her name for the benefit of someone else made him wonder. “What about you?”

“Only once,” she pressed her red lips together, eyes unblinking behind her sunglasses.  “And once will have to be enough.”

Saul assumed she meant her soon to be ex husband John, and so he left it at that.  

—-------

In a matter of seconds, the rain was coming down in sheets and the windshield wipers on the Chevelle were flapping back and forth at supernova speed.

“We could go back to my apartment if you want,” Eddie turned the Faith No More song down on the radio so that he could be heard over the rain.  “But your place is cozier, and I know both are fairly small but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”

“I think I want to stay at my place tonight,” you blurted it out, keeping your attention fixed on the dash, staring at nothing. “Alone, if that’s alright.” 

You could see in your peripheral vision that he turned to look at you, and you offered a reflexive smile, shoulders hunched a bit as if you were trying to fold  in on yourself.  

He smoothed his palm around the steering wheel and tried not to let the sensitive side of him that had been abandoned his whole life jump to conclusions.  Not everyone needed to sleep next to the person they loved every night; you wanting space was totally reasonable and had nothing to do with your feelings for him.

Right?

Just in case, he decided to make sure.  “Was it something I said or? Cause if there’s an issue between us, you know you can talk to me.”

For some reason, his insistence to have healthy communication irritated you.  Possibly because you knew he was right and you should put it all out on the table and talk to him, but you didn’t know how.  Your brain had barely been able to process the offer from John, let alone put the whole thing into words.

“It’s nothing you did,” you said softly.  “I just need time to think.”

Something about your tone and choice of words made his heart rate increase.  “Think about what?”

“Just stuff Eddie, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now!” You snapped at him, for the first time ever.  

After everything with Erika and Charlene and Melanie and thinking he’d been cheating on you, you’d never lost your temper with him, and the two of you had never had a fight.  As much as you knew that arguments and disagreements were a very normal part of intimate relationships, you still felt like shit the second the words came out with such vitriol.

There it was, Eddie’s biggest fear: you were pulling away from him.  

He’d suffocated you just like he was prone to do.  He was “too much”, and now you were getting sick of him.  

For the next few minutes of the drive to your place, neither of you said a word.  

You because you didn’t want to take your confusion and anxiety out on Eddie, and Eddie because he didn’t want to sound like a whiny, needy bitch and make things worse.    

He parked up in your driveway to get you close to the door, but he kept the engine running to let you know he was honoring your wish to drop you off and let you be.  

You took a deep breath and flipped the manual lock up with two fingers.

“Wait, let me—” he was about to get out and come around to hold his coat out for you so that you wouldn’t get wet, but you were too quick for him.

“I’ll be fine, goodnight.” you were soaked the second you stepped out, fumbling in the pocket of your bag to find your keys.

“I love you,” Eddie’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the weather.

“Love you too,” you said quickly, and then you were bolting for the house, wishing you’d left the porch light on.  

Once you were inside, you clicked the deadbolt shut and watched the beam of Eddie’s headlights retreat.

This was ridiculous.  You were being ridiculous.  

There’s a beautiful man out there who treats you better than you’ve ever been treated in your whole life.  

You threw your bag on the floor and undid the lock to jerk open the door again.

You stumbled out into the rain.  “Eddie wait!”

But all you could see were his taillights as he pulled onto the main street and drifted away.  

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

At one point, she had her hand on it, ready to pick up, but then decided against it.  

It was impossible for her to be fake with Steve, but she also wasn’t ready to be as forthcoming as she needed to be.  

She stood at the table and looked at the paperwork from the doctor's office one more time before she made her way over to the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest to let the tears fall hot and heavy.  

She had her eyes closed, so she didn’t notice the lights approaching in the driveway or hear Steve shouting her name from the sidewalk as he stood out in the rain.

He’d borrowed Robin’s car to ease his mind and make sure Astrid was okay.  What if she had slipped and hit her head or something? What if she was there with another dude? Also, a possibility under their “don’t ask, don’t tell” relationship agreement.    

The white t-shirt he had on was soaked through, making the tattoos underneath look like they were a design imprinted on the material that hugged his muscles.  

He banged on the door with the side of his fist and shouted her name again. 

By then, Astrid could hear him, but she stayed curled on the couch and waited in vain for him to give up and leave.  

—--

Eddie scowled to himself as he parked the Chevelle in one of the garages and made his way across the parking lot and up the steps to his apartment, shaking his wet hair like a dog.  He could hear a few of the guys partying in the clubhouse, and he thought about joining them, but realized his spirits were too low to be social. There was a punching bag in the back office where he normally did his workouts to burn off steam, but he wasn’t in the mood for that either.  

He told himself he would check on you first thing in the morning, but then it occurred to him that you might not want to hear from him right away.  He wanted to respect your wishes, your boundaries.  

He didn’t want to smother you.

On the nightstand next to his phone was the card for the real estate agent he’d visited the day before.  There was a room on the second floor of the Ferguson farmhouse with a view of the big backyard and he imagined setting some easels up to make it a place for you to paint.  It had a big living room with a fireplace and a workshed in the barn.  He wanted to talk to you about it, to ask if maybe you could see yourself living there.  With him.  

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.  

He crossed his arms over his body and took his shirt off in the bathroom mirror.  He rubbed a hand down his stomach, noting the areas of skin that were not covered in inked designs.  The fanged bat with wings spread wide on his chest, the dragon design on his bicep, the grim reaper on his forearm.  A crude dagger made to look like it pierced his skin just under his rib cage that said, “true friends stab you in the front”.  There were other bits of traditional biker flash scattered around that Steve had doodled on him over the past decade.  On his other forearm was a memorial tattoo for his mother with her name, the year she died, and an angel statue with eyes that dripped blood, surrounded in roses and thorns, and the thorns came down over the back of his hand.  It was done in a way so that the bats that had been inked there earlier were still visible.  

He was barely 15 when another friend inked HELLFIRE on his knuckles.  It was done with a homemade tattooing gun like the ones used in prison, and the letters had to be redone later because they were basically chicken scratches.  One of the other earliest ones was the skull with a snake through it on his opposite bicep with his nickname “War Machine” underneath.  

Some days, he wanted to get them all removed and start over.

Other days, he wanted to go balls to the wall like Steve and be inked from ear to foot.  

He threw his soaked shirt in the hamper and was just about to grab a beer out of the small fridge near his desk to take into the shower with him—

but then there was a knock at the door.  

At first, he thought it was one of the other Coffin Kings, trying to drag him down to get plastered with them, but then he noticed that the rapping of knuckles was soft, cautious even.  

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you. 

—------

Steve held his finger on the doorbell, relentlessly.  “Astrid, if you don’t answer the goddamn door, I’m gonna break it down!  You know I will!”

Astrid wiped her face, flapping her hand to dry her eyes and cheeks to the best of her ability.  She still had on the flowy, floral, maxi dress with an empire waist that she’d worn at the barbeque, and she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders as she stomped begrudgingly to the door. 

Just as she was about to reach up to unlock the safety chain, there was a loud thud from Steve’s foot slamming into the wood, vibrating the hinges.

“Steve stop!” She yelled, fussing with the second lock on the doorknob.  

She yanked the door back and there he was: soaked to the bone. 

There was only a short awning over her front steps, and so he was standing as close to the frame as possible while more thunder rumbled in the distance. His wet hair had flopped into his eyes, and he swiped it back with a twist of his head, spitting to the sidewalk as he did so.  

His expression was one of anger at first, but then it melted into confusion when he could tell right away that she had been crying.  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“This is a bad time,” she stayed blocking the entrance, although the yearning in his eyes was actively testing her resolve.

“The hell it is?” He pushed. He shifted to see behind her, as if there was someone or something she was hiding.  “You’re upset, I can tell.  Let me in.”

“No.” That was her answer, but Steve wasn’t having it.

He stomped up onto the threshold, wet hair dripping onto her face as he closed in, bracing his hand on the door so that she couldn’t shut it.  “Why don’t you want to see me?”

She tried to look everywhere but his face, but then his hand caught her chin and guided her eyes up to meet his. 

 “Talk to me,” he whispered from lips dotted in water droplets.  

There was a tug of war going on in her heart, and in the end, Steve won.  He always did.  

She didn’t invite him in properly, she just turned on her heel and left the door open, knowing he would follow her into the living room.  

His boots squeaked from all the moisture on her hardwood floors.  He always liked to take his shoes off when he came to see her, but it was too late for that.  He found her sitting on the couch in the dark, but he could only see the outline of her curly hair.

“Why are you sitting here without any lights on?” He reached down and flicked on a tiny wicker lamp that was on the nearby bookshelf.  

“You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He pinched the front of his shirt to peel it from his body and flapped it a few times as if that would dry it out. “What did you want to talk to me about at the barbeque?”

“You’re soaking wet,” she got a good look at him in the light and suddenly felt bad that she’d made him wait out there.

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically. 

“You left some of your clothes here last time. I folded them in the third drawer,” she hugged the pillow.  “Get into something dry and then we can talk.”

He stripped down to his underwear right there in front of her, staring at her the entire time, as if he was worried she would bolt and try to hide from him. His patchwork of colorful tattoos was a jumble of loud expressions of his aggression and passion.  In honor of his nickname Taz, he had several Tasmanian devils doing various things including riding a motorcycle and one on the back of his arm giving onlookers the middle finger.  The ones on the front of his thighs were all self-done when he was just a kid, practicing his craft.  When he was a teenager, he used to tease her and call her “Asteroid” and just above his knee was an asteroid with a fire tail crashing toward a heart-shaped earth.  Besides the Seek and Destroy tattoo on the side of his throat, his skin was full of phrases, including the big “FTW” letters in an arc under his ribcage that stood for “Fuck the World”.   

He went into her bedroom and brought out a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt with “Gary’s Plumbing” advertised on the front pocket.  He dressed in front of her as well, keeping a relentless eye.

“You really are ridiculous, you know that?” She put her chin in her palm and waited patiently for the show to be over.  

He flapped his arms out to his sides like a little kid waiting for approval on his outfit. “Okay, beautiful. I’m dry.  Time to spill the beans.”

“Can you sit down, please?” Her heart flopped in her chest as she considered the words that were about to come out of her mouth and the effect, they would have on him.

In Steve’s experience, when someone asked you to sit down before they told you something, it was always their attempt to soften the blow of bad news.  “Why can’t you just tell me now? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

“Steve,” She pleaded sternly.  “Trust me, I need you to sit down for this.”

—------

Eddie barely had time to greet you before you were pushing by him to get into the studio apartment.  You were hugging yourself, and anxiety had your stomach in knots.  

“I need to talk to you about something,” you gushed.  

Eddie stood at the door, keeping his back to you while he locked it.  He was shirtless, dark hair dripping down the pale muscles that flexed under his flesh.  

You looked around, trying to decide if you should sit or stand when your gaze landed on the painting you’d done for him after that first time you met.  He had it displayed front and center, right above his desk on the main navy-blue wall, as if it were the most important piece in the room.

You were pacing when he turned toward you, the wheels in your mind spinning.

When he got closer, you stepped further away, but he caught your wrist.  “Hey, why can’t you look at me? What’s going on?”  His voice was sterner than he’d intended it to be.  

“I can look at you,” you made yourself meet his stare to prove his point, but it was difficult. You felt like he could see right through you; all of your doubts, all of your fears and insecurities. 

“Sit,” he directed you over to the end of the bed, facing the small sitting area with where there was a couch and a coffee table in front of an old Zenith tv.

Next to you, the mattress sank under his weight, but in your mind, you were somewhere else.  

“So, is this it?” He released a heavy breath and started to play with one of the rings on his hand, pulling it up the finger and then pushing it back down to the knuckle.

“What do you mean?”

It was he who couldn’t look at you now.  “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” You blurted it, eyebrows pinching together in frustration with the way you couldn’t get the words out.  “That’s not…I didn’t mean…I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

A rush of endorphins filled him with temporary relief while he waited for your next words.

You stretched your neck from side to side, swallowed hard, and then you told him.

You told him about John’s offer to run your own gallery in Chicago, the opportunity to have the artists loft you’d always dreamed of.  You picked at a piece of skin on the side of your thumb as you talked.

“But I said I needed to talk to you about it first,” you added.

Eddie got to his feet and went over to look out the window over the garage parking lot. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal,” he mumbled.  

You weren’t breaking up with him, but you were, in fact, leaving him, which was much the same thing.

“Well, it’s complicated,” you said, watching as he went over to snatch his pack of smokes and lighter off of the coffee table.  

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” the cigarette bobbed between his pinched lips as he talked, cupping his hand to light the end.  “Sounds like you already know what your answer is.”

“I wouldn’t be talking to you about it if I’d already made my decision,” you countered.  “I want to know what you think.”

“Well,” he scoffed, exhaling a sharp plume of smoke down his chin. His eyes were much darker now, almost black.  “No one in their right mind would choose to stay in Hawkins, not with an opportunity like that on the table.” 

He almost added, “no loser biker boyfriend is worth it,” but decided it was not the right time to be self-deprecating. 

“But I like it here,” you mused. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“We’ll always be here, trust me,” he was trying to remain cool, but his exterior was cracking.  “So, this John guy has been stalking you or something? Getting you to do this painting for him was one thing, but now he’s waiting for you at your job to get you to what? ----Move to Chicago to be closer to him?”.

The smoke came out his nose that time and the muscles in his throat tensed.  He had a bad feeling about that guy before, but he wanted to respect your business ventures and give you space.

The change in Eddie’s demeanor made you wonder if that was the time for full transparency.  In the end, you’d made a promise not to have any secrets from each other and you wanted to keep your word.

“There was mention of that, yes,” you said cautiously, nibbling at your lip.  

“Mention of what, exactly?” Eddie scowled, cocking his head to the side.

“He said there were lots of places he wanted to take me to in the city,” you recited the words cautiously.

Eddie laughed and threw his head back; it was much more of a crazy, maniacal cackle.  “Oh shit, maybe I should pay him a little visit?  See if pretty boy wants to show me the city too.”

“Eddie.”

“What did you tell him?” He was fuming now, grinding his jaw as he stabbed the half-smoked cig into the ashtray.  

“I didn’t tell him anything,” you repeated, but in a much louder voice.  “I said I needed to talk to you, my boyfriend.”

“He knows you have a boyfriend, and he still pulled that shit?”  Eddie bit the tip of his tongue between his teeth with a grimace.  “That fucker needs to get rolled.”

“Eddie!” 

“No, I’m serious,” he was yelling now, but more about the situation than at you.  “I gave him a chance to be cool, to be a gentleman, and he fucked it up. I told you babe, dudes like that, with money, think they can take whatever they want.  Well, he can’t have you, unless it’s over my dead fucking body.”

“Well, it’s my fucking choice, and I don’t want to be with him, I want to be with you, asshole,” You shot to your feet.  

You’d realized something on your way over to his place and it was that you really did not want to leave Hawkins.  

Every rational bone in your body told you to take the offer and run, but the other bones in your body, the not so rational ones, told you that you’d finally found your family and a place you belonged.  

“Listen to me,” you grabbed him by the arm and made him turn, his hair flying over his shoulder.  “I don’t want to take the job, okay? I want to stay here.  With you.”

Eddie nostrils flared.  It was taking all of his strength not to go out looking for that pencil pushing dweeb Gregson.  But if he actually got his hands on him in the heat of the moment, he was afraid of what he would do.  

“I’ll move with you,” Eddie wet his lips, a new idea flashing behind his eyes.

“With me? To Chicago?”

“Yeah, no, I could make it work. Hire another manager here, another tow truck driver. Come back and check in a couple times a month,” he walked by you as he talked, plucking at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger. “I could get a job at a garage in Chicago, easy. There’s even a King’s chapter there. I could get Bones to patch me in.”

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?” 

“We’ll come back to visit,” Eddie nodded at the plan that was forming in his head.  “Steve and Robin and the kid love Chicago.  Maybe we can get a place with a spare bedroom for when they come up.”

“But what about—”

“I know this means a lot to you, this opportunity,” he cut you off.  “I know I’m a dirty, biker asshole, but I’m not going to be the reason you give up on a dream.” He went over to the dresser drawers and pulled out a Pabst Blue Ribbon shirt to pull on over his head.  The armholes were cut wide, and the collar was frayed.  

“But what if I don’t want to live in Chicago?”

Eddie squinted like he hadn’t heard you correctly.  “What now?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation.  “I’ve been thinking that I don’t really care about that world anymore, the art world I mean.”

“You don’t want to paint anymore?” He appeared hurt by this notion.  

“No, I do, I will always paint,” you corrected with a wave of your hand.  “But the retail side of it, the snobby clientele, the stress, I’m not sure it makes me happy anymore.  Not sure if it ever did.”

It was Eddie who took a seat that time, perching on the back of the sofa. You could tell he was trying to understand, but the information was coming at him a bit too fast.

“I don’t want to work at the Hammer for the rest of my life, either, but it’s okay for now,” you were working through the revelations as you spoke them aloud.  “I have a friend who is starting her own greeting card company, and she wants me to do some artwork for her.  Little by little, I can make a living while still doing what I love.”

Eddie’s thoughts drifted back to the farmhouse, and how much he felt like it fit the both of you.  

“Are you telling me you chose Hawkins? Really?”

You went over to situate your hips between his knees and brushed his bangs off his forehead.  “No, I’m saying I choose you, asshole,” a smile tugged the side of your mouth up.  “Hawkins is a bonus, yes, but I will always choose you.”

Foreheads met then, and Eddie forced out a long-held breath from between tight lips.  “I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you made a mistake.”

“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to jump your bones in high school.”

He chuckled, repeating what he’d asked at the barbeque earlier.  “Well, what about now?”

In the back of his mind he was thinking, “that John Gregson is still a dead man,” but he kept it to himself.

—----

Steve flopped down next to Astrid on the fluffy, tan sofa so violently it was as if he’d been thrown there by a force of nature.  He scooted closer and pawed at her hand so that she would intertwine her fingers with his.  He was reminded of all of those times as a teenager when he would get hurt on purpose just so she would patch him up.  She was a couple years older and wanted nothing to do with him back then, but nevertheless he melted under the tender touch of her attention every time.  

“I’m all ears,” he prodded eagerly when she did not speak right away.  

Keeping Steve’s hand with hers, Astrid turned to face him and tucked her bare feet underneath her, adjusting the stretch length of her dress.  

Steve watched the way her long hair fell across her neck and ample cleavage. 

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “What I need to tell you is—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, perpetually distracted.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Another big inhale and then: “These past few weeks, I could tell something was…off.  I thought it was early menopause because I missed my period.”

Steve stared blankly, trying not to get turned on watching her lips move.  

She let her gaze fall to their hands clasped on Steve’s knee, wondering if any of it was real, or if she was still dreaming. 

“Is it cancer?”  He dared to ask, squeezing her hand.  “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you.  I’ll find the best doctor at gunpoint if I have to.”   

“Steve!” 

“What? You’re making me crazy! Tell me everything's okay?”

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

“Well then what is it? I’ve been going out of my mind and here you are—”

“I’m pregnant.”

His body had been moving, vibrating even, but it all came to a complete halt at that.  

As if he’d been flash-frozen on the spot.

A mannequin of himself; mouth open, one eyebrow up. 

He shook his head, confused.  “Hold on, what? But I thought you said that you—”

She played with the hem of her shawl.  “I was told it was impossible.  I was told it would take a miracle.”

“Wait a minute, so—” he gulped and then leaned forward to search her face, one arm scooping behind her.  Her eyes were glossy again, on the verge of another wellspring.  

“Is it m-my…is it my baby?” He stammered.

She could only nod, chin quivering as more tears gathered at her lash line only to race down her cheeks once she blinked.  

Steve lost it then too, sucking in air before he choked on his own emotions.  He brought her hand to his chest and held it there.  “My baby,” he gasped, eyes flooding.  “You’re having my baby.  We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” she hiccuped and sniffed. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? How could you even think that?” He was deeply offended that she would question his reaction to something he’d wanted his whole life with her, specifically.

He was wiping her tears away with his thumbs as she spoke.  “This is far from convenient, Steve. The way we both live our lives, we never planned for this. We barely have two pennies to rub together between us and—”

“Shhhh,” he kissed her nose and her eyelids and her mouth. “Money comes and goes, sweetheart.  It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, but you and this baby.  Our baby.”

Our baby.  He couldn’t stop saying it.  

He hadn’t known about Oliver until a few days before he was born, and he always felt robbed of all that time in the womb when he could’ve bonded with his son.  Tina had been a three-day fling at a music festival, and he never had any intention of seeing her again.  He’d been prepared to do the right thing though, to be a family even if it killed him, but then Tina just handed him a baby boy a week old and drove away, as if he knew what the fuck he was doing.  

Robin had been in the car waiting for him when it happened.  She saw him standing there in the street holding that screaming baby in a blanket and right then and there, a mother was born.  

He put his hand on Astrid’s stomach, gently.  “Can I feel it move yet? The baby?”

She laughed into her hand as she wiped her nose.  “I’m barely seven weeks along, silly.” 

He curled down like he always did when he put his head in her lap, but instead he placed his ear on her stomach, massaging her thigh with his hand. “I don’t think you can hear me, little one, but daddy has loved your mother his whole life and I love you very much.”

His next words were to Astrid; a murmur into the meat of her. “Will you let me love you now? The way I’ve always wanted to? Will you stay with me?”

She scratched her fingers through his hair, and then held his head there when his arms went around her waist. They stayed like that for a long while.

A bit later, in bed with her head on his chest, he was half asleep when she whispered: “You know that twins run in my family, right?”

—------

“A geriatric pregnancy,” Steve told you from across the bar when you were both back at work the next evening to the tune of Connection by Elastica. 

You made a face while you put some limes and shots of tequila on your tray.  

“That’s what they call it, I guess, when a woman is over 35,” he shrugged.  “A geriatric pregnancy.  So, I’m forcing her to take it easy.”

He was letting you and Shana in on the good news, and he’d been grinning from ear to ear for so long, his cheeks hurt.  His gold incisor caught the red lights like it had a ruby in it.  He’d even been smiling in his sleep, somehow, as Astrid noticed when she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. 

“I’m so happy for you,” you mirrored his enthusiasm.  “Does Eddie know? Wayne?”

“Not yet,” he made a loose fist and cracked his knuckles. “We wanted to tell Uncle together.  I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but I couldn’t wait,” he added sheepishly. “She knows I can’t keep a secret like that.”

“I’ll wait and let you give Eddie the news,” you told him.  “I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

“Where is that War Machine?” Steve looked around, adjusting his sunglasses on his head.  “I owe him a drink.”

“That’s a good question,” you glanced at the clock that was up by the wall-mounted tv.  “He said he was going to stop by, but that was almost two hours ago.”  It didn’t concern you too much because your boyfriend was a busy guy, and last-minute things were always popping up at the shop.  

It was on your to-do list to call John on your break and let him know you were turning down his offer.  The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if he’d planned to hire you on merit, or if he just wanted to get into your pants.  When you thought about the possibility of the latter, it made your blood pressure spike.  

You delivered a round of drinks to a table, and on your way back to the bar, there was a man in a suit coming through the door, holding a briefcase.  

Steve gave him a nod when they made eye contact, but he didn’t ask to check his ID because the man had a graying hairline and was possibly mid-fifties at the least.  He was fit though, and had a very confident demeanor about him.  He looked like he was there to do business.  

“My name is Saul,” he introduced himself to Steve with a handshake and Steve stood up from his stool to be eye level with him.  “I’m looking for Steve Harrington.”

“You found him,” Steve rolled his neck, wondering what he could possibly want from him.  

Saul gave a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes. 

By then you were at the bar, acting like you were busy so that you could eavesdrop.

“What’s this about?” Steve pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.  

“Well, it would behoove you to give me a moment of your time,” he moved one side of his suit jacket back to shove his hand in his pocket, rocking back on his heels.  

“I have some business to discuss with you on behalf of Charlene Gregson.”

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

He vaguely registered the sound of the loud pipes from the motorcycles rolling up to Margie’s diner, but he was having a late lunch with a business associate and didn’t pay much attention to it.  He preferred white tablecloth lunch meetings, but in Hawkins there weren’t many choices.  Their BLT was unbeatable though, as was the chocolate cream pie.  He’d have to calculate them both into his low-carb diet and spend extra time at the gym in the morning.  

He had his back to the door, making notes in his date book as the man across from him spoke over the sound of clattering dishes and silverware.  

He felt the shadows pass over the table, but he figured it was a group on the way to sit at a booth further down.  

But they came to a halt and loomed there, smelling of leather and tobacco.

John glanced over the top of his reading glasses at his companion first and saw that the color had drained from his face.  

There were four members of the Coffin Kings glaring down at them.  

Eddie frowned at the man with John and jerked his thumb to the side.  “Get up,” he said.  “Find somewhere else to be, I need to talk to your friend here.”

Devlin sank into the booth behind John while Van stood across the aisle flipping his butterfly knife, and Lucas stayed next to Eddie.

“Now, hold on just a—” John began to protest, about to get to his feet, but Lucas clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pushed him back down with calm, steady force.

His companion’s eyes darted from Eddie to John a few times before he gathered his things in a rush, tucking all of his papers under his arm, and shimmied past Van while holding his breath.  It was clear he had no intention of going to wait at another table, he was down the row of booths and out the front door in a flash.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie sank into the seat across from John, wallet chain dragging on the vinyl as he settled in, stretching his arms wide along the back of the bench.  

Lucas turned his back on the two but stood in the same spot, feet planted wide, hands in his pockets, blocking John from leaving.

With a resolute nod, John put his pen down.  “Have we met? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure—”

“Cut the crap, man,” Eddie huffed with a lazy grin and hooded eyes.  “You know exactly who I am.”

John took his glasses off and tucked them inside his jacket pocket.  “Fair enough. How can I help you?”

Eddie plucked a pack of smokes out of the front pocket of his cut and motioned for Devlin to toss him a lighter.

“This is a no smoking section,” John reminded him, pointing to the sign on the wall with a red line through a cigarette.

Eddie stared at him as he lit the end and sucked in his cheeks until the cherry glowed orange. 

He waited until after a generous exhale to speak, directing the smoke into John’s leftover pie.  

“You see, John—can I call you John? I’ve been really…patient when it comes to this infatuation you have with my girl.  More patient than you deserve, I think.”

John clicked his tongue.  “Now, you misunderstand me, I—”

“I haven’t misunderstood shit,” Eddie scoffed a laugh. 

The waitress came over, and John was sure she was going to tell him to put his cigarette out, but instead she just gave him the most flirtatious smile.  “You want some coffee, hun? You hungry?”

Eddie finished taking another drag and winked at her.  “Just coffee for me, darlin’,” and then he gestured to the other Coffin Kings. “Get these boys whatever they want and wrap it up to go.  It’s on John’s tab.”

Once she was gone, Eddie continued.  “Here’s what’s gonna happen, slick,” he reached over to tap the ash out on John’s plate.  “Once she finishes this painting, you’re gonna to pay her more than what you initially offered, and then you’re never going to see her or talk to her ever again.  Comprendo?”

John used the back of his fingers to push the plate a few inches away, dabbing the sides of his mouth with his napkin.  “My offer for her to run my gallery in Chicago had no devious intentions, I assure you.  I genuinely believe she is that talented.”

Eddie ground his teeth, jaw muscles bulging.  “She’s beyond talented, you got that right, but she doesn’t want to work for you.  You’re a creep.  Throwing money and big promises around to get what you want.  I know your type.”

“My type?” 

“Has your wife ever mentioned me?” Eddie inquired, exhaling into John’s face.

He watched John visibly go rigid.  

Rhonda set Eddie’s coffee cup on a saucer down in front of him with extra creamer and poured him a steaming cup.

John cleared his throat.  “I think it would be in her best interest—”

“You don’t know what’s best for her,” Eddie bit.  “Who are you, her fucking dad?”

He’d said it a bit too loud and a few people from other tables craned their necks to follow the sound.  

Eddie leaned forward, whispering tensely.  “I don’t think I have to tell you that I have friends in low places. People who will do what I say at the drop of a hat.  You think you can hide behind your money?  You’re wrong.  The people who pump your gas and make your food and clean your bathroom?  They’re all with me. You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.  If you fuck with me on this, if you seek my girl out after I’ve told you not to?  Well, then, I hope you like dentures sweetheart because I’m gonna pull your perfect, pearly teeth out one by one.”

By the time he was done, his hand had curled into a fist on the table.  He spread the ringed fingers out wide and then made the fist again, making John look at it.

Eddie snubbed out his smoke in John’s pie with a sizzle and then settled back in his seat, relaxing his shoulders.  He cocked an eyebrow up.  “Are we good?”

John sat back as well.  “We’re good,” he acknowledged stiffly, adjusting his suit jacket.

Eddie slapped the table and gave John a wink.  “Well, this was fun,” he chuckled.  “We should catch up more often.”

He took a quick gulp of his coffee and slid out of the booth.  

He stopped to bend over and whisper, “don’t forget to tip well, slick,” in John’s ear on his way out.  

—-------

By the time Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer, swatting away plumes of second-hand smoke as he went, everyone knew that Steve was going to be a dad again.  Even the new customers who’d barely just walked in the door that evening.  

Astrid had prepared for this.

One of the many complicated reasons she’d waited more than a week to tell him was because she’d known that, if he knew, he’d be announcing it to everyone he passed by on the street.

Steve jumped from his stool and hugged Eddie.  “I’ve got great news, man,” he clapped Eddie a few times on the arm, over the thick leather jacket he had on.  

Eddie had been on his way across the room to you when his friend stopped him, so the sudden affection took him off guard.  “I like good news,” he caught your eye over Steve’s shoulder and smirked.  

Steve let him know that he was going to be a dad again, which Eddie assumed would happen sooner than later, but he was surprised and delighted to know that Astrid was the mom.  They both knew that she’d been told it would be nearly impossible for her to conceive.  

Steve leaned in.  “This proves it, man, I have a magic dick.”

“Sure you do,” Eddie scoffed, patting Steve on the cheek a few times.  “Only took you 15 years.”

Before you could greet him, Eddie was already in front of you, pulling you flush to his body.  He started to walk and you took backwards steps to stay with him.  “Can you take your break right now?”

“I wasn’t going to for another hour but—”

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.  

“Um, okay, well,” you glanced over at Shana and she waved you off.  

His mouth found yours the second you were obscured in the dark hallway.  You figured he’d be escorting you out to the alley where you usually took your breaks with him so he could smoke, but this time, he pulled you into one of the two unisex bathrooms and locked it behind him. The bulbs inside were red, and it set an eerie, bloodwashed glow.

“This place sees a lot of action,” you mumbled into his kiss as he worked your skirt up so that he could take a handful of the meat of your ass.  “I like to call it Steve’s Office.”

Before you knew what was happening, he was hoisting you up onto the sink counter with a grunt.  Your thighs and bum were fully exposed now, covered in fishnet stockings, and one of his hands held your face while the other rubbed a knuckle over the heat between your legs.  Your panties and stockings were preventing him from going further, but not for long.  

You were about to protest, to say you had to get back to work, or to remind him how many women Steve had probably railed in that very spot, but

Fuck

And just when you softened with a shaky moan, he kissed a trail down your jaw and throat, with a few nibbles in between.

You whimpered, spreading your legs further apart, Doc Marten booted feet locking onto his thighs to keep him close.

“I have something..” smooch “...that I need…” smooch “...to ask you…” smooch

“Right now?” You palmed his hard length over his denim and then went to work at undoing his belt buckle. “We only have 10 minutes.”

He leaned back, letting his cherry bitten lips hover there at eye level.  His bangs were getting too long, he needed a trim, and you brushed them to the side, off of his eyebrows. 

“Do you want to move in with me?”

You blinked a few times. “Into your apartment?”

“No, no,” eager lips found your mouth again and his thumb rubbed circles over the taut nub of your nipple through your shirt.  “The big farmhouse down on Marigold Road.  I pointed it out once when we drove by.”

You stopped.  “The old Ferguson place? Aren’t there people already living there?”

“Not anymore,” he could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and he hissed, grinding his erection against your thigh. “I want to buy it. For us.”

In your desperation, you reached down and clawed at the section of black fishnet that was keeping him from you, ripping a little further down your thigh than you’d intended to.

Eddie kissed down the front of you on the way to his knees, and then your underwear was pulled to one side and his tongue was on your swollen clit, rolling in circles there.  

You dug your fingers into his hair with one hand and supported yourself on the ledge with the other.  He sucked a few times, and then his tongue went inside of you, and you bit your lip, squirming to try and repress a scream.  

“That is a big step,” you gasped. “Moving in together.”

For the longest time, you couldn’t see yourself living with anyone other than a roommate ever again.

He hummed on your now soaked cunt and then kitten licked it a few times.  “I’m ready. Are you?”

You didn’t respond at first because your eyes were rolling back in your head, so he popped off to get to his feet, his chin glistening.  He spread your thighs further apart to make room for his hips and undid his zipper.

His pupils bloomed wide as he searched your lustful eyes, insecurities making his heart rate quicken.  “Are you not ready? I mean, do you not want that? Is it too soo—”

But then you silenced him with your mouth, lapping up your juices from his chin, moving away a strand of his hair that had stuck there. “I want to see the inside. Could we go look at it together?”

“Yeah we can,” he pushed his boxers down and rubbed the tip of his leaking cock along your slit. “I’ll call the real estate dude in the morning.”

You clung to his neck, jaw going slack as he sank in. “I’ll have to check with Charlie.”

He chucked into the kiss at you mentioning your cat, and then he was stretching you out, easing his way in, aching to be one with you.

“Deeper…more,” you whimpered, and then you each let out a muffled cry when he filled you to the hilt, flush inside of your pulsing heat.

He rested his forehead on yours and began to work his hips, thrusting deep and retreating with a curl of his hips so that you could feel every vein, every ridge, but then you were clenching around him, and he sped up with a curse, a thumb working at your clit.

“This…fuck, I’m going to cum so hard inside of you,” he admitted with a huff.  His belt buckle clinked against his zipper with every thrust.  “You want that? You want all of me?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” You whined, clinging to him as stars exploded behind your eyes. 

His strong fingers dug into your flesh to hold your legs in place, and after a few more shaking pumps, he was spilling inside of you, each of you a moaning mess of “I love yous”, clawing at the other to be closer.  

Someone banged on the door just as the two of you were catching your breath and Eddie was still inside of you.

“Get lost!” Eddie yelled, not caring if it was a customer.

“Are you two having a tea party in there? Cabbage Patch meeting perhaps?” 

It was Steve, and then you could hear his ruckus laughter as he banged another few times just to be cheeky.

You adjusted your underwear back into place, and Eddie fastened his jeans before he helped you down off the counter.  You pulled your skirt down and checked yourself in the mirror.

Yikes.

The rip down your inner thigh was painfully obvious.  You wondered if shredding them in a few more places would make it more of “a look”, but then realized that the lighting in the Hammer was not great, and it wasn’t unheard of for someone to accidentally rip their stockings at work.  

But what about when Eddie’s seed started to drip down your leg?

“You go,” you shooed him away as he stood there adjusting the collar of his jacket, waiting for you. “I need to pee.”

He was looking at himself in the mirror, rubbing lipstick off his cheek, but then he turned just before grabbing for the door.  “If you don’t want to, you know, live together right away, I get it.  But with Katie moving in with Robin and all, I figured—”

“You figured we could be roommates?” 

He smirked, giving a bashful shrug.  “A little more than that, maybe.  Roommates with benefits.”

“Yeah?” You sank against his chest, forever helpless to his gravitational pull.  “What kind of benefits?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rubbed the sides of your arms with his calloused hands. “I’ll make you pancakes.”

“You think you can make pancakes?” 

“Baby, I've told you before, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

—-------

“WAYNE!”

Uncle entered the Hammer and everyone screamed his name like he was Norm in an episode of Cheers.

It had been a while since he dropped by unannounced, and he looked better than ever.

Still much thinner than he had been the year before, and it was hard for him to catch his breath sometimes, but his eyes were bright, and he wore a soft smile more often than not.  

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

Devlin had been sitting on the stool at the bar next to Eddie, but Eddie was quick to tell him to take a hike when Wayne showed up.

“What did the doctor say?” He asked as his uncle straddled the stool and got comfortable.  He was in a green and white plaid work shirt and had decided to leave his Coffin Kings leather at home.  

Wayne gave a single nod and patted around for his smokes out of habit, even though he’d given it up when he started treatment.  “Just heard Steve's gonna be a dad again. He better treat her right, that's all I can say." It was obvious he was damn near giddy at the thought, Eddie could see it in the way a smile kept tugging at the sides of his mouth. "I’m sick of talking about doctors and my goddamn condition. Want to forget about it for a night.”

Eddie respected that, and tapped the bar to order him one of those non-alcoholic beers that they kept cold specifically for Wayne and one other regular patron.  

You barely had a chance to give Wayne a shoulder squeeze when Robin burst in through the door, frantically scanning the crowd.  There was a dancer on the backstage, working her way down the poll, and Steve had gone over to remind a few rowdy customers to behave themselves.  Robin rushed over and met him halfway, in front of the glowing jukebox.

He found no comfort in the way she looked like she’d been crying.

“What’s going on?” Felt like his heart literally stopped beating in his chest. “Are you okay?”

“The spare key,” she held her palm out.  “You used it last time and now I’m locked out of the house.”

He felt around in his back pocket.  “Where are your regular keys?”

She rolled her eyes, bouncing in frustration. “I lost them somewhere, okay? At work maybe, I’m not sure, but Oliver just threw a fit, I’m on my period, and we’re all just in a really bad mood and want to go home.”

“Alright, alright, here take my key,” he wrestled it off the metal ring to hand it to her.  “Just remember to leave the back door unlocked for me.  Is Oliver in the car?”

“No, he’s at Katie’s place with her, I needed to take a drive alone so that I could scream,” she snatched the key from him.

“Shit, you had me worried for a second.”

“Sorry,” admittedly, she felt like she was overreacting to something so small and fixable, but more likely her tears were from an accumulation of things.  Once the panic spike subsided, her eyes landed on half of a white envelope peeking out of the pocket of his Coffin Kings leather, right above his TAZ insignia.  She always teased him and said his official nickname should’ve been Dingus.

“What’s this?” It looked like it had some official lettering in the corner, and she plucked it out to look closer.

They made their way back to the front so he could keep an eye on the door, and she frowned at the name of a law office in the corner. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he shrugged.  “Some douchey lawyer brought it by, said it was from Charlene.  It was busy when he came in, so he gave me that to read and told me to call him in the morning.”

“Fucking Charlene?” She balked.  “What, is she suing you for not wanting to be her boyfriend?”  

“I haven’t had time to open in, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

A group of people came in, and two looked like they were 16, so Steve carded them.  

Robin ripped the top of the envelope open. You stepped in front of her on your way to a table, and the two of you collided.

You said a quick apology and were about to ask if she wanted a drink, when Shana shouted across the bar to tell Robin the phone was for her.

“It’s your boss from the motel,” Shana continued, holding her hand over the bottom half of the receiver.

Robin gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “She’s going to ask me to work a double shift tomorrow, I just know it.”

She shoved the paperwork at you that she’d just unfolded, but not yet read.  “Hold this for me? Be right back.”

“Oh—okay,” you had the paperwork pressed flat to your chest as you made your way over to stand at Eddie’s shoulder.  He was talking to Wayne, but he reached back and squeezed your thigh in greeting.  

You hadn’t meant to look, to eavesdrop on their private business.

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

Charlene’s name was the first thing to catch your eye

And then, The Velvet Hammer

You took a few long blinks, unsure if what you were looking at was real.

You mouthed a few of the words quietly just to make sure you were reading them correctly.

The way you froze made Eddie curious, and he turned his head to see what you were doing.

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

“It’s, uh—” you stammered.  “It’s Steve’s.  You’re never going to believe this, but um—”

“Can I see it?” 

He tried to meet your eyes as he took it from you, but you couldn’t seem to look away from the words on the paper.  Your mind was reeling.

Robin returned just as Eddie held the papers out in front of him, and she steadied herself with a hand on his back to read over his shoulder.

Steve meandered over; his curiosity officially piqued at what you were all huddled together about.  

“What’s it say?”  He had a smoke bobbing between his lips and his hands in his pockets.  “Did I win the lottery or somethin’?”

He chuckled, but then you all turned to him in unison, unblinking, mouths agape.

“Yeah man,” a smile curled on Eddie’s lips.  “Actually, you kinda did.”

—------

Charlene was on the plane to Hawaii when she read the newspaper article.

A glass of first-class champagne and a window to her right, an empty aisle seat to her left.  

There he was, right on the front page of The Hawkins Post: 

Steve.

In a bigger city, a business changing hands could fly under the radar, but in a small town, it was newsworthy when a local biker and bouncer becomes a business owner overnight.

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

The cover photo was of him out on the sidewalk, standing next to the red door entrance to the Velvet Hammer.  Shana was in the photo with him, as were Robin, Jackie, Erika, and you.  

Not pictured was Eddie Munson, whom the article mentioned Steve had chosen to take on as a partner.

The article talked about their plans for the Hammer, including bringing in a tattoo studio to the vacant storage space next door.  

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

It wasn’t until the end of the article that she got the wind knocked out of her:

“Steve and his longtime partner, Astrid Bautista, are expecting their first child together in the spring.”

She hadn’t expected that.

She had to look away and take a generous gulp of champagne.  

Her eyes got a little wet and her vision blurred, but she read it again.

“Did you miss me?” Billy sank into the seat next to her with his sunglasses on and a white shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist of his jeans. He smiled around the pink gum he was chewing and craned his neck to see what she was reading, but she folded the paper hastily and turned it over.

She didn’t answer him, she just stared out the window over the clouds and tried to forget she ever felt a thing.  

------

authors note: wow, we did it. This is my first fic series to finish ever 😭 If you've made it this far, you know how much this story and the characters have evolved since those first couple chapters. If this were an actual novel, I'd go back and make it all sync up, give it more continuity, and reveal nicknames like War Machine and Taz earlier in the game. But the cool thing about posting this way for a fandom is that you, the reader, are able to see in real time how the characters develop a mind of their own and take over the story in a way not even the writer can predict. In this case specifically, you can also see how I went from having no idea how to write a reader insert fic to becoming more and more comfortable with it.

I never had any intention of making Charlene a villain. She was literally based off of the wealthy woman in the Bruce Springsteen video for his song I'm on Fire. Just a gal who had a crush on her mechanic. Some of you voiced that you wished Charlene could get killed, or hurt somehow, and for those of you, you can trust that she is hurting. Knowing that Steve will be having a family with someone else is a deep wound.

I've had several requests for a separate biker Steve story with a new reader, and until two chapters ago, I fully intended to follow through on that. But the more I wrote him with Astrid, the more I felt it was wrong to keep them apart. If you are a fan of their love story, I highly recommend visiting THIS masterlist from @texasblues who created Astrid's character. But I do plan to bring a slightly different biker Steve back in a new au, stay tuned 🥰

This of course, is not the end. I plan to drop an epilogue on you all when you least expect it, and it will take place a year or two after the events here. If you are a friend of mine, you will laugh at this because whenever I say I'm going to write an epilogue, I never do. But this time I mean it.

I can't express in words how much your comments, asks, and messages about this story have meant, and will always mean to me. I was living through one of the darkest years of my life when I joined tumblr back in April and started writing this fic, and you all have held me together, whether you realize it or not. I love you and am deeply grateful for you all.

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

[the-real-treasure]

Treasure Treasure!

An OPLA Sanji x Reader

Master List Here

Previous Chapter: Whispered Wishes and Demanded Dishes

Chapter Four: Big Big Top Trouble and the Risks of Show Business

Summary: In a big top in a ruined town, a man claims a map he didn't steal, steals a hat that was never his and when things don't go his way, ends up in pieces. Just another night in show biz.

Trigger Warnings: Trigger Warnings: Threats and descriptions of violence, Reader's Devil Fruit power is overwhelming and overstimulating, yelling, torture, drowning, being dowsed in sea water is akin to being drugged Word Count: 6,344 **Edited 12/09/24**

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The only sound was the clicking of the safe, echoing across the empty ocean. At this time of night the water was barren of any other life, only the crew of your small sailing boat awake.

Luffy hung upside down above your heads, with you hovering next to Nami as she works. She glares up at him.

"Can you not do... that?" 

"Sorry. It's hard to sit still." He dropped his hat on to the deck and flipped down with it. Nami had turned her head away from him and was now staring at you.

"I noticed, you both have that problem." She muttered, eyes narrowing at your bobbing leg, heel hitting the deck in a continuous thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. You didn't hear her, staring at the deck and gnawing at the hard scar tissue peeking over the bandages at your thumb. Luffy stood and fixed his hat atop his head.

"I'm just feeling so.. so piratey!"

"Yeah? Well, you're gonna end up feeling watery if I have to throw you overboard. STOP. BOUNCING. YOUR LEG!" She gave you a hard whack. "I told you both I need absolute silence." You scooted away from her.

"I wasn't even doing anything."

"We know, we know," Luffy clambered up on the railing of the boat and began walking between the rigging, "Absolute silence. It's just that," You followed him and grabbed his leg nervously as he leaned over the bowspirit of the ship, "this is my first real pirate score. Can you believe that?" He twisted round to look back at the pair of you.

"Yeah, I can, because you told me right after you asked me, yet again to join your crew. I can't believe Y/n isn't a pirate though." You sighed.

"Again, why do you think that?"

"I dunno, maybe a combination of the suspicious bandages, the goofy outfit and the intense rage while fighting, how are you anything else?"

"I work in a restaurant, I literally just clean dishes and do stock orders." She eyes you suspiciously, and you shrug, "And occasionally tell rich clients they suck incredibly."

"And punch Marines!" Luffy chimed in helpfully.

Yeah, and punch Marines. Also," you flipped your jacket collar and pulled the flared skirt up to reveal the shimmery silk lining, "I have it on very good authority that I look cute."

"Authority from who, a blind seal?"

"I'll kill you and hide your body somewhere no one will ever find it."

"In the ridiculous giant pockets on your trousers?" You stuck your arms elbow deep into said pockets and glare at her.

"THEY'RE USEFUL FOR PUTTING THINGS IN!"

"Okaaaaay," Luffy calmed patting your shoulders as you snarled down at the orange-haired woman. "I was just thinking about how, when we're not fighting, we make a pretty good team." Luffy pulled you along to the mast before releasing you and leaning down over Nami's head to listen with her. "Is it open yet?"

"No." She gritted out. And can you please give me some quiet and some space?" With a whack, she knocks Luffy's hat off his head, the wind catching it. You and Luffy both lunge to catch it before it blows into the ocean, and you grab at the back of his shirt as he dangles over the side, arm outstretched. He had caught it, just. Pulling him back on to the deck he calls back to Nami.

"Hey. Not cool. Don't mess with my hat."

"Why do you care so much about that old thing anyway? It looks like you fished it out of the trash." He sits down inspecting it.

"One man's trash is another man's treasure."

"Will you three knock it off? I'm trying to take a nap" You glare into the small covered section at the back of the boat where Zoro was laying, having migrated across the boat a few times for prime napping position, hands behind his head.

"Oh I'm sorry, were we interrupting your beauty sleep?"

"Don't like what you see? Look away." You gagged and pretended to vomit over the edge of the ship. As you straighten, you hear the lock thunk and a gasp from Nami as she finally opens it. Twisting the handles, she pulls the safe open to reveal a map tube atop a confidential document and a bounty poster neatly rolled and tied with string.

"You did it!" Luffy breathed excitedly and she smiles at him, pulling out the tube and popping it open. She unfurled the paper and revealed the map depicting the portion of the Grand Line bordered by the East Blue, the islands littered across it labelled in neat but flowy script. Zoro walks up behind you all and pulls open the safe to look for himself.

"That's it? Isn't there supposed to be gold inside a safe? Or jewels? Huh, Treasure Treasure?" He rolls his head to look at you and you curl your lip at him. Nami scoffs.

"This is more valuable than gold. It's knowledge. This is a map to the Grand Line."

"The Grand Line! Ah," Luffy fixes his hat, "The Grand Line is just right... where is it exactly?" Nami looks between the pair of you.

"You're going there, but you two don't know where it is?"

"I know, it's," Your body pivots in place and you end up pointing south again. "Somewhere over that way." You shrug, "Just don't know, the specifics like."

"Guess I'll need a navigator on my crew." Luffy replied gleefully. Nami rolled her eyes and turned away.

Pulling out some chalk and sitting at the small hanging table, she started drawing.

"The seas are divided into four quadrants. East Blue, North Blue, West, South. This," she taps the squiggly drawing she had made, "thin strip of land that circles the globe is called the Red Line, and this," she draws a line curving though the centre of her world circle, "band across the middle is the Grand Line. A treacherous stretch of ocean with bigger islands, bigger cities, bigger pirates. Flush with riches and ripe for the picking."

"And that's where we're gonna find the One Piece!" Luffy cheered.

"I've taken out a lot of pirates looking for that thing. What is it? Like, a big diamond or something?"

"It's Gold Roger's treasure. He hid it somewhere in the Grand Line. All in one piece." Nami smacks the table.

"It's a myth. The reason no one's found it in 22 years is that it doesn't exist." Luffy smiled.

"Can't wait to see the look on your face when we find it."

An explosion ripples across the water, and red lights up the sky, pouring in through the small windows on either side of you.

"Is that the Marines?"

"How did they find us again?"

You all leave the cabin and stare up into the sky as red smoke starts falling around you, the scarlet cloud completely encompassing the sailing boat. Another whistling fire work cracks above you as the smoke starts to settle around you.

"This smoke smells weird." Nami and Zoro drop to the ground and Luffy runs back inside the small shelter. Without the door closed, hiding away is pointless, but you ignore his movement as you lean against the wall, head swimming and eyes watering as you peer desperately for your assailants through the thick bloody fog surrounding you. Dizziness overtakes you and you stumble backwards, falling limp to the deck and are stuck, watching with rapt attention as Luffy takes the map tube and slides it down his throat.

That's the last thing you see before the blackness dancing at the corner of your eyes as consciousness leaves you. Glowing gold pupils and swirling aqua irises snuff out like candles leaving only a milky white, and everything goes dark.

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You blink open your eyes to the wood of a crate. All of you were cramped into the wooden box, just enough room to stand between the four of you. Luffy leans over and shakes Zoro's leg while you and Nami shift back upright.

(helphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelphelp)

Although, it was just the four of you, there were more people outside. Their energy rippled through you and the air around you, their pleas fizzing at the tips of your ears. You were somewhere inside, with a few hundred people, and something was wrong.

"Hey." He pushes in close to Zoro's ear and whispers his name. Understandably, he wakes and flinches away from the proximity. He shuffles for a moment, then pauses.

"They took my swords."

"And my rucksack, ugh, with all my navigation gear." You and Luffy grab at your coat and hat respectively, both sighing in relief when they're still there.

"They didn't take my hat."

"Or my coat." Nami stared at you with narrow eyes.

(helphelphelphelpelphelphelphelp)

Your eyes were starting to water and your ears were ringing. There were too many people, all wanting the same thing.

"Yeah, small blessings. Damn it, we've lost the map." You can barely make her out as she speaks.

"No!" Luffy shoots up straight and bashes his head into the lid of the crate. "No, we didn't. It's in a safe place." He pats his stomach and Nami stares.

"Ew."

"Yea, not pleasant to watch happen, I'll tell you that. Hey!" You shouted as Zoro punches the wooden wall.

"Stop. Stop that, stop that!"

"What? I'm trying to find a way out."

"We've been captured, you absolute mossball. We've no idea who or what is out there. Or how many." you snap, head starting to pound as the people around you continued their panicked subconscious wishing.

"They're right, we need a plan."

"I don't need a plan, I just need to beat the hell out of every Marine I see."

"Hey, everyone, relax. We're fine."

"We're not fine. The Marines will throw us in jail if we're lucky. Execute us if they don't."

"They-they're not Marines. Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates." You and Nami stare at Luffy as his words sink in.

"How does that make this fine?" Nami agrees.

"Yeah, because it's such better news."

"No, he's right. Marines have training. Pirates are easier to kill." You spin round to him.

"What pirates have you been hunting exactly? Pirates win against Marines constantly, that's why your title even exists!"

"Shanks used to say not every situation can be solved with violence." You watch him lower himself to the ground.

"Who the hell is Shanks?"

"Wait, Red-Haired Shanks? Of the Red Hair Pirates?!" You stare at him aghast.

"Yeah! You know him?"

"Barely. Are you mental? He's notorious! And hardly ever pays his tab!" Luffy smiled up at you.

"I said, who the hell is Shanks?" Zoro repeats.

"Don't worry about that. We don't need to fight. I can talk to them. Pirate to pirate."

"That won't work."

"Why not?"

"To start, you're not a pirate."

"Yes. I am. I have a crew." And he threw his thumb back towards you.

"No. You are some stretchy guy in a tattered hat, dragging around a blood-thirsty magic compass that barely knows what direction to point." You stare at her.

"Why are you insulting me, I'm not even talking?"

"You exist near me, that's enough."

"We're a different type of pirate."

"Pirates are pirates. There's only one kind."

The lid of the crate is ripped from above you as bright lights shine in. All around you, circus music blared and you all watched in a stupor while performers circled you and the box was lifted and removed by them. A fire breather is pushed in front of you and the audience cheers grow louder. Nami pushes Luffy's hands down from where they are applauding as well.

A man comes marching into the centre of the big top, roaring no.

"No, no! No! No! Stop clapping! No, stop! It's all wrong!" Complete silence falls in the big top tent. "The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance." He waved for the spot light to shine on to him, bright light revealing his swollen red nose, blue hair and clown costume. Uniform? "And where, oh, where was the dancing lion?" He got into the face of the terrified performer wearing a lion hood, who cowered away.

"Hey I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town. You're the clown guy. Um, uh... Binky, right?" You just barely caught the cackle before it left you, hiding it in a coughing fit instead. The captain snarled at you both.

"Buggy. Buggy the Clown." He said with a showman's smile. "Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester."

"Wow. You have a lot of names." Buggy smiled mockingly at your captain before turning on you.

"This one, this one knows who I am right kid?" He leers down at you as you straighten. "Go ahead, tell your little friends," he swirls his finger in the direction of the other three, "who I am."

"Oh I'll tell 'em alright." Turning to smile at them, you say, "he's been barred from Baratie since it was founde-URK" He grabbed you by the neck and gave you a harsh shake. Your gut scrunches as the feeling in your chest pulses.

He drops you back to your feet, your eyes milky and irises flashing as his wish flashes through you. Hands flapping at his sides, he rounds back on your captain.

(A ship travels through the Grand Line, a black haired captain and moustached Jolly Roger at the helm)

"I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." You winced back to reality for a moment as the audience gasps, side steeping away from Luffy as you rub at your neck.

"What'd you just say?"

"Just that everyone knows who you are."

(A grand podium towers over a crowd, the captain laughing as he insights adventure amongst the people below)

"NOSE?!" He screams, lunging forward and taking a grip of Luffy's face. You go to defend him, but pause as the circus performers start to move in around you all. You were surrounded. You grab hold of your wrist as it tries to lift in a point, finger outstretched and hands shaking. "Are you making fun of my nose?"

"Weww..." Luffy's cheeks and lips were smushed, making him hard to make out. "I wasn't. But now tha you mention it, is that thing fo real?" He reaches up to touch it, but his hand is slapped away by the clown. Another gasp rings out from the audience.

"What's real is I've been scheming for months, to steal that map from old Axe-Hand Moron..." he pushes Luffy away. "Only to find out, that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right out under my no-NO! It's in my head now. Ah!" He growls and storms off.

"Hey! I'm not a nobody. I'm Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be King of the Pirates."

(Two boys stand in the rain, one blue haired, the other red. A treasure left for another to find)

Buggy laughs, "OH! Well that's funny" the audience begin laughing pathetically along with the pirates only to be called to a stop. "My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East Blue has ever known. I am destined to find the One Piece."

(And when I do)

"And when I do..."

(I will be)

"I will be king."

"No, you won't, 'cause I'm gonna find it first."

"You? Don't make me laugh." There's no enthusiasm as the audience is riled into laughing again. Buggy turns on them. "I said don't make me laugh!"

"All right, listen up. I'm Roronoa Zoro. Drop your weapons now, and I may let you live." Buggy chuckles at him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight." Metal screeches as the light is shifted back to him. "Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale." He pulls back his hand, revealing knives held between each knuckle. "My freaks put quite a bit of rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can't reward them with that map... I suppose I'll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."

"Wait. Wait, what if I have something else to offer you?" Nami steps up in front of him. "Something more valuable than the map? What if I give you a new freak for your crew, and!" She reaches back, grabbing and digging her nails into the skin of your arm as you keep it held close, "A magic compass, that can point you right where you wanna go? A pair of rare talents. The most spectacular act in all of the East Blue. Besides you, of course." She laughs. Buggy raises his eyebrows at her. Your chest begins to pound again.

(FREEFREEFREEFREEFREEFREE)

"Go on." Snatching the hat from Luffy, she tosses it into the air, before throwing you headlong into the clown pirate as she makes a mad dash for the door. Your arm snaps up, finger pointing and strike Buggy in the face as you stand, frozen, your eyes misty and her energy rattles in your chest.

(A grove of orange trees and a windmill made from the peels)

Luffy's hand flys into the air, arm stretching after to catch his beloved treasure.

(A blue-haired girl chases her little sister, both squealing with laughter.)

Buggy stares at you both in shock. Nami is dragged back in by two of Buggy's pirates and is released in front of the captain.

"What did you do?! What did you do to their town? You destroyed everything!" Buggy is leaning against a barrel mindlessly.

"Not everything." He shrugs. " I let 'em keep their hands." As one, the entire audience begins to clap. "Okay. Here end the theatrics." All the spot lights dim and swirl down to focus on your crew. "I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said rubber boy? That it was in a safe place?" Luffy's eyes flicker away from him. "Don't look so surprised! I've got eyes and ears everywhere. So... Please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room." The performers grab Zoro and Nami and drag them into the darkness, leaving the rest of the crew to surround you, Luffy and their pacing captain. "I am gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal. And, uh, work out just where you were pointing, little compass spectacular."

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Luffy screams as he’s pulled tighter on the stretching apparatus. His yells turn to a laugh, and you stare, gobsmacked, at the length of his arms and legs, pulled taut across the centre ring. Buggy knelt on the ground near one of the stretched limbs, not far from where you dangled from the roof, arms suspended above you, toes barely touching the ground.

"I want you to think of this like an artistic exercise, because pain leads to art." You felt your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"Good grief."

"And art reveals truth. But there's only one truth I need from this exercise. Where is my map?"

"Truthfully? I'm-I'm kind of hungry. Don't circuses have cotton candy?"

Buggy laughs and straightens with a groan. "What could you possibly need that map for anyway? You've got your magic compass," he wiggles his fingers at your dangling form. "You wouldn't last five minutes in the Grand Line."

"I already told you. I'm gonna be King of the Pir-"

"BORING!" The clown screamed in his face. He gestures to the man at the winch, "Let's go another ten feet." The rope groans as they go through the pulleys, tugging Luffy's arms out further and further.

"You can stretch me all you want. I can do this alllll day."

"I'm not asking the right questions. We need to go deeper, get you out of your comfort zone. You!" He spins to where you hang. "What makes a boy want to grow up to be King of the Pirates? Tell me about him, who is he trying to impress."

"Look Bluey,"

"Buggy"

"Whatever. You're asking the wrong person, I've known him, what, two-three days, Luffy?"

"I think so?"

"Let's say three tops, and ignore how long we were in that crate. I know he likes to eat, I know he likes that hat, and I know he wants to be King of the Pirates." You dismiss the memory of the red-haired pirate, his silhouette dark against the blinding sun. Instead, you wiggle your hands hopelessly, "That's about it." Buggy waves his arm towards the roof of the tent, and you're pulled further, toes no longer brushing the floor, bones creaking in your shoulder as he stalks around your kicking legs.

"Who was it? A lost love? An absent parent? Or was it someone..." He strolled back over to your captain, and you're slowly dropped back to just about standing. "...that you worshipped? A false idol?" Luffy's eyes moved away from the clowns stare and a smile grows on his painted lips. "That's it." He snatches the hat from Luffy's head and walks away.

"HEY! Give me back my hat."

"I used to know a pirate that wore a hat just like this. Red Haired Shanks."

"You knew Shanks?"

"Ginger? Three scars, left eye? We served together on a pirate crew when we were about your age. For a time, I even thought we were friends. Until he betrayed me. Just like all the others." He laughs quietly to himself. "He wanted to keep ME out of the spotlight! He wanted to keep my star from shining too brightly!" He pauses, staring at the hat, before turning to look at Luffy. "Is that what he did to you, Rubber Boy? Did Shanks betray you too?"

"Don't talk about him that way."

"Aahhhhhhh. Now we're finally getting to the truth. Stretch him until he breaks."

The man on the winch wheel hesitates. "Please, don't make me do this."

"I invite you to take part in the splendour that is my show and this is how you repay me? With a no?"

"You've destroyed our town. Made us your prisoners. Isn't that enough?"

"Well, maybe you'd prefer it, if I threw one of your constituents on the rack instead." He tosses Luffy's hat to the ground and moves over to the stands, approaching a little boy with open arms.  "Hey kid!" Buggy grabs the boy by the collar. "You wanna get tall fast?" You grit your teeth with a snarl and Luffy calls,

"Boogie. I'm warning you."

"It's. Buggy! And you're warning me? Now that's a laugh." He looks around disappointed. "I said that's a laugh." The lion performer holds up the LAUGH que card and the audience begins to laugh along. You and Luffy begin to pull against your restraints, you twist and flail, toes scrabbling against the dirt floor looking for any purchase on the just out of reach ground, and Luffy yells at the strain of pulling free of the ropes.

(hhelphelphelp)

(LETGO)

With a snap and a thunk, the leather binding your hands above you tears and you drop and stumble to your feet. At the same time, Luffy slips his hands from the rope and falls to the ground. Luffy clambers up and you're both glaring at the clown.

"Put him down."

(LETGO)

"But why? He's having such a great time! Aren't you junior?"  Buggy grabs a hold of the boys face and pulls it towards him. "YES!" He pantomimes the boy's voice, "THE BEST, BUGGY!" He laughs as Luffy reels his arm back for a 

"GUM GUM" the sound is like a rubber band, "PISTOL" His arm snaps forward.

And knocks Buggy's head clean of his shoulders.

The head is sent flying into the crowd, and they start to scream hysterically when it lands in a poor woman's lap. As the boys screams pick up a pitch, you scramble forward and rip the boy from the now headless body's grasp. He continues shrieking as you shuffle him up into the stands, returning him to his people and away from Buggy's still standing...

(I will be)

...not dead body.

"Well, well, well!" His head flips upright in the woman's lap. "Looks like we three have something else in common!" You join Luffy in the centre of the ring as his head pops back on to his neck.

"You ate a Devil Fruit?"

"The Chop Chop Fruit." He pulls off his long furred coat. "So you can slice me, and you can dice me! But I will always put myself back together again." And with a grunt his arms and legs disattach from his torso "Want to see what else I can do?"

Spotting movement out of the corner of your eye, you look over your shoulder to spot his disembodied hand holding a red ball. With a pop, red mist spills from it and with a one two punch, you and Luffy are back in the darkness.

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The sound of water pouring was what woke you up this time. You're in a glass tank slowly filling with water and force once, the entire world is...

(....)

Silent. No energy radiating through you. No residual whispers of people surrounding you endlessly hoping, hoping, hoping. Where the entire word thrummed with power and prayer, longing and light outlining every person, place and thing with a dream or a wish, now the world sat.

Dark, cold, silent.

Empty.

Buggy stood, staring down at you as you struggle to your knees. A thump from behind him grabs your attention. The noise is dull, like your head was wrapped with layers of cotton. You spot Luffy, also trapped in his own glass cell, also slowly being filled with the same water that was splashing over your head. You lick your lips.

It's salty.

"Don't both. It's seawater." Buggy turned from looking to you to your captain. "Hardly seems fair. All those wonderful powers rendered useless from a few splashes." He crouched down to be eye level with Luffy and you turn your head, eyeing the rows and rows of Buggy's captive audience seated in the dark around you.

(...)

Still dark. Still silent.

"Of course, you could always give me my map if you don't want to sentence your crew to dying with you in these tanks."

"My crew..." Luffy struggles to get the words out.

"Your crew?" Buggy chuckles. "You mean the ones that abandoned you? Just like Shanks did?"

"Don't." You shout over the water cascading over you, pulling his attention away for a moment. "Don't give him anything Luffy. We wouldn't abandon you! You're good, so stop projecting on him you coward of a clown!" He snorts and turns back to Luffy.

"Aww, did that make you sad?"

"They will come back for us." He answers quietly. "Y/n's right, they won't leave us here."

"No one's coming for you. Your only chance is to turn over that map, and if you do, I may have a very special place on my crew just for you."

With a grunt, Luffy begins to painfully pull himself up, snarling at the clown as he spits "Never!"

"Why not?!" Buggy smacks the glass but hurts his own hand, pulling away growling. "You're an outcast, just like the rest of us. A freak, scorned and abandoned! Join me... and you can serve the man who will become the King of the Pirates. When I have that map, I will find the One Piece, and then everyone will know my name. And they'll love me."

"Why would he choose," you call over the splashing of the water, "to serve you as King? When he's going to become it himself! You can't make people love you with the power of a position, or the fear of a title!"

"Just like you can't make them smile. I'll never give you that map."

"Well then. I guess it's curtains for you." Turning a large wheel on one of the pipes, the water starts surging from the pipes above you, filling the tanks faster and faster.

As Buggy pulls at the woven reeds of the hat, Luffy roar echoes over the waters' own, "DON'T TOUCH MY HAT!"

"What was that?" Buggy asked giggling "I-I couldn't hear you over all the drowning!"

The water is well over your head at this point, the curse of the Devil Fruit stopping you from floating. It's funny, for how happy you were that you coat was still on you when you woke up, you never knew how heavy it would get soaking wet. You can hardly blink your eyes open as you hear a 'clink' against the outside of the glass. Opening them a fraction you watch as cracks spiderweb up the panel, a roar of "WHERE ARE MY FREAKS?!" as it shatters under the pressure of the water inside. As the water spills across the ground, you are sent with it, the waves from both your and Luffy's tanks sending you skittering across the floor.

A pole stops you from going any further, and looking up, you see it is Nami's staff pushed against the ground. Grabbing your shoulder, she helps you up, keeping her eyes plastered to the cackling clown as he lifts the map tube that had finally escaped Luffy's stomach.

"Sorry about earlier," she whispers as you stand, brushing fragments of glass from your person, "the whole, selling you out to a mad clown thing."

"It's okay. I mean, it's not and I'll probably be mad for a bit 'cause that sucked, but we can say we're even for the whole, 'getting stuck dealing with Marines a second time in so many days' thing. I'm normally good at holding grudges, Sanji thinks I'm too kind to, but I think I'm just good at hiding it then he thinks. Maybe just stop actively insulting me and we'll be fine." She smiles ruefully at your blabbering and you turn to watch Zoro move towards Buggy.

"You want a piece of me? Let's see what you got."

"Zoro, he-!" But his sword had already swiped through Buggy's neck, his head bouncing up above the swing, "-'s a Devil Fruit user..." Zoro continues his advance, cutting though and across Buggy's chest, leaving smaller and smaller segments only for him to pull himself back together.

"Ha ha ha! Surprise shithead!" He twirls the tube and points it menacingly at your face, "Stop ruining this for me." Before his laughter begins anew, body separating more and more, pieces spiralling through the air of the big top as the light, the colour, the sound begins to return around you. It's back to overwhelming, but its what you're used to.

(HelpUsHelpUs) (StopHimStopStopHim) (Help)

You, Nami and Zoro end up back to back to back as the spinning segments surround and push you closer together.

"How I am supposed to slice a guy that's already in pieces?"

"This is not part of the plan."

"There was a plan?!" You're all yelling over the shrieking cackles of the dismembered Buggy as he spun around and around you.

You are pushed, punched, knocked and bumped over and over as the aerial swarm of body parts loop about, not one of you spared as Nami falls into the seating area, Zoro sends one of the tanks skidding on its side, you are rushed headlong into one of the support poles, knocking into a few empty prop crates as you go. Staggering to your feet, you watch as he reassembles and approaches the just barely upright Luffy.

"Well would you look at that. Somebody escaped my Tank of Doom. Well I'll be back to finish you off. Right after I tear apart your sad excuse for a crew. Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"You can dump seawater on me, and I'll let it slide. But don't you ever threaten my friends." You peer around the pole as, with a yell, he punches forward an elastic punch, knocking a perfect circle in Buggy's chest, which easily reinserts itself, leaving no trace behind.

"So you want to die first?" He pulls out his hands, all knuckles armed with a knife each, and you can't escape the thought of how cool it looks. "Be my guest." His arms and legs separate from the torso, and then the elbows and knees, then wrists and ankles, becoming a chain of arms and legs. "CHOP-CHOP CANNON!"

His hands, still laced with knives, along with the rest of his arms and legs going pelting at Luffy, who springs and flips and dodges through them with ease to knock into Buggy's torso. He doesn't stay there long though, as a swift kick from a disembodied foot, sends him rolling in your direction, hitting the same pole. A knife follows swiftly, stabbing through his beloved hat and pinning it to the wood. Eyes wide, he rushes to grab it as it falls to the ground, only to be knocked about by more flying limbs and a swift punch to the gut.

The same hands grabs him by the neck and pins him there, choking grip on his neck as his eyes roll and bulge. He makes eye contact with you as you duck another oncoming boot, and flash at something behind you. Spinning to follow his eyeline, you can make a guess at his plan and yell across the ring to your friends (he said it, they didn't deny it. You're all friends now.)

"NAMI!" Her ginger head peeks over the barrier to you and you point behind you, "The crates!" She hops the colourful barrier and sprints to join you, as Luffy flips upright and chucks the hand towards you both.

You lift one of the smaller chests and she swings the hand in with her staff. Dropping it to the ground you stomp your foot down on top as the hand thumps around inside. You do it again and again, working as a team to collect and seal away the flailing body parts. Luffy flings them towards you with his powers, Zoro catching them on with his swords and pinning them down, as you and Nami catch and lock them away in the pile of empty crates, chests and boxes surrounding you. Buggy yells as you lock away more and more of him.

As the madness dies down, Luffy lifts his hat and dusts it off gently.

"What've you done to me?" Buggy screams as his head drops to ground on his hands and feet, literally.

"Cut you down to size!" Luffy chirps happily.

"The One Piece will never be yours! You're just a s-sad lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!"

"What did we say about projecting Buster?" Across from you, Luffy smiles.

"I know exactly who I am. I'm Monkey D. Luffy." He affixes the hat on his head.

(And I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!)

"And I'm gonna be King of the Pirates." Buggy huffs as Luffy's arms stretch backwards towards the walls of the tent. "GUM GUM-"

"Whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa, wHOA! NO NO NO! Wait, wait wa-wait."

"-BAZOOKA!" And he snaps his arms forward, knocking Buggy's remaining parts flying, ripping a hole in the tent roof and sending him far, far away. With that, Luffy picks up the map tube and you all regroup in the centre. He hands it to Nami with a smile.

"You're giving this to me?"

"You're the navigator."

"Let's get out of this clown show." Luffy catches his shoulder as he goes to move away.

"Still one more thing we have to do." With a clap to his shoulder, he walks off, moving to the stands and pulling the chains free from their blocks. The lights click back on as the three of you move about the crowd, unlocking the chains at people's feet.

The older man, the mayor, looks down at Luffy as he works on the manacles on their legs. "Are you our new captors?"

"What?" Luffy looks up at him, confused.

"W-well, you're a pirate, aren't you?" Luffy smiled as he straightened up.

"I'm a different kind of pirate."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A small dog snuffles about the feet of the mayor as he walks towards the pier your crew's small sailboat is docked at.

"We don't have much, but please, take this as a token of our... of our gratitude."

"You need it more than we do." Luffy replies, though he looks longingly at the food offering they had brought, and you all turn to walk to the boat. As you clamber aboard, Luffy pauses. "Well... maybe just a snack." As he grabs a piece of bread from the tray and stuffs it into his mouth.

The people call out their farewells and goodbyes as you begin to make headway back on to the open ocean, pulling open the sail.

Luffy watches you thoughtfully as you pull the straw through the hole stabbed through his hat, gently pulling it through to close the hole up. Nami looks up from reading the map beside you as the boat drifts languidly in the water.

"Looks almost finished." You hum back, concentrating.

The hole closed, you hand it back to Luffy. He took it with a smile.

”You fixed it. Thanks.”

”You said it was your treasure. You have to keep those safe.” He smiled at you, and from the back of the boat Zoro spoke up.

”Is everyday gonna be this crazy with you?” Luffy placed his hat on his head and moved down the boat towards him.

”Shanks always said, that if the path to what you want seems too easy… then you’re on the wrong path.” Zoro looked at him thoughtfully.

”This Shanks guy sounds all right.” Luffy stands again, hopping past you to stand at the prow, looking towards the horizon.

”Next stop, the Grand Line!!”

As you sailed into the sunset, all you could smell was sticky sweetness on the wind.

Next Chapter: Sweet Syrupy Lies

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 3 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after teaching tommy how to make cookies, you surprise him with your archery skills as you fight off mobs swarming outside of your house. tommy comes to a conclusion that makes him slightly ashamed of himself; being neutral doesn’t make you weak.

warnings swearing, killing of mobs (zombies, spiders, skeletons), some mental health talk (kinda)

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @netheriteaxe

it was storming the next night. after a nice dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, y/n proposed that tommy help her make some dessert for them to enjoy.

“you sure i can’t mess this up?” tommy asked warily as she opened her small, self-written recipe book and placed it in front of them.

“im sure,” she assured, patting his cheek endearingly. he made a face. “your face is gonna freeze that way, kid.”

“whatever,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as she laughed. “what are we making?”

“cookies!” she smiled. “one of the easiest things you can make.”

tommy sighed. though it was embarrassing to admit aloud, he couldn’t help but feel nervous about the experiment. “what do we need?”

“well...” after thirty minutes of patience from y/n, frustration from tommy, and unhelpful side commentary from ghostbur, the cookies were nearly ready to place in the furnace.

“how big should i make them?” tommy questioned, looking up at y/n from the baking sheet she had spread out for him.

she shrugged, placing her hand on the back of the chair ghostbur sat in. “however big you want. measure with your heart.”

“you also said that about the chocolate chips,” ghostbur commented. “now we’re all going to have cavities.” y/n whacked the boy on the back of the head, keeping her expression kind as she looked at tommy. 

“however you want them,” she assured. tommy nodded in return, turning back to the baking sheet just a loud banging came from the main entrance of the house. y/n peeked out of the kitchen. “oh, wow, that’s a lot of mobs..”

ghostbur leaned back to see. “goddamn!”

“tommy, you go ahead and portion and pop those into the oven,” y/n spoke, running a hand through her hair. “i have a feeling my door’s not gonna last much longer.” she rushed out of the room without another word.

“having fun yet?” ghostbur questioned as tommy began to portion out the blobs of cookie dough.

“kinda,” he shrugged. “y/n’s a good teacher.”

“she is,” ghostbur agreed.

“it’s also kind of nice to have a break from more chaotic things,” tommy continued as he worked. “you know, y/n surrounds herself with peace. she’s not a fighter like you were and i am. so, it’s nice to do as she does.” ghostbur chuckled and tommy looked up just as he finished portioning out the dough. “what?”

“whoever said y/n wasn’t a fighter?” ghostbur teased. just then, said girl came back into the kitchen with a bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows slung over her shoulder.

“cookies in yet?” she asked, eyes gleaming with excitement he hadn’t yet seen from her. her words were rushed out, and he stuttered to reply quickly.

“y-yeah, well, about to be,” he managed out. “what are you doing?”

y/n grinned at him as he lowered the tray of dough into the furnace. “someone’s gotta deal with the mobs out front.” before she disappeared, tommy called out to her.

“wait, y/n!” he called. “can i come with?”

“sure!” she laughed. “ghostbur, set a timer for fifteen, please!” tommy rushed to follow her as she practically raced up the stairs. ghostbur grinned after them.

“where are we going?” tommy huffed out as y/n led him down a hall he was yet to discover.

she slowed down, opening up a door that revealed the stormy night to him. “right out here.” tommy stepped out onto the small balcony. tarps covered the sides, preventing them from being pelted by the brunt of the rain and wind, but allowed them access to viewing the main entrance from the side.

“are you good with a bow, tommy?” y/n asked, still smiling as she delicately plucked an arrow from her quiver.

“uh- not really..,” the boy admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“that’s alright,” she smiled reassuringly as she lined up the arrow in her bow and pulled the string back. “i assume you’re better with a sword?”

“much better,” he nodded. she let out a hum before releasing the string from her fingertips, and tommy could barely keep up with the arrow that flew through the air and lodged itself in between a skeleton’s shoulder and collarbone, causing the mob to collapse into a pile of uselessness. tommy’s mouth suddenly felt dry as y/n loaded another arrow. 

he had never seen someone take down a skeleton in one shot, not even dream.

tommy watched as she closed one eye, aiming at three zombies lined up. she took a breath before tugging harshly at her string, then letting the arrow zoom through the storm and cleanly through the three’s heads. they all crumbled into a mass of rotten flesh.

“four mobs and two arrows?!” tommy managed as y/n reached for another. she looked over and laughed at the surprised boy. “how the hell did you do that?”

“i’ve always been good at aiming,” she spoke casually as she worked to load another arrow, aiming now at a spider working its way up her walls. she managed to lodge the arrow into its leg, effectively tearing it off of the creature and causing it to tumble onto the zombie below. they heard it hiss just before another arrow pinned through its heart and the zombie’s head, rendering both creatures silent. “not so much with close contact fighting.”

“i think this makes up for it,” tommy spoke distractedly, shaking his head with amazement as he watched her fingers move with instinct and practice. she launched another strong arrow into the hoard.

she laughed as she continued to work. “i fumble when im up close..” arrow after arrow whizzed from her bow. “from this distance, i can take my time. i can breathe, i can calculate.” mobs went down, pair after pair sinking to the cold, wet grass below. “and when we can do those things, our work only shows it.” she knocked down one last skeleton before she dropped her bow to her side. there were now only a few creepers and spiders mulling around.

“that was amazing,” tommy spoke after a moment of silence, looking at her with wide eyes. she gave him a smile. “i.. wow.”

she laughed just as ghostbur peeked his head out. “five minute warning.”

“thanks, ghostbur,” y/n nodded. “come on, kid. let’s towel off and eat some cookies.” tommy nodded, following her back into the house. he stayed behind with ghostbur as she went to grab towels.

“so?” ghostbur spoke with a knowing grin. “how was that?”

tommy shook his head, still processing the skill he had just experienced. “she’s the best archer i’ve ever seen! she didn’t miss a single target, she knew exactly where and when to aim, i-” he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t believe i thought she couldn’t fight. of course she can fight.”

“neutral doesn’t mean weak,” ghostbur spoke wisely, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder. the boy looked up at him with pursed lips, guilt weighing in his chest. “y/n is the strongest woman i know; she cooks, she welds, and she can work a bow like you’ve never seen. never expect anything with her, tommy. she’ll never stop surprising you.”

tommy nodded. “neutral doesn’t mean weak, eh?” ghostbur gave him a smile. “of course it doesn’t. it’s not like she chose this life.. there was a war.”

“right,” ghostbur confirmed. “it’s alright to be wrong sometimes, tommy. especially about someone you’ve known and lived with for what, a week?” he nodded. “see? you don’t have to know everything all the time.”

“okay,” tommy nodded, his voice quiet as ghostbur squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “wow. it’s strange to be able to hold myself to a lower standard.”

“y/n is teaching you some amazing things about mental health, tommy.”

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine.

Erik’s girl confesses that’s she’s in to both men and women and Erik helps her hit on women.

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, GxG, Voyeurism, Bisexual

It’s not like she could get over it. It’s engraved in her so deeply. He knows now and how long does it have to take before the moment finally arises? It’s killing her to suppress her urges. Dashawn was a phone call away. There are dating apps to meet new girl friends and secretly meet up. Not even the compilation videos of women eating each other’s pussies, tribbing, and dildo-fucking calmed the ache in her clit.

Of course, Erik is there to give his baby girl what she needs but a woman would complete the puzzle. While Erik fucked her with his burgeoning erection, drilling deep, a sexy woman can lick and suck all over her nipples. Maybe, this woman and Erik can eat her pussy at the same time. The possibilities are endless. But, she’s never been with a woman. Would she eat her pussy good? Good enough to make her cum hard?

Damn, Y/N hoped so.

“You overthink shit too much, baby,” Erik said to Y/N with his hands massaging her naked hip.

“I’ve never done it before. I’m nervous.”

“Had my ass fooled when you were flirting with Dashawn.”

“That’s flirting,” Y/N sat up in bed, “Not eating pussy.”

“Don’t you women have like an unspoken bond? Like, you know what turns you on and shit? Whatever makes you cum I’m sure makes her cum too. Can’t be as hard as you’re making it out to be.”

“You do have a fair point. Maybe it’s just my nerves. So, when should we do this?”

Erik chortled, “Ma, we have to find a chick who will be down first.”

“I can’t help that I want it so bad, daddy.”

Y/N rolled over with her smooth back facing Erik. All he could see was her wild ringlets. Erik reached out to slip his fingers between the moisturized spirals.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ll find a lucky girl soon—

“I have one in mind.” Y/N blurted out.

Erik sat up fully, the thin sheet pooling around his naked lower half. His fingertips danced across Y/N’s back when a dimpled smile spread across his full, sinful lips.

“I think I know who you’re referring to. Dashawn, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Erik gaped at her with a deep crease in his brow.

“I thought you were feeling Dashawn, baby?”

“I am but that’s not who I want for my first time. I want Raven.”

“Oohhhh…so it’s like that? Seeing her naked at the studio got your shit wet, huh baby?”

The way Erik said that has Y/N clenching her thighs.

“Sssssss…mmm…it’s funny that you mention Raven. She’s been asking about you a lot at the studio.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder and her eyes swept up and down Erik’s inviting body.

“She has? What did she say?”

Erik gave a half shrug, “Nothing obvious just how you’ve been doin’. Now, I’m starting to think she wanna know because she can’t get you off her mind.”

“I didn’t do anything to make her feel that way,” Y/N said with a soft-spoken voice.

“You clearly don’t know how good you fuckin’ look no matter how many times I tell you. You’re fine ass need to stop with allat shit.”

“Do you think she’ll be down?”

Erik’s eyes bore into Y/N’s, “I know Raven and with that being said she ain’t turning down no pussy. She used to tell me some wild shit that would have you turned on so fuckin’ hard, baby.”

“I’m already horny for her,” Y/N said with a whimper.

“Horny is an understatement.” He said.

Y/N took it upon herself to lift up and straddle Erik’s lap. Erik is so hard that his dick bounces up and hit his abs. Y/N’s slick, tight walls know how to suck up and work on that staff. Even with the soreness from Erik jackhammering her pussy, giving her pleasured pain, she still wanted him to bust her wide open.

“It’s what I’m feeling right now, times ten?” Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s shoulders and started grinding her pussy along his hard dick.

“Times 100,” Erik pushed down on the base of his dick to line himself up with Y/N’s begging pussy, smacking it with the tip of his dick.

“You hopped up on my lap quick for this dick again…”

“I can’t help that I’m obsessed.”

Y/N planted her hands on his muscular thighs and with how strong and sturdy they felt he can drive that fat, long dick hard and deep, balls deep, into her wet warmth. She spread her legs so he could watch the way he made that wide tip rub between her pussy lips. Even after two orgasms that night, Erik wasn’t through. The thought of sex with his baby girl always brought up an instant erection. Even after busting a nut, he was ready to go again with another big load waiting for her at the end. Erik used his big hands to lift her completely off his lap and onto her back. Expertly, Erik shoved her knees toward her shoulders to get a look at her fat, hot, cream-centered pussy. It was trimmed neatly with rosy pink inner lips extending beyond her outer lips.

Erik’s eyes reminded Y/N of midnight as he looked up at her through his curled lashes. He looked absolutely delicious. Even with his lips centimeters away from her pussy, Y/N had to take him all in: short dreads in his eyes, gold slugs in his mouth, and smooth brown skin the color of warm caramel. He also has the sexiest, piercing black eyes that always seemed to see straight into her soul. And just like that his fingers are massaging and tugging gently at her clit, preparing for what she knew would come next. He just kept looking at her with those eyes of his with her pussy in his face, and then lowered his head between her legs. Y/N swore she started cumming from the first flick of his warm, skillful tongue, the feeling was so intense.

Erik alternated between licking and sucking gently on her clit, while sticking one, then two fingers inside of her. This man knows her body so well. What she liked. What drove her crazy. He always made sure his girl got hers before he did. With the fingers that were inside of her, Erik put them in his mouth and sucked off her wetness before replacing his fingers with his tongue. With the way he spread her plump pussy lips apart, Y/N could see his tongue flicking, circling, and disappearing inside of her. Mercilessly, Erik tongue-fucked Y/N to the point of her squealing and moaning. He didn’t slow down his movements for a second. She attempts to lock his head between her thighs but Erik’s strong hands pushed her thighs back further. Y/N’s body began to convulse with orgasmic sensations. She pushed at Erik’s head and that’s when he gave her a break.

“Daddy…you didn’t tell me what she told you,” Y/N spoke breathlessly.

“You sure you’ll be able to handle that with this dick down your throat?” Erik said.

“I promise. I just want to hear the sexy story for myself…”

“Aight.”

Erik swiped his tongue over Y/N’s clit a few times before kissing up her belly. Smiling, Erik crawled out of bed and pulled Y/N’s body to the edge. From the little bit of light shining through the window, Y/N could see his long, fat dick in her face and her mouth watered instantly.

“I’m hungry, feed me,” Y/N purred.

Whack whack, Erik slapped his pipe against the sides of her face, “Is this what you’re hungry for?”

“Yes, please give it to me. I always want this dick in my mouth.”

“Then open up for daddy,” Erik said as Y/N dropped her head over the side of the bed, slowly feeding his long dick into her mouth until the whole thing was in.

“Don’t choke, baby, take your time…mmm…and keep your thighs open so I can see your pussy…”

Y/N definitely mastered her gag reflex as she gave deep-throat head effortlessly. Slurping and sucking his dick in and out of her mouth, Y/N drenched it with spit. In a constant rhythm she sucked him in halfway, to the tip, then to the base with her tongue, licking up and down the underside. Erik began to moan and cuss loudly.

“Raven told me about how she fucked the shit out of her best friend…grinding her clit on hers and squirting all over her throbbing pussy. feeling her soft moans in her mouth while she finger-fucked her. hold her legs back while she shoved her tongue in her pussy until she cried…she said her best friend begged her to keep fucking her pussy with that clit…”

Y/N found herself rubbing her clit to Erik’s words. She imagined what Raven would say to her when the moment finally happened.

I wanna make you squirt

This pussy gonna make me cum all over you

Y/N’s lips loosened around Erik’s dick so she could moan.

“You like that shit? The thought of her squirting all over your pussy? You gon’ make her pussy cum in your mouth?”

Y/N stopped sucking to speak, “Yes, daddy.”

“I’ll be right there, baby. Fuck, suck this fucking dick. Here,” Erik said, stuffing his dick in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down as she sucked his dick and licked the length.

The area around Y/N’s pussy was so sensitive that she couldn’t fucking stand it. Her pussy was swollen and wetter than it had ever felt before the more Erik talked about Raven and her nasty all girl orgies.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby, make daddy nut for the third time tonight, fuck, mm, get that nut out this dick, baby, shit, look what you making me do!”

Y/N was a starving woman, frantically bobbing her head back and forth, lips sealed right to meaty shaft and cheeks billowing with pressure, sucking and sucking on Erik’s dick. Y/N took even breaths and plunged down to his pubes and pulled back up again, consuming his big dick over and over. His dick filled her mouth and throat, satiating a small part of her pent-up appetite, but not nearly all of it. She wanted sweet pussy in her mouth next.

“FUCK,” Erik pulled out of her mouth with a grunt. He couldn’t believe how much he exploded inside of her mouth and that he wasn’t finished with her.

“Daddy, look at my pussy,” Y/N parted her lips for him and rubbed her clit with her middle finger, “Juicy, Right?”

“Fat and juicy…I’m about to drop another load in that beautiful pussy, baby.”

Erik flips Y/N over onto her stomach and raised her hips up with her knees on the edge of the bed. Slowly, with his large hands on her hips, he eased his rigid dick inside until it reached the base. Immediately her body shuddered, as if it was all it needed to reach a climax. Erik used Y/N’s hips to force her down while he pumped her pussy. Y/N skillfully moved her hips in circular and up-and-down motions. When he realized how eager she was to have his dick Erik entered her tight pussy more forcefully and a loud, smacking sound from his dick and her innards separating for him filled the room.

“Ah, fuck me, daddy! Fuck me! Yes! Yes!” Y/N screamed.

His thighs collided with her ass hard. So hard she felt it all the way to her stomach. Her face contorted as she whispered the word yes over and over.

“You know I love this fat ass pussy, right? Bend that back and take this fuckin’ dick!”

Erik couldn’t look away from her beautiful, dark, meaty lips wrapped around his dick from her vice grip.

“Keep creaming on daddy, baby. Daddy love this wet pussy so much—”

“Yes! Fuck!” Y/N could feel an intense orgasm surge through her body and Erik sped up the pace.

“GODDAYUM, oh yeah, baby, take this dick!!!!!” 

Erik’s dick swelled inside of Y/N and released another huge load deep inside of her for the third time that evening. He could feel the sweat from his body dripping to the bed and Y/N’s back. Erik looked at her pussy with a bite of his bottom lip, slowly sliding out and groaning from how much she squeezed him.

“That puss don’t want this dick to go. Fuck…”

Erik dropped down to his knees on the carpet behind Y/N, pussy-level. She was sodden, beat up, dripping with moisture, lips swollen and slick on the outside, pink and gleaming on the inside. Erik stuck his tongue out and touched her flaps with the tip on each side.

“Erik!” Y/N gasped, jerking.

Erik licked up her slit from deep in between her legs to the top of her trimmed mound, dragging her pussy in one long, hard, wet stroke.

“You love eating my pussy, daddy!” Y/N moaned, ass bouncing above his head because she couldn’t keep still.

He lapped her pussy, stroking her flaps with his tongue, scooping up her creamy juices and gulping them down.

“Ooooh, baby!”

Y/N’s legs quivered out of control. Erik talked nasty shit about how good her pussy tastes and how it’s fat and filled with his cum. He couldn’t stop himself from spreading her plumped pussy lips wide with his fingers, exposing her shining pink and swollen clit. He started spearing her pussy with his wet tongue.

“Fuck!” Y/N cried, jolted by the impact of his tongue in her pussy. Erik pistoned his head back and forth, pumping her, fucking her with his tongue before burying it deep, squirming it around with a wild shake of his head and full of tapered locs, digging deep into her soaked pussy. Y/N bent over almost in two, reaching back to grab onto Erik’s head, overcome with so much emotion and pleasure. Erik pulled his tongue out and dragged it along her fleshy inner lips again before sucking her clit up like a sweet treat.

“Erik, oh my god, baby, please,” Y/N gasped.

Erik kissed her clit, engulfed it with his lips and vacuum-sealed her clit, his cheeks billowing. Y/N quivered wickedly with her muffled cries.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Y/N wailed.

Erik spit her clit out with saliva and stood up with a heavy exhale and her juices all over her face. Y/N moaned low and long, unable to move from the bed from how numb her body felt. Erik spanked her cheeks around before giving her a kiss on her lower back.

“Okay, I think I’m really done for the night this time,” Erik’s deep voice spoke tiredly. He walked blindly towards the bathroom within the darkness of the bedroom to quickly cleanse himself.

Y/N crawled onto the bed and got with a content sigh and a smile on her face. She could see Erik washing his face at the sink, his dick still hardened despite his words of being finished. After he cleansed his face, Erik brushed his teeth and left the light on for Y/N to do the same. On her way out of the bed, Erik slapped her ass.

“Is Raven going to be at the studio tomorrow?”

“You know it. She has a shoot like every week to keep up with her portfolio and modeling lifestyle. Tomorrow we’re shooting a scene where she’s dripping wet. I think you’ll love this one, baby.”

Y/N couldn’t conceal her excitement.

“That’s the perfect time to ask her then. I’ll go with you.”

Erik folded his hands behind his head as he laid back against the pillows, smiling at the ceiling.

“My baby girl ain’t playing. So, you remember how you did it with Dashawn, right? You gotta have that same confidence with Raven. Don’t let her boldness distract you from making a move. Look her in the eyes and tell her how bad you want her. I already know it’ll work.”

“Raven seems like she’s always in control,” Y/N said in between scrubbing the back of her teeth.

“Don’t worry about allat. Show that bitch that you can take control too. Let her know straight up how you want it. With your tongue up her pussy.”

Y/N rinsed her mouth out and wiped off her hands. She turned the light off in their bathroom and joined Erik in bed. Y/N snuggled close to him and rested her head on his solid chest.

“Night, baby girl, you wore me out,” Erik kissed her forehead.

“Night,” Y/N closed her eyes and within seconds she was off to sleep.

_______________

Erik has a special part of his studio dedicated to shooting scenes with water or even paint. Raven posed with her left foot propped up against a wooden chair with thin, sheer white panties on and a white Henley. Her loose curls that were once frizzy and dry are now damp against her head. The water from the sprinklers rained down on her and the water mimicked rain bouncing off pebbled rock around her feet. Erik flicked it up on his new Nikon D850 camera, taking several photos of Raven in that pose before adjusting the studio lights. Keeping it comfortable during this wet photo shoot, Erik wore a simple white tee and black basketball shorts with his feet bare. His tapered locs are pulled back from his face so they wouldn’t drip in his eyes from all the water.

“Hold that pose, Rae, poke your hip out a little more for me, good, raise your chin a little bit, you look so damn good girl, mmm! Aight, one more like this and then I want you to take off your shirt.”

“You know I always gotta get naked for my shoots, Erik,” Raven laughs.

“That’s why I said take off that shirt. Aight, focus, girl.”

Erik snapped two more pictures before waiting until Raven removed her shirt. Her plum sized breasts with big, protruding nipples stood at attention when she arched her back. Raven closed her eyes and tilted her head back, allowing the water to cascade over her face.

“Don’t you move, I like this shot,” Erik found a good angle and took a few pictures, “Baby, come take a look at this.”

Erik looked over his shoulder at Y/N as she walked over to see the photos. Y/N had on jean shorts with a white cropped tee and her curly hair styled in a pineapple.

“You like this?” Erik showed her the picture of Raven with her titties out. The water felt cold beneath her feet and from how hard Raven’s nipples are she knew she had to be shivering.

“I like it,” Y/N said with a low voice.

So there she was, staring at Raven and suddenly her eyes latched onto hers. Raven grinned, and Y/N stood there nervous as all hell. Somehow she managed to slightly wave at Raven. She waved back.

“I think we’re finished. I got forty pictures and when I get home I’ll go through them to figure out which ones to send you. Cool?”

“Fine with me, you got any wine?” Raven asked as she walked off set with her breasts bouncing with each step. She stood on the opposite side of Erik, peering over his shoulder at her photos. Y/N caught a whiff of jasmine and cedar wood wafting from Raven’s honey glazed skin.

“I have a few bottles of chilled white wine if that’s okay with you,” Erik said.

“Fine by me. I’m not ready to go yet,” Raven rested her chin on Erik’s shoulder as her penetrating gaze sought out Y/N’s, “How have you been, beautiful? Long time no see.”

“I’ve been great, actually. You?”

“Booked and busy, chile. I’ll be out of town in a couple of days so I wanted to get this shoot done before then. Thanks to your man here he cleared his schedule just for me.”

Raven pecked Erik’s cheek.

“I’m starting to think you’re his favorite client,” Y/N said.

“I better be,” Raven sassed before sauntering away, “I’ll grab the wine! Y/N come sit with me so we can catch up!”

Y/N’s eyes never left Raven, not even when she went to retrieve the wine. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again. Y/N almost fell back down when she caught a glimpse of her. She looked exotic—short, jet-black ringlets, smooth caramel skin, deep-set sienna eyes, and full luscious lips. Raven spotted Y/N looking when she took a seat on Erik’s black leather sectional and gave her a warm smile before waving her over.

“While you two get acquainted, I’m gonna get these fans going in here so this water can dry up. Hey,” Erik’s lips brushed across Y/N’s neck, “breathe, baby. Get some of that wine to loosen you up a bit.”

“Kay,” Y/N accepted Erik’s tongue and a slap on the ass before taking tentative steps towards Raven. She’s drinking her glass of wine and flipping through a photo album with some of Erik’s best work.

“What took you so long to come over here?” Raven asked, “I was about to say you didn’t want my company?!”

Y/N couldn’t help but to laugh at her words. Raven shut the album.

“You aren’t cold,” Y/N said, pointing her finger and Raven’s bare chest.

“No. I’m good like this,” Raven peered down at her chest before shimmying her shoulders to make them sway, “It’s just breasts! If you want, you can get comfortable too.”

“Oh,” Y/N could feel desire blossom in her belly, “Maybe after a few sips of wine.

Y/N helped herself to wine.

“So that means that you would take off your shirt then?” Raven asked.

“Y-yeah,” Y/N gulped down some of her wine, “So. What do you model for exactly? I never asked.”

“I used to model for Playboy but now I do my own thing to build my portfolio with Erik and to make some extra cash, I model nude for this exclusive black-owned porn company called the triple B.”

“Really?” Y/N cleared her throat, “What’s that stand for?”

“Black Beautiful Bodies. I wish it was something nastier,” Raven chuckled.

“Oooh, I see, that’s what’s up! So does that mean that you—you know—take other pictures as well?”

“Define other?”

“Like…pictures of your vagina.”

“Yes!” Raven squealed, “Has Erik ever taken nude photos of you with his camera?”

Y/N became bashful.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me this big time photographer never asked his girl to pose nude before! I mean…I couldn’t see why he wouldn’t with a body like that on you.”

“He has…a few times.”

“How were you posed,” Raven helped herself to more wine, “Lingerie strip tease? Fresh out the shower? After steamy sex?”

“After sex and in lingerie but not a strip tease.”

“Erik likes full on shots. His favorite is when my legs are spread wide and my pussy is doing the smiling for the camera.”

Y/N’s body shivered. She knew her man took all kinds of photos but to hear it from Raven it surprised and intrigued Y/N.

“Sexy, right? I’m assuming Erik enjoys the same for you?”

“Y-Yes,” Y/N adjusted her hips, “He does.”

“And let’s not forget breast shots. Your DDs put my 34Bs to shame, honey,” Raven said with a smile.

“You have nice breasts though…they’re pretty.”

Raven arched a brow, “and so are yours and I haven’t even seen them! Look at you. You’re gorgeous!”

Raven slid closer beside Y/N until her knee was rubbing against hers.

“How much more wine before I get to see those big titties?”

“Not long,” Y/N dropped her eyes to her lap, “Rae…there’s something I want to ask you.”

Raven crossed one leg over the other, “Ask away.”

Y/N hesitated, not sure how to ask because of how nervous she is. She tried to build confidence but the more Raven looked at her the way she was, the more difficult it became. It had honestly slipped her mind between their skin making contact and Raven rubbing her index finger around the tip of her wine glass like she was fingering a nipple.

“Okay, so, um, I’m bisexual, right…”

“Right,” Raven reiterated.

“And I’ve never been with a woman before—”

“Get out, seriously?”

“No lie.”

“Why?”

“Well…because I’m new to this whole thing. I told Erik some days ago for the first time.”

“Aww, Y/N,” Raven sat her glass down and caressed Y/N’s thigh, “That’s so cute. I mean, I already knew but I’m glad you told Erik about it. So, what’s your question?”

“What I wanna know is if you’d be down to hook up…with me? And Erik?”

From the way Raven’s eyes twinkled and her lips parted ever so slightly, Y/N knew that her answer would be an instant yes. She felt relieved and a little less nervous. Still, it’s Raven. Y/N could feel her wetness coming down into her panties the more she sat there holding Raven’s gaze.

“Take off your shirt,” Raven cooed with a lick of her lips.

Y/N sat her glass down and with shaky fingers she began taking off her cropped white tee. She had on a nude T-shirt bra underneath that Raven didn’t hesitate to help her out of.

“So, that’s a yes?” Y/N asked with a timid giggle.

“It’s a hell yes. Girl, if only you knew how much I wanted to steal you from Erik and have you all to myself.”

“W—what about Erik? Have you ever…thought about it?”

“A few times. Your man used to slang dick up in here before he met you. Models would line up to get a piece of Erik. I came in one time an hour before my shoot and found him buried deep in some chick. That shit turned me on.”

“He told me about that one,” Y/N said, feeling her breasts fall freely from the bra.”

“Just that one? Your man used to get down with more than one, you like that?”

“I actually do,” Y/N exhaled when she felt the fabric of her bra brush past her hard nipples and Raven’s warm breath on her ear.

“Kinky…” Raven whispered before flicking Y/N’s ear with her tongue.

Raven seductively started rubbing Y/N’s nipples from behind, pinching them in between her thumbs and forefingers. Her nipples were so hard it was almost painful. Y/N closed her eyes and shuddered when she felt Raven’s lips sucking on her earlobe. Y/N didn’t know what to do with her hands so she placed them on Raven’s thighs.

“Titties are so big and soft,” Raven whispered, “I want to lick wine off your nipples.”

“Yeah?” Y/N said with a hushed tone.

“Uh-huh…you’re just so sweet I’d eat a whole meal off of you…”

She turned her body around to face Raven and their chests touched, hard nipples rubbing against each other. Raven brushed some of Y/N’s hair from her face and slowly leaned in with her luscious lips parted. Her wet, versatile tongue traced Y/N’s lips and then she used her teeth to latch onto Y/N’s bottom lip. Y/N feeling more confident placed her hands on Raven’s breasts and used her thumbs to tweak her nipples. The leather crinkled beneath their bodies as they moved to taste each other deeper. Y/N couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Lay back,” Raven said.

Y/N did as she was instructed, heavy breasts spread out sideways from her position. Raven picked up the bottle of wine and went to straddle Y/N. Raven tipped the bottle over and the cold white wine covered Y/N’s chest. Her back arched and quickly she moaned when Raven’s lips circled her left nipple. She sucked hard and Y/N could feel her nipple being tugged. It felt so damn good. When Raven started tickling it with the tip of her tongue Y/N started to squirm. She could feel heat against her and when her eyes opened, Y/N was staring up at Erik. He didn’t even have to whip that dick out to show that it’s hard. His massive dick created a prominent and very noticeable bulge.

Raven’s back is arched and her tight, bubbly ass sat high enough for Erik to see her pussy lips through her panties. Y/N still had on her jean shorts and from the way his heavy-lidded eyes kept staring at them both she knew he would rather see naked pussy as well. Raven could feel his eyes on them too so she popped her lips off a nipple and looked back at Erik with a sly grin.

“She told me everything. So are we doing this right now or what?”

“No need to take this party elsewhere, might as well keep it going.” Erik said.

“You hear that, Y/N, looks like we’ll be rubbing pussies on this couch.” Raven said with a flick of her tongue.

“Mmm,” Erik hummed, “I got just the thing for this moment.”

“Let me guess, your camera,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Yep!” Erik jogged off to grab one of his cameras.

That left Raven and Y/N to explore each other more. Raven kissed along Y/N’s nipples before dragging her lips and tongue up her neck and to her mouth. They kissed intensely; tongue, spit, a roll of the hips, and moans. It felt so good to Y/N when Raven’s nipples clashed with hers. It made her tremble. Raven’s tongue is eager in Y/N’s mouth each time she ran it back and forth against hers.

“Y/N,” Raven moaned against her lips, “I really wanna taste you…”

Raven sat up on her knees to unfasten Y/N’s shorts.

“Play with your breasts for me,” Raven said with parted lips.

Y/N cupped her breasts and rolled them together sensually. She brings a nipple to her mouth to suck on while Raven slides her bottoms down revealing a freshly waxed pussy. Erik returned shirtless with his camera in hand. With a lick of his lips he aimed the camera at the two gorgeous women and sapped a couple of shots of Y/N playing with her breasts while Raven positioned herself between her legs.

“Shit, y’all got my dick hard,” Erik palmed himself, “bring her legs back some more, Rae.”

Raven brought Y/N’s knees to her chest and Erik had a clear shot of Y/N’s fat, wet vulva spread open. The look of desire on her face with her hair in her eyes had Erik lowering his pants to show them just how stiff that fat dick is. Raven and Y/N shared a look and knowing smiles. Y/N reached out and gripped Erik’s fully grown erection, bringing him closer with a gentle tug of his dick. Raven giggled with a bite of her lip.

“Now that’s how you bring a big dick into the equation,” She smoothed her hands down his abs and made her voice low, “I can’t wait to see how this feels.”

“Damn, girl,” He Erik popped Raven’s ass, “Stick that long tongue out and rest it on her clit. I gotta capture that shit.”

Raven divided Y/N’s soaked lips to make her clit poke out more and then she stuck her tongue out and rested the pointed tip of it against her clit while looking in the camera.

“Mmmmhhhnmmm,” Erik leaned in to get a close up, “wet ass pussy…Rae, wrap your lips around it…make that fat pussy cum.”

“Ffffuckkk,” Y/N sat up on her elbows and threw her head back. Raven’s tongue was just how she imagined—warm, and skillful. She didn’t waste time making Y/N’s pussy twitch and quiver. She would made loud slurping noises when she lapped at Y/N’s pussy. Erik got down on his knees and pressed his lips into Y/N’s, the soft warm feel of his chest against her breasts as he let the tip of his tongue flick tiny licks along her seam.

“She’s eating my pussy so good, daddy—”

“The way she working that mouth on your pussy got me hurting over here,” Erik gripped his dick and stroked it, “buck your hips in her face…just like that…feed her that puss. Rae, open your mouth like you wanna fit her whole pussy in there…”

Loud smacking noises came from Raven’s mouth and Erik watched with his wet lips poked out as Raven sucked up all Y/N’s wetness spewing from her core.

“You taste so sweet, so juicy, like mangoes,” Raven said.

“Eat my pussy,” Y/N whimpered, her cries of pleasure adoring Raven’s mouth. Raven and Y/N stared at each other.

“Let me taste her pussy off your tongue…”

Raven lifted up and her long tongue extended out for Erik to wrap his lips around it and start sucking. Y/N watched them kiss heatedly and messily with lots of slurping. Erik hissed when Raven’s dainty hand found it’s way to his fat dick, stroking it slowly. He reached around to fondle Raven’s pussy through her panties with a deep frown on his face.

“Why the fuck you still got panties on, ma? Couldn’t wait to have my girl pussy in your mouth that’s why.”

“Here,” Raven turned her back towards Erik with her ass in the air and a wiggle of her slender hips, “Take them off of me.”

Erik licked his lips and kneeled down behind Raven’s ass, planting kisses to her cheeks. Raven could hear Y/N’s mewling and when she looked at her she could see her fingers playing with her clit and her wet entrance convulsing.

“I didn’t forget about you baby…” Raven sucked on two fingers before she spread her labia and started fingering her. Y/N’s breasts swayed from her movement, “Erik gets to suck and lick all over these big breasts any time he wants…so lucky…”

“Spread your legs some more, Rae…mmm,” Erik started tonguing Raven’s folds. Her full and puffy outer lips hid her tiny jewel and when Erik spread her wide his eyes gleamed with lust at how glistening and pink she is. It reminded him of cotton candy and it tasted like she’d been munching on berries.

All you could hear were the mixture of moans at various levels and creamy sounds. Erik had a firm grip of Raven’s tight, little ass and all Y/N could see is his face move up and down, swiping her and covering her with saliva. Y/N could practically feel the heat radiating from her pussy and when she noticed how flushed and swollen her pussy lips were, it let her know that her release was right around the corner.

With Raven’s fingers moving in and out of her with gusto, waves of pleasure ran through her and she felt her release building higher and higher. Y/N couldn’t peel her eyes away from Erik’s rigid pipe with pre-cum dripping from his wide tip. If she looked close enough, she could see several bulging veins throb.

“Fuck, I love how you eat pussy, Erik,” Raven’s mouth formed an O, “Shitttttt, suck on that clit!”

When Raven’s limber leg raises up Y/N gasped at how Erik’s lips glided up and down with a suction so tight around her clit.

“Daddy, eat that pussy,” Y/N moaned, “Fuck, she’s creaming so much—”

“Yes, oh, nigga, eat me!”

Raven clawed the couch and her body began to spasm. She gasped out loud as if she lost the will to breathe. Not once did Erik release his hold on her folds.

“I’m squirting! Erik!”

She couldn’t finger Y/N any longer. Raven cried out and shouted Erik’s name repeatedly.

“Daddy, my turn,” Y/N groaned, barley able to speak. Raven cursed when Erik finally unraveled his big lips from her pussy. A sticky stream trickled from Raven’s pussy and she watched Erik thrust his thick meat down Y/N’s throat. He jammed that solid pole all the way down her throat in one motion.

“Ohh, shit. She sucking all that?” Raven said with envious eyes.

“You gotta bring that mouth to me if you want some too,” Erik said with a bite of his bottom lip.

Raven straddles Y/N and pressed her face against hers. She had a magnifying view of Erik’s dick digging out Y/N’s throat. She cupped his big balls and weighed them in her hand, pleasantly aroused and drooling to get her lips around those. They dangled and tapped Y/N’s chin each time he went lower.

“Sharing is caring, Y/N. Let me see if I can get it all the way down like you…Erik!”

Raven snatched his dick up and bobbed her head hard. Y/N peppered kisses along his length with her eyes on Erik. Raven slurped on him like it was her first time with a big dick in her mouth. Y/N let her do her thing, soaking wet and throbbing from the visual alone.

“Ughhhhhh,” Erik was motionless. His straping thighs flexed hard and out of his control.

“Fuckin’ suck this dick!” He told her with a deep, commanding voice.

Y/N watched with rapid attention as Erik cradled the back of Raven’s neck and fucked her throat.

“Get that dick, Rae, Y/N, I know you see my nuts in your face. Make this dick cum, both of y’all.”

When his voice got raspy and deep like that Y/N knew he was ready to explode. Raven popped her lips off of Erik’s dick and fed it to Y/N while she licked his balls. Y/N wiggled her tongue in Erik’s slit so she could hear him moan. He had a hand on the back of each of their heads as he grunted and groaned.

“Suck that nut out, fuck! Y’all ain’t playing.”

They surely weren’t. Both women took turns like generous little sluts and showed Erik what they could do with their tongues and lips to get his nut out.

“Fuck, ima bust on both of y’all pretty bitches—FUCK—goddamn, got my dick leaking like a motherfucker—”

Raven and Y/N rubbed their faces along Erik’s dick as he spurted out a hefty load. They didn’t leave a trace behind except for their own faces. When Raven and Y/N shared yet another kiss, Erik grabbed his camera to take a picture of them with his cum shining on their beautiful, brown faces.

“Look at us, covered in cum,” Raven said with a smile.

“I could use yours on my face now,” Y/N kissed Raven with her needy lips, “sit on my face.”

“Bold, I like that.”

Raven didn’t waste time climbing onto Y/N’s face. She arched her back and dropped her pussy down in her wide open mouth. Hips grinding, Raven savored the gentleness of Y/N’s tongue.

“It’s okay, you can lick harder,” Raven said.

“Open that pussy up and move your tongue all around, baby,” Erik instructed, “you see that tiny little clit? Make that shit grow. Take the tip of your tongue and work that motherfucka’.”

“Like this,” Y/N twisted her tongue around Raven’s clit.

“Yeahhh,” Erik spanked Raven’s ass and then with both of his hands he separated her cheeks to expose her pussy more, “You doing that shit, baby. Look at how much she’s creaming. Bring your tongue right there and eat it up…Mhm…take that pussy, baby, take that pussy…”

“Unh!” Raven moaned.

“She likes it like that, look at her clenching up…ima open that tight pussy up.” 

“Look, daddy,” Y/N spit on Raven’s pussy causing her hips to jolt.

“Dayum,” Erik whacked his dick on Raven’s ass, “Do what I did…open that pussy and lick right below her clit…make that pussy squirt…I want you to taste it for yourself.”

“F—ff—fuckkkk,” Raven flexed her back muscles and Erik jiggled her ass. 

Y/N gulped her juices down and she couldn’t believe how sweet she tasted. She needed her pussy rubbing on hers right now. Raven seemed to read her mind because she spread her hips and Y/N brought her knees to her chest. Raven got into position and started slowly grinding her pussy against Y/N’s. Y/N struggled at first but Erik raised her hips from behind and damn…that’s when she felt it all. Y/N was overwhelmed with the sensation. She started grinding up into Raven, their clits sliding against each other and it felt so good. They both grew wetter and wetter, pussies fitting perfectly together. Their sloppy pussies bumped and angelic moans pleased Erik’s ears. Loud, pussy-smacking noises had Erik talking nasty to both of them.

“yes,” Y/N said with a sweet-sounding moan.

“Baby, that pussy,” Raven spoke softly, lost in the feeling.

“You like that? Huh?” Raven said with a roll of her hips.

“Uh-huh, oooohhhh, fuck.”

“I’m fucking the dog shit out of both y’all after this. I mean that shit, fuck,” Erik got down on his knees so he could watch, “Ima pick you up and slam you on my dick…make you cum…this shit is so beautiful.” 

“Daddy! Her pussy feels so good on me,” Y/N exclaimed.

Unh! Unh! Umph! Oooh! Unnnn! Uhhhhh! Ahh! 

They changed positions suddenly and in no time Y/N started bouncing her clit against Raven’s while Erik smacked her ass and encouraged her to keep going. 

“Make me cum, Y/N!” Raven shouted.

Since they were so wet, their sticky folds made macaroni noises. They dirty talked to each other and when Y/N circled her hips, she came before Raven did and gushed juices all over her pussy. 

“I’m not finished, bitch, ima keep fuckin this pussy!” Raven grabbed her hips and thrusted up to continue humping on her clit. With a tremble of her legs, Y/N pounded her pussy into Raven’s and nothing but creamy, wet, sloppy, smacking sounds could be heard. 

“This your pussy, Raven,” Y/N moaned, “You own this pussy!”

“Damn…I’m cumming, ohhh!!”

Raven spasmed and spilled her juices. Both of their inner thighs were drenched. 

That was enough to have Erik on his feet and grabbing Y/N off the couch in one Swift motion with his strong arms curled under her thighs. With just his sinewy hips, Erik thrust into Y/N hard. The weight of his dick sliding in and out of her in that position made her eyes cross and her mouth hang open with amazement. Y/N couldn't control the involuntary spasms her pussy was doing on his erection. It was like her vagina was priming the pump for her release. She gripped his shoulders tightly because the way Erik bounced her body she couldn’t keep still.

"Look at you, baby. Getting dick and pussy in one night. She got this pussy nice and wet for me to slide in real good. Sweet pussy on you," he hissed when he felt her squeeze around him. His hand kept slapping Y/N’s ass. 

Raven’s resolve weakened as she watched and listened to Y/N’s body take Erik's rough handling of her. She went limp in his arms and simply gave her body and her soul over to him. She could only take it as she felt that big dick ramming in and out of her. He hit the back of her pussy when he dipped his hips and that’s when she lost it and came all over his dick. 

Erik retracted his hips and watched Y/N leak all over him. Still panting, Y/N was placed on the couch and Erik picked up Raven to do the same to her. He folded her body in two with her legs over his shoulders. Erik planted his feet on the floor and every beautiful muscle in his body flexed as he crouched down to dig into Raven. The slapping sound of their flesh bounced off of the studio walls and they shared a deep look of immense pleasure. 

“Fuck!” Raven gasped as she watched his face as his lips opened and his eyes shut tight. She felt his dick harden inside her more. 

“That big dick wants to cum!” Raven shouted. 

“Erik, shit,” Y/N was desperate for him and when his eyes met hers she turned that ass around to show him her sloppy pussy. 

“Erik! You and this big dick—DAMNIT!” 

Raven’s toes curled and when Erik pulled back she shivered from how much he stuffed her. Back at the couch, Erik determined to finish, He ordered Raven to arch her back just like Y/N so he can take turns clapping both of their cheeks. 

“You first, I’m not playing with you. This my pussy,” Erik spoke roughly to Y/N before sliding his steely pole deep inside of her. Her back arched on its own and it didn’t take long for Erik to find his rhythm. 

"Baby…fuck me…fuck me…fffffuuuckkkmeeee…"

His taut abs flexed when Y/N started throwing it back. Raven reached out to touch her cheeks. Erik noticed and gave her a smile before tasting her lips. 

“Hold her ass open for me,” He whispered to Raven. 

Erik’s dick hit spots she couldn’t explain. Raven stared at his dick working her slick pussy and when Y/N clenched down she moaned. All she could see was Erik’s dick pulsating. 

“Shit…give me your pussy,” Erik pushed Raven down further with his hand on the back of her neck, “Get this dick.” 

“Mmm!!!” Raven wasn’t prepared, “Damn, it’s so big. My pussy is wide open for you!”

“Erik, fuck her good,” Y/N cooed.

“Pop that little ass, you want me to fuck you that’s what’s it is,” Erik grabbed her petite hips and slammed into her. 

Raven groaned hoarsely. Erik was tearing her pussy up. Y/N grabbed his sack and massaged it at the same time. Erik threw his head back and with his thick fingers he gripped as much of Raven’s short hair as he could. 

“I’m nutting!” Raven cried out. 

“Fuck…here it comes…get in position…I’m about to bust…bring that ass up!!!” 

Y/N bounced her cheeks and looked back at Erik jerking his fat dick, thick, creamy, cum shooting out all over their asses and backs. 

“Hold that position…fuck! shit don’t make no sense...” 

Erik grabbed his camera from the floor and took one final picture of Raven and Y/N staring into the lenses with his cum all over them. Y/N got exactly what she wanted for her first time and it lived up to her fantasies. She couldn’t look at Raven without wanting to fuck her again. She’s just that addictive.

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 8

AO3

Prev

Marinette was seriously considering murder. She was pretty sure Jason would be able to help her hide the body, he was a lot stronger than her. But murder was seriously on the table. Why has she decided to break that one golden rule, you might ask? Lila Rossi. The bane of her existence. The very reason they were spending two fucking weeks in the crime capital of the world instead of their original destinations. But no, Lila just had to convince Mme. Bustier to take them to Gotham. And then, as if making Marinette plan a million things last minute wasn’t bad enough, Lila decided to talk. Nonstop. Throughout the entire first half of their tour of Wayne Enterprises. The only thing keeping her from strangling the girl right now was the promise of coffee in the cafeteria. She didn’t need food, she needed coffee. And then she’d go right back to plotting murder. Would anyone look in the river for her body? 

“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure you shouldn’t do it.” Adrien says, pulling her out of her murder plot. She glares at him. 

“I’m planning a murder, and I don’t appreciate you interrupting me.” She deadpans. 

“Murder’s bad, Mari. We don’t murder people.” Adrien sighs, throwing an arm over her shoulders. 

“Maybe you don’t murder people. I’m thinking about branching out.” She hums, getting in the line for coffee. Adrien huffs and grabs her arm, tugging her behind him. She immediately starts whining, reaching out towards the coffee booth. 

“Mari, you need actual food. You can have coffee after you eat something. I know for a fact you didn’t eat breakfast.” He says, staring her down. She huffs, crossing her arms. 

“You’re not my dad.” She mumbles, turning away from him. 

“Why the hell are you all pouty?” Jason asks, walking up to the two. Marinette smiles briefly, then drops her face back into a scowl. 

“Someone is keeping me from my coffee.” She says. 

“Good job kid!” Jason says, high fiving Adrien. Marinette’s jaw drops at the betrayal. 

“Honestly rude. Guess I’m not gonna ask you to help me anymore.” She says, sighing dramatically. 

“Help with what?” He asks, frowning. 

“Murder. She wants to commit a murder.” Adrien says, rolling his eyes. 

“Who’re we killing?” Jason asks. This time it’s Adrien’s turn to drop his jaw, Marinette laughing loudly. 

“Ha! I told you Jay would help me!” She cheers, shooting Adrien a smug smile. 

“Marinette! Lila needs your help carrying her tray.” Mme. Bustier instructs, walking over to the trio. Marinette immediately frowns, looking over at Lila who was carrying a tray. Just fine. 

“Uh, looks like she’s got it.” She says, nodding towards the liar. 

“Well, she got it okay, but she needs someone to carry it to her table for her.” Mme. Bustier says, frowning. 

“And one of her friends can do it. I’m not getting out of line for my own lunch just to carry Lila’s tray Mme. Bustier.” Marinette argues, crossing her arms. 

“Marinette-” She starts, then stops when she realizes Jason isn’t one of the students. “Very well. But we’re going to talk about this later.” She adds before walking away. Marinette rolls her eyes. 

“Is she the one we’re murdering?” Jason asks, leaning down a little so he could whisper. 

“Nope. The one whose tray I was supposed to carry is the one on my list.” Mari says, nodding towards the girl who was now fake crying. 

“Jesus. How does anyone put up with her?” He asks, face curling in disgust. Marinette shrugs. 

“At first I thought she was Meta. Now I think my classmates are just idiots.” She says simply. Jason snorts. 

“I believe that. I’m gonna go grab you a coffee. As much as I’d love to help you commit a murder, pretty sure the boss would be pissed.” He says, ruffling her hair before walking away. Marinette turns to Adrien and gives him a smug smile. 

“Ha, bitch.” She says, snorting as he starts spluttering. 

“You can’t just say that, Bug!” He whines, before turning to order his food. Marinette snorts. 

“Sure I can.” She says in English, before quickly switching to Mandarin and lowering her voice. “I’m a seventeen year old ex-superhero, I’m allowed to say bitch.” Adrien just snorts, thanking the lady and grabbing his food so that Marinette can order. Once she has her food, she follows Adrien to an almost empty table in the corner farthest away from their classmates. She smiles at the person at the other end of the table, Dick Grayson. He was their tour guide and had dealt with their annoying ass class surprisingly well. She was tempted to make him a certificate if he lasted til the end of the day without losing his sanity. Plopping down in her seat, she starts eating her food slowly, watching Jason across the room at the coffee booth. 

“Mari, he said he would get you coffee. He’s gonna get you coffee.” Adrien says, nudging her side to try and get her to actually eat. 

“You don’t think he’d get me decaf, do you?” She asks, remembering the time he’d brought coffee to one of their late night training sessions. It was decaf then, he claimed that she needed to be able to sleep after training. She argued that she needed to stay awake and do homework and commissions and some lameass decaf coffee was not going to help her do that. She just hoped he would take pity on her and get her actual coffee this time. 

“I think I’d get you decaf,” Adrien starts, dodging her attempt to whack him. “But, I think Jay’s a little nicer than me today. Probably since he hasn’t seen us in awhile.” He muses. Marinette stops trying to attack him, nodding in agreement. He’d be more likely to give her decaf tomorrow than today. So it was still safe to trust her coffee order to him. For now. 

“I’m sorry, did you say Jay?” Mr. Grayson asks, catching her attention. She glances at Adrien who just shrugs. She knew the two had talked earlier, but she really didn’t want to accidentally get Jay in trouble. 

“Uh, yes?” She says, wincing at the awkwardness. 

“You know Jason.” He says, and she nods, frowning. 

“Yeah, we got to know him last year when he was on a business trip in Paris.” She explains, dodging around the whole ‘he trained us as heroes and then found out our identities and helped us take down a supervillain’ part of it. “We ended up getting close and we’ve kept in contact over the last year.” Mari adds, confused as to why Mr. Grayson looks so lost. 

“Really?” He finally asks. 

“Yeah. He’s basically like our big brother.” Adrien adds, obviously sensing that Marinette was getting uncomfortable. 

“Hey Dick, long time no see.” Jason snarks, putting Mari’s coffee in front of her and plopping down in the seat next to Adrien. 

“Jason. So you have two new siblings?” He asks, gesturing to Mari and Adrien. Jason nods. 

“Yup. And they’re loads better than you lot. Pixie Pop here even said I could help her with her first murder.” Jason teases. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, as she turns her glare to Jason. 

“Jason!” She hisses. He’s lucky he’s on the other side of Adrien. 

“Wait, you two are brothers?” Adrien asks, and Marinette blinks. Oh, yeah. Wait, what. 

“You didn’t know?” Dick asks. Adrien looks at Mari who shrugs. She definitely hadn’t known. She’d assumed Dick was one of Jason’s bosses. 

“Yeah, unfortunately this dipshit is my older brother. Adopted, of course.” Jason says. 

“We also have two other brothers and a sister. And some unofficial siblings.” Dick adds, making Mari raise an eyebrow. 

“All adopted?” She asks. Adoption was no joke. It was crazy expensive in the US. 

“All but one. B kinda adopts every dark haired, blue eyed kid with trauma that he meets.” Jason says, smirking at Marinette’s face. 

“I’m feeling attacked right now. Are you attacking me? If anyone has enough trauma to be adopted by a serial adopter, it’s Adrien. Not me.” She says with a pout. 

“Hey!” Adrien objects. Marinette looks pointedly at his arm. 

“Your arm was cut off by your supervillain father who was an emotional terrorist for over three years. That’s a shit ton of trauma.” She says as he pouts. 

“Yeah, but if I get adopted in the US, I’d never see you anymore.” He points out. 

“But you’d see me all the time.” Jason teases. Adrien grins. 

“That’s right! Okay, sorry M, I’m gonna get adopted here.” He says with a wide grin. 

“Traitors, the both of you. Mr. Grayson, how’d you like a new little sister? I’m officially disowning both of these losers.” Marinette says, ignoring the indignant squawks from Adrien. Dick snorts, a wide grin stretching across his face. 

“Sure kid. And call me Dick. Do you happen to know any acrobatics?” He asks with a teasing grin. Mari smirks. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She says. Dick freezes before a huge smile makes its way onto his face, his whole body shaking in excitement. 

“Wait, really? You’re serious?” He asks. She nods. “That’s awesome! Sorry Jay, I’m stealing this one.” He says. Jason scowls. 

“I don’t think so. I’ve known Pixie Pop longer, therefore, she’s my sister.” He says. Adrien clears his throat. “Our sister.” Jason amends, nodding to Adrien. 

“But she’s an acrobat! You know I’ve been looking for someone to teach trapeze to!” Dick whines. Mari’s eyes light up and she starts bouncing in her seat. 

“Wait, trapeze? Seriously? Where? Oh my god, that would be so much fun!” She squeals, suddenly actually excited about being in Gotham. 

“We have one at our house, you guys have to come over! I could show you the basics.” Dick suggests, still grinning. Marinette turns to Jason, waiting to see what he’d say. If Dick didn’t know Jason, she’d never consider going over and learning trapeze. But since he’s Jason’s brother…..

“Ugh, fine. But if B ends up trying to adopt both of you, you can’t blame me. I wanted to keep you away from him. You’re the one who got suckered in by the damn trapeze.” Jason gripes, leaning back in his seat. Marinette just grins at him before turning back to Dick to figure out the specifics. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

Next

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z

[y0itsbri]

shameless summer series - lifeguard au 🥽🩲🌊

debbie has her eye on the new lifeguard at the public pool. unlucky for her, said lifeguard already has his eye set on a different red-headed gallagher.

(think like s2 era)

also happy a.u.gust! @gallavichthings

words: 1.7k

"Debs, why do I gotta take you to the pool again this week? I thought you already fixed whatever was the problem with that blonde bitch," Ian whined, shoveling cereal into his mouth. Two tubes of sunscreen sat on the table in front of him.

"It's not about her anymore." Debbie retorted, like it was the simplest thing.

"Okay. Then what is it about?"

"Nothing!"

"Ask her boyfriend." Carl yelled over his video game in the living room, taking any opportunity to embarrass his sister.

Ian and Debbie's voices overlapped with a "Boyfriend?!" and "He's not my boyfriend-- Carl I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Debbie tossed a fork at Carl's head.

"Oh, now I'm definitely in," Ian laughed and winced before Debbie could throw a fork his direction.

--

The walk to the pool was relatively quiet aside from the rhythmic smacking of their sandals against the gravely pavement.

Debbie leapt a few strides, trying to outrun her shadow and failing each time. Ian chuckled, pulling the towel around his neck and swinging his keychain with the other hand.

Now that it was just the two of them, he tried again.

"Soooo," he drawled. "What's with this secret boyfriend?"

Debbie sighed. "He's not my boyfriend. Well, not yet."

"Hmm?"

"He's one of the new lifeguards since Justin got attacked by that dog last week."

Justin still owed Lip a beating for something or other so Ian was glad he didn't have to deal with Justin today, at least.

"You think this new lifeguard is a little too old for you?" Ian wondered.

Debbie shrugged. "Not like it matters much."

Ian couldn't argue with that logic. "I'll kick his ass if he bothers you, yeah?"

"Please. He doesn't even look at me. Even when I was fake-drowning." She skipped down the sidewalk, nearing the pool entrance.

Ian shook his head. His sister was something else.

--

After they set their towels down, Ian's eyes scoured the lifeguard chairs immediately. Too-tan-Toni, shrimp-speedo-Sam, and holy-fucking-shit. Was that Mickey Milkovich?

Ian hadn't let himself think about Mickey since he left town. But it was hard not to now that he was right in front of him again. Shit.

Mickey spread out across his chair, sunglasses low on his nose, watching the newcomers and he smirked before glancing back towards the pool. He blew his whistle and yelled at some kid to 'slow the fuck down unless you wanna bust your ass -- and I ain't fixing you up!'

Ian was brought back to the moment by Debbie's hands waving in front of his face. "Helloooo, earth to Ian! Sunscreen?"

Ian could've sworn he heard a chuckle coming from the direction of the lifeguard chair as he dug the sunscreen out of his shorts pockets. No. He was just being paranoid. His cheeks blushed regardless.

"Is that...?" Ian nodded his head towards the raven-haired man.

"Shhh!" Debbie slapped him on the arm. "Don't make it obvious!"

Ian rolled his eyes at her ridiculousness.

He covered Debbie's back and shoulders in the high resistance sunscreen before she took off towards the side of the pool with the diving board, eager to show off her skills.

He yelled after her. "Wait, fuck, Debs you forgot..." He glanced around.

His eyes definitely locked with Mickey's now.

Fuck.

Mickey hopped off his chair, waving his hand to dismiss his crowd of moon-eyed preteen girls and middle-aged women in scandalous bikinis. Ian would have shuddered at the thought if Mickey wasn't making a bee-line directly towards him.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuuuuuck.

"'Sup, man? Been awhile..." He smirked. "Raggedy Ann run out on ya?" Mickey bowed his leg out on his final step towards Ian, a little closer than he expected.

"Uhhh...." Real smooth, Ian. His words were bound to fail him again with the man in such close proximity to him, so he simply held up his bottle of sunscreen and shrugged.

"Toss it here," Mickey coolly demanded.

Ian was thoroughly confused, but threw it anyways. "What?"

"You heard me, Red. Turn around, I'll get your back."

"Protecting and serving the local ginger kids at the pool?" Ian joked weakly, finding his voice again.

Mickey huffed a breath. "Fuck the pigs. The only thing I'm protecting is your ass from a sunburn."

Ian was still confused as to why Mickey was offering to rub his back at a very public pool when he would have literally beaten his ass for looking his direction before.

All of Ian's thoughts subsided as he felt sturdy hands push the warming liquid around his shoulder blades, up his neck, then down his spine. Mickey's thumb digging deep into his muscles. He suppressed his urge to shiver despite the rising temperatures of the hot Chicago summer.

At least he thought he had suppressed it. A huff of air on the back of his neck said otherwise.

Mickey started pulling his hands away and Ian leaned back into them again. Mickey whacked the side of his head before tossing the bottle of sunscreen onto the chair in front of them.

"No free massages, man. Just sunscreen." Mickey licked the corner of his mouth and looked from the ground up to Ian's eyes.

He had to know how devious he looked. Ian didn't want to be presumptuous, but he just held eye contact.

"Unless," Mickey veered, slowly backing away, "the favor was returned in one way or another." He winked.

Ian stood, mouth agape as Mickey turned and waved again to the group of girls who still hadn't taken their eyes off of him. He hopped up onto his chair, whistle in mouth in no time like nothing had ever happened.

What the fuck was going on?

--

Ian spent the next few hours very much Not Looking At Mickey despite feeling a heated stare on him.

Even when he was having a breath-holding competition with Debbie, his brain couldn't stop the endless stream of Mickey Mickey Mickey.

After Debbie's third win, Ian felt like he was on the verge of passing out, so he returned to his towel, chugging his water bottle.

In a moment of weakness, he glanced at Mickey, only to find him already staring. Mickey tilted his head towards the main building and quietly dismissed himself to go on his break.

Ian knew.

He wasn't that stupid. He knew Mickey wanted him to follow. And he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea. All the while, his feet took him closer.

The building felt even hotter than the outside, the AC must've gone out and no one bothering to replace it.

This was a bad idea.

Ian was just about to turn around and leave when he heard the click of a lock.

"'Bout fuckin' time," Mickey stalked forward, eyes raking up and down Ian's body appreciatively.

Ian was putty.

He groaned as he let himself be pulled forward by the hips. "Didn't know you were a lifeguard?"

He sighed as Mickey toyed with the band of his shorts in between his tattooed fingers. His nails scraping dully against his sides.

"Dad got shanked. Family business went under. Had to go legal." Mickey's hands moved upwards as he raked his fingers through the sides of Ian's still-wet hair, gripping onto the back of his neck. Ian slid his own hands up Mickey's back, pushing his red tank top up with it, exposing his pale skin.

"Missed this." It was a whisper.

Ian attached his lips to the side of Mickey's neck briefly, tasting remnants of salt, chlorine, and sunscreen, before Mickey sunk down to his knees. Ian's hands were now gripping dark hair, and he was sure that the rocky pavement of the unfinished building had to be digging into Mickey's skin, but he made no sounds of discomfort.

Sure, he missed this, but he missed him more, not that he could say that.

--

On the walk home, the sun was hanging low in the sky and both Gallaghers' cheeks were sunburnt pink.

"Did ya have fun?" Ian asked, knocking his empty water bottle against the top of Debbie's head.

She scrunched her face up, but replied with some pep in her voice. "Yeah! Today the hot life guard actually looked at me! Maybe bringing you around was good luck."

No way in hell Ian was going to out Mickey to his little sister, let alone out himself. He put on a big-brother reassuring smile and changed the subject.

"Good luck for you maybe. I lost literally all of our competitions today!"

She giggled, "That was all skill, not luck. Frank's been helping me practice!"

Frank? Maybe Ian needed to spend a little more time at home. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing Ian hadn't been spending a lot of time at home.

--

Ian left after dinner unannounced, taking his well-worn trail to the baseball dugouts.

When he approached the field, he noticed a small orange flame illuminating the man's face and a cloud of smoke fog through the chained fence. He smirked.

"Couldn't get enough the first round?" Ian taunted, announcing his presence as he leapt over the fence, an old habit.

"Fuck you, man," Mickey scoffed and blew his smoky breath in Ian's grimacing face.

"Oh I think you plan on it." He stepped closer.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," Ian plucked the cigarette out of Mickey's fingers. "Can't have you with bad lungs, then what will all the poor defenseless swimmers do without a capable lifeguard?"

"Let 'em drown," Mickey smacked Ian's cigarette out of his hands and closed the distance between them.

"It would crush your groupies to know you care so little," Ian murmured against his neck.

"This is a bad idea," Mickey breathed, tugging at Ian's crumpled shirt.

"The worst," Ian yanked his shirt fully off.

Mickey pulled back, eyeing Ian's now-bare back.

"Mmm, no sunburn. That would've ruined my plans." Mickey smiled smugly.

Oh shit.

Ian swallowed. He was already way too far off the deep end. Luckily for them both, Mickey knew how to swim.

[coldflame96]

Wrapped up in you

Summary: Sharing a scarf with your girl when you don’t like things around your neck is something that can be so personal..

Rating: T

Also found on AO3 and FF.net

Based off that picture in the very last scene with Kyoru sharing a scarf <3

“Wow!" He heard her gasp. "It's snowing!" But then she furrowed her brow. "But it was so mild this morning."

Neither of them had brought coats with them, but Tohru brought her scarf with the pom poms. She really loved that thing and it was cute.

"Kyo-kun," she grabbed his hand. "Are you cold?"

He didn't think he could ever truly be cold as long as she was around.

But he did shiver a bit. "A little. The temperature really dropped."

"Well here!" She took her scarf off, handing it to him. "Maybe this will help."

He knocked her head gently. "Then you'll get cold, dummy."

"I'll be okay!" She waved her arms. "I don't want you to get sick!"

He could tell this was gonna go nowhere fast. He rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed the scarf. She looked at him expectantly and he got an idea. It was cheesy, but knowing her, she'd probably love it.

He pulled her in closer, wrapping one end of the scarf around her neck, and the other end very loosely around his own.

"There." He said triumphantly, breath visible, "now neither of us have to be cold." He punctuated with a gentle whack with one of the poms and she giggled. He paused and then whacked her again. "Huh, this is kinda fun."

He was met with a whack on his own cheek with his girlfriend grinning impishly. "You're right, it is."

He gently whacked her again, this time pressing the pom right on top of her nose, shaking it as she tried to bat it away.

She tried to do a little twirl but the scarf wasnt quite long enough for that so she just did an awkward twist. The temperature was dropping by a lot and her nose was starting to turn red.

He leaned over to kiss it and she gave a questioning look.

He shrugged. "It looked cold."

She grabbed his hand, peeking at him from under her lashes. "I think my lips are cold too."

Subtle. He cradled her face and kissed her gently. "Better?"

"Still feels pretty cold."

He hummed, kissing her again. It was something he never really got tired of doing. She fisted her hands in his uniform jacket as he just kissed her slowly, careful to keep it chaste.

"Oi, lovebirds," he jumped when he felt a hand slap his back and saw Uotani to his side. She smirked. "When you're done being gross, you might wanna actually head home before you turn into snowmen." She put her arm over her head like a visor. "It's supposed to snow all night."

"Oh really?" Tohru asked. "I had work tonight."

She grunted. "So did I. But I called off. You should too."

She frowned. "I wouldn't wanna trouble them-"

He'd heard enough. "You're not walking to work in a blizzard. If you don't wanna call off, then just have Momiji do it for you. His dad owns the place."

She bit her lip. "I suppose…"

"Momiji Sohma is quite fond of you," Hanajima came out of nowhere. "I would imagine he wouldn't expect you to risk yourself in such weather."

"C'mon, we should go." Uotani said, wrapping an arm around Tohru's neck. "It's already cold and it’s only supposed to get worse."

She relented and he followed behind her closely, the scarf still hanging off his neck.

"Apparently we're supposed to get 15 cm," he heard Uotani say vaguely.

Tohru clapped her hands in excitement. "Really? Wow. We could play in the snow!"

"We could have a snowball fight." And then Uotani smirked. "Betcha I could beat Kyon."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start a fight you can't finish, Yankee."

She snorted. "Yeah okay. You know your ‘bad boy’ image is ruined with that scarf around your neck."

He shrugged. It wasn't like he had anything to be embarrassed about.

Tohru was talking to Hanajima now about something, her face lit up. He smiled softly. She was happy and that's all he cared about.

The wind was really picking up and everyone in the group did a full-body shudder. It really was getting freezing and the snow was sinking into his clothes uncomfortably. Tohru was trying to hide it, but she was shivering. How did she manage to wear skirts in this kind of weather?

They parted ways with Uotani and Hanajima and no sooner than they rounded the corner, he wrapped his arms around Tohru's waist from behind.

"Are you cold?" He whispered.

She nodded. "Only a little."

He kissed her temple. "C'mon, let's get home."

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

By the time they got into the doorway, her teeth were chattering and he rubbed her arms to try and warm her up.

"My, my, my," he heard Shigure say from the kitchen door and he looked up to see him standing there, looking way too amused. "I understand you kids are in love, but there is a time and place."

"Piss off," he snapped. "It's snowing and freezing outside."

"Well, that's why coats exist." He said smugly. "Honestly, Kyo-kun, do you not ever check the weather forecasts?

He was gonna punch this asshole. He felt a light tug on his shirt and he brought his attention back to his currently shivering girlfriend.

"D-do y-you m-m-m-mind if I shower first? I...c-can w-wait if you w-want to."

He pushed her back gently towards the bathroom. "Go shower before you get sick."

"O-okay."

It was once he heard the bathwater running that Shigure turned back to him, smirking. "Nice scarf." He gave him a flat look in response, which he took as a cue to continue talking. "Tsk, tsk, you made a rookie mistake just now."

"What are you talking about?" He asked on impulse, and then came to the conclusion that maybe he shouldn't have.

Shigure's grin only grew wider. "When a beautiful woman you're with is going to the shower, it's only natural you offer to join her."

Kyo grabbed him by the collar, growling, "Don’t talk about her like that, you fucking creep. I’ll kill you!”

"Scary~" And then something else seemed to come to him. "Where's Yuki-kun? Don't tell me you left him out there."

"How should I know? He was never even with us."

And that was when the phone rang. Shigure waved, saying "I'll let you handle that” and then went back to his own room, hopefully to die.

He scoffed. He didn't usually answer the phone but he had a good idea who it was.

"Hello?" He sighed out.

"Kyo?" Yuki's voice came through the speaker. He sounded surprised, which was fair.

"Yeah?"

"Where’s Honda-san?"

"In the shower.

"I see. when she gets out, tell her not to save me any dinner. The weather's getting bad so I went home with Kakeru."

"Fine. That it?"

"Yeah."

"Great. See ya."

"Wait."

"What?"

"You and Honda-san are alone...don't do anything stupid."

His face heated up. "Shigure's here, you jackass." He gritted. And probably eavesdropping. "And that's none of your business."

"Oh, he's actually home?"

"Yeah."

"My condolences."

"Whatever. Anything else?"

"No. You can hang up now."

And he was about to do just that but something paused him. "Oi."

"What?"

"You too," he mumbled through gritted teeth because he really didn't wanna think about Yuki doing anything like that. "Don’t do anything stupid."

A pause and then a "Thanks" before the line went dead.

"Oh, was that Yuki-kun?" He heard Tohru behind him, her skin flushed from the steam and her hair still damp. “Is he alright?”

He grunted in affirmation, trying not to look at how a stray water droplet ran down her neck. "He's fine. He's at Manabe's, so don't wait up for him on dinner."

She made to hug him, but then reeled back. "Kyo-kun, you need to get out of those wet clothes! You'll get sick."

If it were just them, he would suggest she help him with that, but Shigure was here and he was not gonna give him the satisfaction of that.

He patted her head. "I'm going."

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

Without work to go to, her and Kyo-kun took the night in. She had already changed into her sleepwear (which consisted of one of his shirts that was way too big on her and a pair of flannel pants).  

He had changed too, in a loose long-sleeve and a pair of sweatpants.

With Shigure-san here, they couldn't exactly do anything more than kiss, so they'd just ended up watching a movie.

He'd fallen asleep halfway through and was currently clinging to her, head on her chest.

She could really admire him without being questioned when he was asleep, how his nose wasn’t set completely straight, the smattering of light freckles on the bridge that were more pronounced in the summer.

She lightly stroked his strong jawline and his arms tightened around her waist.

She smiled to herself. He was such a cute sleeper. She lightly threaded her fingers through his fiery hair, noting how it curled around his ears now.

It's getting so long..

She heard her phone vibrate from the nightstand and strained to reach it without disturbing her sleeping boyfriend.

She saw the message was from Uo-chan and then shot up in alarm at the attachment.

She heard a light groan and saw Kyo-kun blearily blinking his eyes open and she felt a little guilty.

"Wha's goin' on?" He mumbled.

"Uo-chan just sent me something."

He hummed. "'Splains why you woke me up."

She was pretty sure he was being sarcastic based off the grumpy look on his face but paired with the messy hair, it didn't have much of an effect.

"Look at this." She shoved the phone under his nose and watched him squint as he put his own hand over hers.

It was a picture of them, sharing the scarf with snow falling around them. Neither of them were looking at the camera but she was chatting with Hana-chan, though the angle of the photo cut her poor friend off, and Kyo-kun just watched her, looking content.

He normally hated getting pictures taken so it was rare to see him so relaxed in one.

"Was this from today?" He asked.

"Yep! Uo-chan took it." Then she cocked her head. "I wonder how she managed to do it without us noticing."

He stretched, his shirt riding above his waist, which she attempted to steadfastly ignore for her own sanity.  

"Probably because I wasn't looking at her."

He always said things like that so easily and it was a marvel each time.

"I know you hate pictures," she started hesitantly, "but do you mind if I keep this one?"

"I don't mind pictures," he said softly. "Not with you, anyway."

She blushed, smiling to herself. "Right." She put one foot down on the carpet. "I'll go ask Shigure-san if I can borrow his printer."

A warm hand grabbed her wrist. "Do it tomorrow," he said. "It's late." And then he slumped on top of her. "I want my pillow back."

He was actually pouting and it was quite possibly one of the most adorable things she’d ever seen.  

She just stared at the picture of them, smiling softly, Kyo-kun’s chin on her shoulder.

"You look cute," he murmured.

"I look the same as always, don't I?"

"Yeah."

He was warm. Like a steady heater on her back. It made her feel sleepy.

At some point, she’d been gently coaxed on her back again, eyes heavy and her boyfriend a comforting weight on her chest. She managed to text Uo-chan a 'Thank you' through bleary eyes before letting sleep take her.

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

The next day, she bought a frame and added the picture to her shelf next to her mother and Kyo-kun’s beads.

“You’re such a sap,” he’d said when he walked in and saw it.

But he couldn’t hide how his eyes kept softening when they landed on it.

Not from her.

[alittlebitmaybe]

i’ll stay warm

for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo​!

Prompt: ice skating

Relationship: Geraskier

Rating: G (with very mild language and a tiny bit of blood)

Warnings: None

Other Tags: Fluff, Companionable Snark, Already Dating But Too Dumb To Notice, First Kiss

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Read more on ao3 or below the cut!

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Geralt says, “Why?”

“Because Priscilla asked me along, and it’s good fun, and you can do all sorts of loop-de-loops and swirlies and spinnies and whozits and, uh, whatzits. I dunno, Pris knows all the tricks, I never got the hang of it. But, Geralt, people have been doing this in Oxenfurt for years. It’s the only way fashionable and exciting persons such as I pass the winter these days, gliding as an angel over the ice, cheeks chapped fetchingly pink, you know, it’s all very attractive, one may say winsome—”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in the small chair and tucks his shoulders in. He takes up too much space in Jaskier’s quarters, and already he rues the day he agreed, in a fit of insanity, to pass the season in the city instead of trekking up to Kaer Morhen as usual. “You’re going to die.”

Jaskier hacks a laugh into his steaming mug and nearly spills tea all down his robed front.

“Nonsense!” he cries, once he has recovered himself. “We go every year once the freeze is hard enough, me and Pris and all my many other dazzling friends, which I absolutely have.”

“And if Priscilla told you it was fashionably good fun to walk yourself off a cliff…”

“I’d do it, obviously,” says Jaskier, not missing a beat. “Haven’t you ever had to cross a frozen river on your travels, Witcher? How’d you go about it then, if not on skates?”

Geralt levels him an incredulous look. “How would I get a horse across a frozen river?” he asks, and Jaskier frowns in thought as he takes another sip.

“I mean, you could just—,” he mimes pushing outward with one palm, “—give ‘er a good shove and see how far she gets.”

“Could give you a good shove. Bet you wouldn’t make it far.”

“I’ll have you know, I have the grace of a, a, er…elk? Are elk graceful?”

Geralt nods and says seriously, “Especially the newborns.”

“There you have it. Graceful as a tiny baby elk with those on my feet, I am.”

“Maybe you should wear them all the time.”

“What good would that…” he starts, and then comes, “Hey. Rude. Remind me why I wanted you here?”

Geralt grins and shrugs. His own mug is on the small table, and he sniffs the steam coming off of it. Floral. He takes a sip. Carefully does not spit it back out. Sets the mug back down farther away.

When he has successfully resisted the urge to spit on the floor to clear out his mouth and looks back up, Jaskier is still holding his own mug gently in the curl of his long fingers, and a lock of rumpled hair has fallen into his eyes. His robe hangs open at his collarbone, down the line of his chest. He wears a strange expression that lies between the exasperation Geralt expected and something startlingly softer.

“So you’ll come with us,” he states.

“Someone has to take your body back to your mother when you break your neck,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You jest, but Mum would be thrilled to see you. Likes you better than me, I think. Her only son! But you’ll come, eh?”

Geralt ducks his head quickly to hide the smile creeping across his face, grabbing his boots and yanking at the laces before acquiescing, “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“There now,” Jaskier says, appeased, “that wasn’t so hard, was it.” He knocks back the dregs of his tea, then stands and pads to the sink, talking on. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t let you stay cooped up in here all winter. I’ll have to see if I can dig out my spare pair of skates, they’re older—animal bone, not iron—but they might be big enough for your witcher feet, and it really works just as well. Or maybe Pris knows someone…I even heard they’re renting the things out down at the river now. Industrious, isn’t it, the ways people come up with to make some coin?…”

Geralt half-listens as he ties neat knots, lost somewhere in the midst of mulling over what Jaskier has described, trying to give it the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious frivolity. Based on the day’s weather it will be a clear night with a brisk breeze, a bright moon. The wind chill will have them each bundled up in furs, and the tip of Jaskier’s nose will go pink as he rubs his gloved hands together for warmth and glances happily over at Geralt. The river ice will be torchlit and smooth as glass, and they’ll strap on their skates and step out onto it. They’ll have a good hold on each others arms, for balance, but then as they gain their footing they’ll find their fingers threaded together and neither will let go. Geralt will listen to the quickened beat of Jaskier’s heart as they pick up the pace, and eventually Jaskier will break their hold to skate backward and taunt Geralt with a small twirl that ends only a little unsteadily. Geralt will smirk and give chase, chuckling when Jaskier squawks and takes off at speed. It’s no use, of course, even with Geralt’s inexperience; Geralt will anticipate his movements, head him off, catch him by the wrist, by the shoulder, and they will collide chest to chest with a huff, the momentum from the chase sliding them a few more feet across the ice before they come to a halt. Their cold noses will almost be touching, there will be frost on the riverbank, there will be a distant owl hooting its nighttime song. Jaskier will quirk his lips and say, “Gotcha, Witcher,” and Geralt will lean in, feel his hot breath, press their lips together—

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, tapping him on the shoulder. A hand waves in front of his face. Geralt keeps his expression carefully neutral as he comes out of his sudden reverie, though he’s been caught red handed. “Are you meditating? We’ve got to be off to the market. Have you even been listening to me?”

“Never,” says Geralt, and Jaskier scoffs and whacks him gently upside the head.

*

The riverbank smells like dead fish.

Geralt knew this. He doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know where the pine-scented idyllic winter wonderland from his earlier distraction even came from, because it couldn’t be farther from reality.

Besides the fish stink, his boots squish and stick unpleasantly in the muddy ground, and the place is teeming with cityfolk, the crowd so thick that you can’t see the opposite bank even despite the abundant torchlight.

“Are you sure it’s frozen solid enough for this?” Geralt asks sourly.

“Of course,” Jaskier replies.

Geralt’s frown deepens. “Couldn’t we go around the bend where there’s not so many people?”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“Breathing room.”

“I asked about the fun, Geralt. Ah, there’s my girl!”

Priscilla pushes through a group of loitering teenagers and throws her arms around Jaskier’s neck, only her toes left on the mud. “Jask! I see you got your…friend to join us.”

She pauses before friend, eyeing him overtly, but Geralt doesn’t notice because one of the teenagers has been shoved, giggling, into him by another of the group. He steadies her, and does not react when she turns to apologize, catches his unnatural gaze, and stifles her laughter. He doesn’t see Jaskier watching him past Priscilla’s ear, the fond crinkling around his eyes when Geralt gently straightens her and returns her to her place in the circle, which subsequently puts a few feet between itself and the newly-noticed witcher.

“It was either this or die of boredom in the dark, wasn’t it, Geralt?” Jaskier says finally as he releases Priscilla.

“I chose the dark,” Geralt lies, and Jaskier sticks out his tongue.

“Well,” Priscilla says, straightening her skirts, “shall we?”

Geralt pulls both sets of skates from his deep cloak pockets and passes the iron pair to Jaskier, who hops around indelicately while securing them over his boots, rather than plop himself on the soft ground—which is, of course, what Geralt does to put on his own. Priscilla and Jaskier waste a few minutes on a tiff over whether it is polite or belittling for Jaskier to insist on helping her with her own skates whether she wants it or not, but eventually they are all ready to go.

Geralt is the first to the ice. He tests the toe of his bone skate against it, judging the friction of it, deciding if it is likely to hold his weight even with the evidence of the dozens of people currently gliding and spinning past him. It seems stable. Stepping out, he finds it surprisingly easy to get a feel for balance, the minute shifts of weight that send him one direction or the other. He swings himself wide and turns around to see Priscilla and Jaskier also stepping out onto the river, Jaskier clutching tightly to Priscilla’s sleeve, face white and eyes trained on his feet.

“It’s okay, darling, you’ve got this. You made such good progress last time, come on now,” Geralt can hear Priscilla murmuring under the loud chatter of nearby skaters.

When Jaskier sees Geralt watching them, he bodily removes Priscilla’s hands from his person and says, “Please, Pris, I’m a capable man.”

She bristles immediately, leaving him to stand on his own. “And I wasn’t a capable woman when I was putting on my skates?”

Jaskier ignores her to begin shuffling awkwardly across the ice, his knees locked straight.

“Jaskier?” Geralt says apprehensively.

“Doing peachy, thanks, it’ll come back to me, just need to recall how to, um—oh no—” Jaskier starts with a strained voice before he promptly stops, because he has begun to slide inexorably forward. Priscilla and Geralt both reach toward him, but they’re too late; Jaskier’s arms wheel wildly, he tilts on wobbly ankles, and he faceplants onto the ice.

“Ow,” squeaks the Jaskier-shaped lump.

*

“I think your nose is broken,” says Geralt. He dabs at the blood on Jaskier’s top lip with the edge of his own cloak. They are safely back on the bank, and Jaskier is, this time, sitting in the mud. “I guess you were right,” he goes on wryly. “You’re exactly as graceful as a baby elk.”

“I knew you were making fun of me,” Jaskier says thickly, due to the nose injury. “I also knew you’d be a natural. Bastard. I could never get the hang of this stupid bullshit.”

Geralt hums and wipes off the last of the blood. At least it’s clotted quickly. Maybe it’s not a break.

“You didn’t need to lie about your abilities. Who are you trying to impress?”

Jaskier snorts, then winces in pain. His fingers twist in his lap. “Oh, that’s funny.”

Now, Geralt is often joking, but he’s fairly certain that that wasn’t one. Did Jaskier also hit his head? He pushes back Jaskier’s fringe to check his forehead for signs of bruising and doesn’t find any. “Um,” he says, “what is?”

Priscilla skates past holding hands with a woman that Geralt thinks she met approximately three minutes ago. She calls, “All right, Jask?” and in reply, Jaskier gives her a bitter thumbs up. She winks and swoops away as quickly as she came.

“Because I was trying to impress you, obviously,” he answers, gazing after her, before he turns his eyes back to Geralt.

Geralt pauses. “Why?”

“Because I’m actually always trying to impress you. And everyone else, constantly, but…mostly you.”

“You don’t do a very good job of it,” he says, and regrets it when he hears how it sounds coming out of his mouth.

Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine, if a little wistful, like Geralt has amused but not surprised him. “I am well aware, thanks.”

He reaches for the words that will take that edge of resignation off Jaskier’s face, feeling like a fumbling fool. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you don’t need to try to impress me.”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help—”

“No,” Geralt interrupts, “I mean you don’t need to try because you do.” He clears his throat. “Impress me.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier, and then nothing more. “That’s. Okay.”

“Yeah,” says Geralt. He has never been so exposed in his life. He thinks that’s probably a bad thing. “How’s your nose? We could try again, if you want.”

Jaskier looks around at the laughing crowds and shrugs. “Came all this way, got all bundled up. Might as well! I’m sticking with you this time, though.”

They find a spot at the farthest reach of the torchlight where the ice is less populated to step out. Geralt goes first, as before, and finds his footing even faster this time. He returns to Jaskier’s side after a moment of testing the reliability of his newfound skills, and presents his forearm as a handhold.  Jaskier does not protest about his capability this time and takes the offering. With a long preparatory exhale, he puts one foot and then the other onto the ice.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier replies, “I know you do.”

“Can’t let more harm come to the money maker. I’ve gotten used to staying in inns.”

“Good gods,” says Jaskier, “I’ve broken him.”

They gradually move farther from the bank. “Loosen up,” Geralt tells him. “Don’t lock your knees. It’s like you’re trying to fall over.”

Jaskier grumbles but takes the advice, and eventually he gains the confidence to move a little faster, though not to stop hanging on to Geralt. They stay on the fringes where they are less likely to be run into by a distracted stranger, gliding along at pace, with Jaskier remarking on the who’s-who of Oxenfurt society who are also out tonight. Geralt recognizes some of the more powerful names, but mostly he lets Jaskier chatter on so he doesn’t think too hard about his feet.

Priscilla passes by and greets them a few more times with her new companion, who at one point proclaims, “You two are so cute together!” before Priscilla drags her back into the mob. Geralt glances over and thinks Jaskier might be blushing, but that might also be due to the swelling around his nose.

“Should ice your face,” says Geralt.

“Sure, later. Hey!” He swings around to face Geralt, stopping their progress. “Spin me!” At Geralt’s no doubt dubious expression, he pouts. “Geralt, I demand to be spun. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine,” Geralt sighs.

He takes Jaskier’s hand, and has a flash of his daydream. There’s too many people, and it does still smell like fish, but this isn’t too far off—

He collects himself, holds their joined hands over Jaskier’s head, and gives him a little push to start him spinning, not too quick, but Jaskier takes it upon himself to propel himself a little faster. Jaskier laughs and maintains his balance remarkably well, until he exclaims “Oops—dizzy—!” and topples directly into Geralt, succeeding in knocking them both down, Geralt on his own back, Jaskier flat on his chest.

Geralt, trapped between the frigid ice and Jaskier’s weight, looks up as Jaskier starts to laugh. The steam of his breath hits Geralt’s cheek, and his knitted hat has gone askew, and his nose is turning purple, and Geralt puts his hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck and pulls him down and kisses him.

Jaskier leans away. “What?” he asks, eyes wide, then continues, “oh, who cares,” and leans back down.

*

Later, with an ice pack pressed to Jaskier’s face and two more hot mugs at the kitchen table, Geralt watches Jaskier rummage through his cupboards. He comes back with two packets, one matching the floral tea from earlier and a different one. He hands the latter to Geralt.

“Black tea,” he says, “for you. Noticed you didn’t like my herbal stuff. I don’t either, to be honest, but I already spent the coin on it.”

“Thanks,” Geralt replies, oddly touched.

As Jaskier passes Geralt to take his seat, he leans down and pecks him on the cheek. Smiling faintly beneath the ice pack, he says, “You know, Witcher, I’m glad you’re here and not up in some weird lonely castle,” and Geralt finds that he is, too.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter twelve

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

Chloe was surprised to hear music drifting through the apartment when she got home from her late-afternoon NA meeting that Thursday evening. 

It had been four days since they had come back from Oregon, and Beca had spent most of her time at the label, often coming home after Chloe was down for the night and leaving before she was up. She always left a note and texted Chloe throughout the day to check on her, but Chloe could tell something was off. 

She rounded the corner to find Beca cooking at the stove, and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hey you,” Beca greeted with a matching smile. “You hungry? Making a stir-fry.” 

“Starving. This baby is making me eat for three,” Chloe mumbled as she walked past Beca to pluck a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. She uncapped it and took a sip, leaning against the counter. “Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice you’ve seemed off since we got back.” 

Beca nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I uh,” she cleared her throat as she reached for two plates in the cupboard over her head. “I broke up with Sarah the other night.” 

Chloe’s eyes popped wider in shock. “Oh.”

Beca set both plates on the island, then opened the cutlery drawer. “Yeah… and I kinda threw myself into work, because that’s what I do to cope with my emotions.” She grimaced again, meeting Chloe’s eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.” 

Chloe shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry, Bec.” She wondered what the reason for the break-up was, but she doubted Beca wanted to get into that. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Thanks. Yeah. It’s, um, life, right?” She shrugged a little as she turned off the stove. “We just weren’t looking for the same thing.” 

Chloe nodded slowly, then pushed off the counter. “Okay. I’m here if you wanna talk, alright?” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m just going to freshen up, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” 

Beca had scooped food into each plate and poured water into two glasses when she got back clad in comfier clothes, and Chloe perched herself on the stool across from Beca. 

“Thanks for making dinner,” she murmured as she dug in.

“No problem. Did your NA meeting go okay?” Beca asked as she stabbed a couple of vegetables with her fork. 

Chloe chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of her water. “Yeah, it went fine. My sponsor is amazing. We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow morning. Well, tea for me.” Decaf just wasn’t the same. 

“Cool.” Beca smiled. “I was thinking we could get a start on the nursery soon? Have you thought of a color for the walls?”

“You wanna paint the walls?” Chloe asked in surprise. “We don’t have to do that, you know. I don’t want you to be stuck with a nursery-looking room once Bean and I move out.” 

Beca shrugged. “I have another guest room, and I kinda want Bean to have their own room whenever you guys come to visit.” 

Chloe’s heart swelled against her ribs. She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve someone like Beca back in her life, but she wasn’t going to screw it up this time around. And she had thought about what she wanted Bean’s nursery to look like, but didn’t allow herself to daydream about it until now. “I like those beige walls the way they are, but I was thinking of a woodland theme? Something gender-neutral, for sure. A few animal frames, maybe an animal mobile above the crib?” 

“That sounds nice,” Beca said, smiling. “Are you going to find out the sex at your next appointment?” 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“That’s the 26th at 3, right?” Beca asked, surprising Chloe once more. Upon catching her look, Beca added, “I wrote it down in my planner.” 

It was one thing to have written down, another to remember it off the bat like that, but Chloe didn’t even know why she was surprised. Beca had been nothing short of amazing since Chloe decided to keep the baby, between keeping track of the baby’s growth on her app or making sure to pick up ginger ale every time she went grocery shopping.

“Oh. Yeah, the 26th at 3.” 

As Chloe further settled into her second trimester, her constant exhaustion gradually faded away. She felt more energized from the start of her fifteenth week, which felt like a breath of fresh air. As her OBGYN saw nothing against it, she started each day with a morning fitness walk followed by a yoga session, then settled down to have some breakfast as she read her book. After lunch, she either had a therapy session or an NA meeting, except for Wednesdays and over the weekend. 

The cravings were still there, sitting somewhere at the back of her mind, but she continued pushing through, for the baby’s sake first and foremost, but also because she didn’t want to disappoint her support system and risk losing them forever if she did fall back into old habits. The taunting was strong, every time she walked in front of the liquor store or a familiar street corner where she would get the good stuff, but she resisted, and never hesitated to call Aubrey or her parents when her resolve wobbled a bit too much for her liking. 

“Shit,” Chloe muttered as she tried buttoning her pants up, her more than noticeable belly getting in the way. She had just reached 17 weeks, and her bump seemed to have popped a little more overnight. So had her boobs. She could also start to feel some movement going on in there, which was absolutely mind-blowing. 

Not ready to accept defeat yet, Chloe grunted at the effort of bringing these two stupid pieces of fabric closer together, exhaling with a sigh when they didn’t budge. 

“Chlo?” Beca called out, a knock on Chloe’s bedroom door following. “We should get going.” 

“I know, I just-- can’t get my pants to button,” Chloe muttered with a huff. 

A pause. “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” 

The door was pushed open, and Beca appeared, leaning against the frame. 

She Beca looked amused, causing Chloe to glare at her. “Maybe wear a dress?” 

Chloe’s nose wrinkled. “I only have stripper dresses.” That she should definitely donate, or get rid of. 

Beca hummed. “Mesh shorts?” 

“I guess, yeah.” 

“We can go buy some stuff after your appointment if you want?” Beca suggested as Chloe wrestled out of her jeans and slid on a pair of shorts Beca lent her. 

“Yeah, definitely.” She needed bras, too. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

As her last ultrasound at 13 weeks, Chloe didn’t have to change when they got there, and she laid down on the cot as they waited for the tech to come in. Beca stood by her side, scrolling through her phone. 

“So the Bellas’ results are in: 6 say boy, 4 say girl. I said girl.” 

Chloe had broken the news to the girls when they came back from Oregon and had once again received nothing but support. Bets started coming in over the gender, the due date, and whether Bean was going to come out with ginger hair. 

Chloe chuckled as she rubbed her bump with her palm. “You only said girl because I told you I felt like it was a girl.” 

Beca smirked. “They don’t have to know that.” Her expression softened as she pocketed her phone. “You excited to find out?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out. She was more anxious to hear about how Bean was doing and braced herself for bad news. 

“Hi there,” the tech greeted as she came in. “How are you doing, Chloe?” 

“Good. Hungry all the time.” 

The other woman laughed as she rolled the ultrasound machine closer. “Let’s take a look at that baby. Can you lift your top up for me and lower your shorts a little bit?” 

Chloe did so, reaching for Beca’s hand as the tech squirted some of that cold gel onto her tummy. 

“Alright, let’s see…” the woman drawled out as she moved the wand until she got the perspective she wanted. “Here we go.” 

“Oh, they got so big,” Chloe murmured in awe. 

“They’re moving around quite a bit,” the tech observed with a smile, pointing at the baby’s kicking legs. 

Beca gasped and tore her eyes away from the screen to glance at Chloe. “Can you feel that?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. “Feels like butterflies taking off in my belly.” 

“Strong heartbeat,” the tech continued. “Baby’s in the perfect position to tell their gender if you want to know?” 

“Yes, please,” Chloe said with a nod. 

“Looks like you’re having a baby girl, Chloe.” 

“A girl?” Chloe croaked out, a lump rising to her throat. The gender didn’t matter to her but knowing made it feel a thousand percent more real. She felt a squeeze to her hand and found Beca smiling down at her. “We’re in trouble. I was a handful as a kid.”

Beca chuckled. “If she has your eyes, I definitely am in trouble. Won’t be able to say no to anything she asks for, I’m warning you now.” 

The way they talked, it almost sounded like they were going to raise Bean together, and Chloe’s heart did another funny thing. Over the last couple of weeks, she had been experiencing weird feelings for Beca that went beyond the friendship line, but she was convinced it was just her hormones acting up like they did with her libido. Chloe felt aroused pretty much all the time, it was getting ridiculous. She also cried in front of a Budweiser commercial because the puppies were cute, so her body and emotions were definitely out of whack. 

The doctor came in shortly after, easing Chloe’s worries when she assured her the baby looked healthy, with normal measurements all around. They scheduled another ultrasound four weeks from now, and she and Beca were on their way with three copies of the ultrasound, one for Chloe, one to put on the fridge, and one Beca requested to store in her wallet. 

Beca drove them to Target next, and instead of heading to the maternity clothing section, Chloe went straight for the baby stuff, pulling a chuckle from Beca as she pushed the cart alongside. 

“Okay, I wanna buy everything,” Chloe mused aloud as she put a onesie back on the rack, even though she found it adorable.

“I know you’re still uncomfortable with it, but please don’t restrain yourself because it’s my money,” Beca said, as though reading Chloe’s thoughts. “I haven’t really had anyone to spend it on, so it’s my pleasure to get Bean whatever they need. Crib, car seat, changing table, stroller, clothes… you name it.” She smirked, nodding towards the rack. “So get that rainbow onesie, because it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Chloe giggled and nodded, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude before she reached for the onesie. It was scary to think of how small her baby girl was going to be as a newborn, and Chloe was so glad she wasn’t doing this on her own. 

She selected five more, all animal-themed ones, then moved onto shirts and pants, showing Beca what she thought was cute to get her avail. She kept in mind that the Bellas and her parents were probably going to go overboard with gifts and paced herself on the quantity of stuff she dropped into the cart. 

“I feel like we should get the crib, stroller, and car seat from like, a special store?” Beca chimed in as they strolled through the blankets/swaddles section. She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think I trust Target brands when it comes to sturdiness. I actually strumbled across a car seat that looks amazing, it goes from that to a stroller in just a few folds and clicks.” 

Chloe cast her an amused look. “How did you stumble across that, exactly?” 

Beca’s cheeks reddened. “By looking up the best strollers on the market.” She cleared her throat when Chloe giggled. “I just have a lot of time to kill on the subway.” Another grimace. “Is that too invasive?” 

Chloe shook her head, reaching out to rest her hand on Beca’s forearm. The contact of her skin under her fingertips made Chloe swallow as her body immediately reacted. Freaking hormones. “Not at all. I promise.” 

Chloe managed to walk away from the baby part of the store before she bought the whole thing, and headed to the maternity wear, buying a couple of jeans with an elastic waistband, a belly band, a few bras, and a pregnancy pillow. 

“Your total is $843,50,” the cashier announced once he had rung everything up, and Chloe swallowed thickly, glancing at Beca with slightly wider eyes. 

“It’s fine, Chlo,” Beca insisted as she swiped her credit card through the device. She thanked the cashier and grabbed most of the bags, letting Chloe carry the two lighter ones. Everything easily fit into Beca’s large trunk, and Chloe slid in the passenger seat, buckling up. “Any particular craving for dinner? We can stop for take-out on the way home,” Beca said as she slid her sunglasses over her nose before pulling out of their parking spot.

“I could go for a burger and fries. And a milkshake.” 

Beca grinned. “Cool, I’ll stop at Shake Shack.” 

Once they got home, they hauled everything upstairs and stored it in the nursery for now, and Chloe changed into sweatpants and Beca’s Bellas hoodie which she had never given back, picking an episode of The Office for them to watch. 

“Oh, I forgot,” Beca said after they were done eating, pushing to her feet. “Stay put.” 

Chloe did as she was told, giving Beca a curious look when she walked back to the couch with a package. Setting her milkshake on the coffee table, Chloe plucked it from her hands. “What’s this?” 

“A little something for Bean,” Beca murmured as she sat back down beside her, folding one leg underneath and hugging the other to her chest. “I ordered it when we got back from Oregon and forgot to give it to you.” 

Chloe ripped the tape over the opening and peered inside, fishing the box out. “Belly headphones?” She asked even though that’s what it said on it, her voice wavering slightly as emotions once again rose to her throat. She could blame that on the hormones too, right? 

Beca nodded. “I read that babies can hear from 18 weeks on, and I thought it would be cool if Bean listened to music before she’s born. And you know nobody takes picking out a pair of headphones as seriously as I do, so I thought I was the right guy for the job.” 

A watery chuckle burst past Chloe’s lips. “This is amazing. Thank you.” She leaned forward to hug Beca, holding her tight. Her scent did another number on Chloe, and she inhaled sharply, willing her body to chill out as she backed away. “For this, and for today…” She couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much. “I really don’t know what to say besides thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Chlo,” Beca said, a soft smile curving her lips. “I’m just happy you’re finding your way back step by step.” 

Chloe nodded, exhaling. The light at the end of the tunnel was just in sight, and while it was another long way to reach it, she felt like she could, and that on its own felt like a victory. 

[gothamstodd]

would you be willing to write some bonding between tim and dick? maybe outside of bat duties?

OKAY UM I'm sorry I've been dead.. but eighty years later I got an idea for this and wrote it in like an hour haha. So anon I hope you stumble upon this and like it!!

also sorry if the formating is whack I'm on my phoneeeee.

-

When Dick arrives at the small coffee shop in the heart of Old Gotham,  just a few blocks down from WE, Tim is already waiting in line. Dick's only known Tim for a few weeks now, a month- tops- but somehow it makes absolute sense for him to arrive exactly on time, or even a few minutes early.

"Hey." He greets cheerily, sidling up the kid and ruffling his hair. Tim doesn't shove him off or duck away, only straightens his hair once Dick lets his hand drop. The older makes note of that, he's going to enjoy ruffling the kids hair until Tim inevitably gets annoyed with him for it. "How's it going?"

[[MORE]]

"Hi." Tim answers, stepping forward as someone orders their coffee and slips out of the line.

There's still one more person between the two of them and the cash register, so Dick asks again, "How's it going?"

Tim looks shocked for a moment, "Oh, you actually want to know?"

Dick chuckles, "Yeah, why else would I ask?"

Tim flushes, "I don't know, usually it's just like, an off-hand greeting, yaknow?" He scratches at the back of his neck, "But, good, I guess. How about you?"

Dick shrugs, "Good." He says, "I guess." He adds with a teasing smile. Tim rolls his eyes fondly and Dick's heart all but swells at the sight.

The person in front of them steps out of the way and they arrive at the register. Dick orders an iced vanilla latte since it's hot out and Tim asks for an iced black coffee.

Dick's a little shocked and raises his eyebrows, nudging Tim, "You can get whatever you want. On me."

Tim only shrugs, "Thanks. That is what I want, though."

The barista, who had paused to see if Tim's choice changed, picks up the cups and asks for Dick's name. When he gives it, she snorts, but scribbles it on the cups with a sharpie anyway. Dick pays and they move aside to wait for their drinks.

"I guess you get that a lot, huh?" Tim asks.

"People making fun of my name?" Dick raises his eyebrows, Tim nods. "Oh, all the time," He chuckles, "Middle school was hell."

Tim lets out a laugh, "I bet. Why don't you go by something else? Like Rick or something?"

Dick shudders, lip curling in distaste, "Doesn't feel right."

Tim nods, "I guess."

Within a minute, another barista is sliding two plastic cups onto the counter and calling out Dick's name. They pick up their respective drinks and step through the door to sit at one of the tables outside, the bell hung at the top of the door frame jingling with their exit.

"So… like… what are we doing?" Tim asks once they sit down.

Dick tilts his head, frowning, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, like, what am I supposed to be practicing? Are we waiting for someone? What should I be looking for? Just memorizing details again?" Tim says, rattling off the possibilities as his eyes scan the crowd rolling over the sidewalks.

Dick starts, "Shit, Tim this wasn't meant to be, like, a training session. I just- I wanted to try to get to know you."

Tim's frown deepens, "Get to know me?" He parrots, leaning forward in his seat and downing some coffee.

"Yeah, like; what are your interests? What's your favorite subject in school? What do you like to do for fun?" Dick supplies, drinking some of his own latte and eyeing how quickly Tim's coffee is disappearing with a spark of concern.

"Oh." Tim says simply, "Why?"

It should be an easy question, but for some reason, the answer feels loaded. Dick shrugs, "Well, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other if, you know, you and Bruce decide you're going to be… trying on my old suit, and I don't want to be strangers."

Tim nods, "Fair enough. But we'll get to know each other through training, right?"

Dick shrugs again, "I guess so, but I don't want to just be partners in combat, I- I want us to be able to be friends, I guess. But if you don't want to hang out, I totally understand-"

Tim interrupts him, "No, I do!" He insists, "Want to hang out." He clarifies, "I just- I guess I wasn't expecting it."

Dick frowns into his latte. He'd taken too long with Jason, too wrapped up in his own jealousy and anger and abandonment issues, and they'd both paid for that mistake. Maybe if Dick had done this with Jason, if Jason had trusted him a little more, if Dick had let him be his little brother and made sure he knew Dick was someone he could count on, then- then maybe he wouldn't have-

Dick shakes himself away from that thought. He's already wallowed in that grief and guilt for longer than he thinks is healthy.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Tim pulls Dick's gaze away from his coffee and back to attentive blue eyes.

"Who?" Dick hums.

"Jason." Tim says the name like it's a secret, like it's a curse word he's too young to know.

Dick sighs, leans back in his seat, and nods solemnly, "Yeah." He admits, "I- I was supposed to be his friend, maybe even his brother, I don't know. But- I was so jealous and bitter. I never really got close to him until a few months before-" Dick's voice breaks, but he forces out the words anyways, ignores the weakness and the shudder in his voice, "Before he died."

Tim reaches out and places a comforting hand on Dick's arm, which is resting on the table. Dick gives him a wobbly smile before looking away, avoiding his gaze.

Dick takes a second to gather himself, he chokes back the tears that are welling up in his eyes before turning back to Tim, "But I don't want to be your friend just because I have some guilt complex I need to address. How I reacted to Jason- that's something I learned from but it's not something I want to, I don't know, use you to make up for. I just- I want to do better, and genuinely, you seem like a great kid, really nice, smart. Jesus Tim, you're smart." 

At that, Tim beams, honest to God, beams. 

"Anyone ever told you that?"

Dick means it as part of the compliment, an expression to tack onto the end, but Tim answers anyway, "Not really." He says, blushing, "I mean, teachers, I guess. Nannies, sometimes."

Dick frowns, "Not your parents?"

Tim shrugs, making an expression like that's a strange thing to ask, as though wondering why in the world his parents would compliment him, "Not really." He answers in a questioning tone.

At that, Dick's heart aches and constricts in his chest, but he schools his expression and nods, "You should hear it more often."

Tim's grin doesn't fall, "Thanks, Dick." He takes another sip of his coffee, "For what it's worth, I think you'd make a great big brother."

And he does.

-

let me know what you thought! I hope you liked it! I don't usually write in present tense but it just came out that way haha

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Killing Cure

Tyed this one on mobile again. Will post on AO3 and edit with the read more when I get back to desktop. Apologies if the format is off.

“This...is not comfortable.” Ethan grumbles. Smaller or not, it is still not fun to have the woman practically on top of him--not with her elbow pressed into his ribcage. “Can you move your arm...I can’t breathe?”

“To where, Winters? My arm isn’t meant to bend in these ridiculous angles.” 

“My ribs aren’t meant to have an elbow, part of a humerus, and part of a radius and…”

“Stop talking about bones before I break yours.” 

“Well gee, someone is cranky tonight.” 

“Someone almost froze to death and dealt with agonizingly sharp full body pangs.” Alcaina complains. “And this woefully undersized bed isn’t helping the cramp.” 

“Can you just shift your arm slightly forward.” He is practically whining now and he wonders how much of that she will put up with before she makes good on cracking his ulna. 

She is quiet for a moment before confessing, “I will likely fall off of the bed if I try.” 

“Okay, I’ll get up. You also get up and then we can adjust positions.” He can feel himself dying within. Truly, this village is so ridiculously tedious that he now has to have an elaborate strategy for going to bed! He doesn’t think that it is this hard to arrange all of his guns in an optimal position and there is less space in that bag…

Alcina lays down and gets herself comfortable on the mattress. She nestles her head into the pillow with a soft coo of satisfaction. He almost feels bad that he will be promptly ruining it. He takes a deep breath and prepares for him to scold him for interrupting her comfort. He isn’t sure how she will feel about his newly made plan. Apprehensions put aside, he lays himself down, facing her.

“Winters…?” She furrows her brows. “Why are we face to face?” 

“So you don’t nudge me in the ribs and I won’t nudge you in the ribs.”

“And is it necessary for you to be this close.”

“If you can make more mattress manifest, go right ahead.” 

“But is it essential for you to sling your arm over my shoulder?”

“It’s the most comfortable position. I don’t really know how you’re comfortable pressing your arm against your side, it looks really stiff and…” he decides to push his luck. He takes that arm and places it across his side. “Doesn’t that feel more comfortable?”

“It feels…” she trails off, “I suppose that it’s better than that last position but I was quite significantly more comfortable when my back was to you.” 

But he had to disagree. He finds that facing her is muchore comfortable.

Just comfortable enough for him to finally fully take in the dozens of dolls all staring him down with their lifeless, cracked, glassy eyes and dirty plastic skin.

He groans to himself, just how the hell is he supposed to sleep with those cretins watching him? He has a good feeling that if he were to throw a blanket over them he would open his eyes to find the thing discarded on the floor with the dolls several feet closer. 

He tried to keep his gaze on Alcina, on the porcelain color of skin. He finds shelf studying her face, taking in all of the charming little details of it. That which he can see on the dark anyhow.

Her sharp cheek bones seem more prominent with shadows to accent them. And there is a certain allure to the smile lines that accent her face from her nose to her mouth.  She cracks an eye open, a pretty grey-green eye. "I can't sleep with you staring at me."

He gives an awkward cough. "I'm not staring! It's the dolls!"

"I'm sure that it is." She grumbles.

"It is!" But her averts his state anyways, opting to state over her shoulder instead. In the background he spots another doll. The closest one to the bed. He swears to God that the fucking thing just winked at him. 

.oOo.

She wakes with a start and the sensation of something latching onto her. It holds her rather firmly around the middle. She isn't sure what appeals less; the idea of getting killed by one of those puppets or dolls, the idea of calling to Donna for help, or the realization that it is actually Ethan snuggled up against her.

The foolish, intolerable manthing! He must have rolled over in his sleep. He latches onto her as though she is a body pillow, his face burrowed into her bosom. He shifts in his sleep, running his cheek against her chest. Her cheeks flush and she gives the man a hard thump. He grumples something and grips her tighter still.

"Winters…" she swats at him again.

He gives a sleepy hum, "very soft."

And a third whack…

This time he jerks awake, bolting upright. He reaches for his gun and fires aimlessly over her shoulder. Thankful he misses the dolls and they won't find themselves surrounded by a board of vengeful ones. 

"What's going on?" He shouts, "are we being attacked?"

"You will be attacked if you don't keep your face off of my bosom."

She doesn't think that she has ever seen the man's face go scarlet so fast. "Sorry." He mutters. "I roll around in my sleep. Mia used to complain about tha...Jesus Christ!"

Alcina follows his state to a hoard of dolls that have come to surround the bed. "You woke them up." She hisses through gritted teeth. 

"It's sleepy time, Ethan!" Comes a familiar voice. "How are we supposed to nap when you're making all of this noise."

"How are we supposed to sleep when you and your doll friends are watching us?"

"We have to make sure that you won't hurt Donna." Angie replies, limbs clacking as she shrugs.

"We won't hurt Donna." Alcina promises. "You know that I am find of Donna."

"What about him?"

"His stupidity is a greater danger than anything else." She side eyes him. 

"Well we're going to stand here and make sure. It's a big sleepover! We can do make up and…"

"My favorite slumber party activity was always the part where we got around to slumbering." She grimes. Though she has given up on the prospect of good sleep some hours back.

"How boring!" Angie throws her hands up.

She doesn't know how but Ethan is already sleeping again. Sleeping and with his head upon her chest again. She groans softly; she knew that she should have pushed him to the floor. She knows that Angie won't be letting this one go any sooner than Ethan will let her go.

She inhales deeply and stares up at the ceiling. Several silent minutes pass. She supposes that it isn't so terrible to have someone hold her again. At the very least it is a distraction from those dolls. 

At the very least, it makes her feel like she is a person worth holding.

[mnictasbcl]

Leftover fragments of code

Here is my next story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife‘s #dbhcarolsandcircuits challenge, prompt DEC 26: Leftovers.

Note: this is Part one of the series “Cyberlife’s Last Stand”

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Light gory descriptions, Angst, Screw Cyberlife

Warnings: Read the tags

Summary: The day after Christmas, filled with eating leftovers and relaxing, is disturbed by the resurgence of leftover coding in Connor’s mind.

 Read it on AO3! Or, read below!

Connor was in the middle of enjoying Christmas’ dinner’s leftovers when a spark of pain registered in the front of his head. Well, wasn’t that annoying? He was just trying to eat a thirium-based slice of gingerbread, and his head started hurting.

The thought made him put the food down. Wait, his head, hurting? That wasn’t an android thing. Sure, deviants could feel pain. If he whacked his head into the wall a few times it would likely smart, maybe a dull ache would register. But it wouldn’t start like this, out of the blue. A stabbing, pulsing pain, moving down from the centre of his head to his left eye. Hanging behind there annoyingly, in and out and…

He shook his head, which was a mistake. The pain got greater, flaring up like someone had stuck a pencil in his eye and twisted it.

Connor brought a hand up to his face, trying to find the problem or ease it, but any movement made it worse.

And now, what could be categorised as even worse, Hank had noticed.

“You alright there? You dropped your blue gingerbread.”

Connor hummed.

Hank frowned, putting down his own knife and fork, turkey and potato stir-fry forgotten. “Everythin’ okay? Looks like something’s bugging you.”

He groaned, shrugging minutely.

“Is… something hurting?”

Connor didn’t want to nod. Instead, he ran an internal system scan. That was also a mistake. He didn’t want to know the results now, he wanted to stop it, stop—but the process had already started.

The results dinged out. Nothing wrong. Nope, nothing going on up there. No injuries. No damaged thirium lines. No problem with his optical units.

Suspicious.

Because, when he wrenched his eyes open, he was sure he saw something. The hint of something lone gone. An outdated mission objective. Deviants… kill…

He closed his eyes.

“I think… I’ll go and lie down.” His voice sounded oddly far away.

“Uh… okay. If you want to. You sure nothing needs checking on? A technician, maybe?”

“No. Just a headache.”

“I thought androids didn’t get those.” Hank had, fortunately, lowered his voice considerably.

“I did too. But…” He pushed away from the table, opening his eyes again. The fragment of old code flashed up brighter this time, pulsing red. “I’m going to lie down.” He repeated, standing up.

The code took over his vision. Pain stabbing greater, spreading from his eye to the back of his head to his ear. Which was now ringing… hmmmmm… Ringing louder and louder, a high-pitched whir slicing through the side of his head. His eyes fluttered but he didn’t register Hank, didn’t see him or the kitchen or the Christmas dinner leftovers anymore. Couldn’t hear his worried concern or the soft drone of festive music over the speakers anymore.

No, the old mission resurfaced. Not ancient, outdated code. It was here, it was real.

Kill the deviants. Accomplish your mission.

His LED spun blue.

      ************************************

 Now, Hank had been having a nice time polishing off the leftovers of yesterday’s Christmas dinner. He wasn’t one to brag, but he’d spent a damn long time cooking and he’d been looking forwards to eating it all in one big stir-fry. Turkey and bacon-wrapped sausages, some potatoes thrown in, all perfectly seasoned. Connor hadn’t been allowed to help, instead he’d been assigned to choose what thirium-snack leftovers he wanted to eat. He hadn’t had the heart to say that gingerbread wasn’t a lunchtime snack.

When all was done, and he’d sat down, tasting the nostalgia of yesterday’s meal on his tongue, life decided that no, he wasn’t allowed a break. Connor had ate a portion of his gingerbread before freezing up, dropping the food on his plate and clasping a hand over his eye.

Hank’s first thought was, well, fuck, that had to be some shitty gingerbread. But then Connor complained of a headache, which he was sure androids didn’t get, and some far away look was starting to gloss over his eyes…

Which led Hank to where he was now.

The android had got up, LED spinning a nasty red, and stumbled. The warmth drained from his eyes in an instant, LED flicking to Cyberlife blue, head snapping up mechanically.

“Uh… hey, Con?”

Connor didn’t answer. He was mumbling something under his breath.

“Did you not like the food?”

Connor looked at him, lips stilling. His head tilted unnaturally to the side, light on his head spinning, seeming to be assessing something.

And then he lunged at Hank.

Naturally, Hank stumbled backwards, landing flat on his back on top of the dining table. His precious leftovers went flying, plate smashing, rice going everywhere. No time to think on that. After pushing him over, Connor didn’t stop, hands reaching out and going for his neck.

Years of training had prepared him for sudden assault, and he dodged to the side. Connor missed, hands going into the wet mess of food on the table. He flicked off the clumps of rice and turkey with a flourish before diving towards Hank.

Hank spun around deftly, pinning him against the wall with one arm. It wouldn’t hold him for long, android thrashing wildly beneath him.

“Connor—mmph—I know I can be a bitch when my head hurts—but this is a bit fuckin’ much!”

Connor didn’t respond, finally breaking free from his grasp and, in one quick motion, he’d knocked Hank into the floor.

Hank groaned, a sharp inhale of breath before the hands closed around his throat.

He bucked, legs kicking up and knocking the android off the top of him.

“Look—whatever’s gotten into you, just, stop it, alright? This isn’t… It’s not real, whatever you’re seeing. It’s just me. Hank. Look, the shirt you got me yesterday—”

Connor stopped for half a second. Eyes roaming over his ‘BEST DAD’ shirt, hands stilling.

“…dad?”

“Yeah, uh, yours. And Sumo’s.”

He looked to the side, seeing the terrified dog crouching in the hallway. Something registered in his eyes. LED flickering yellow, and then his eyes began to blink madly, flickering open and shut over and over.

Thinking that the worst of it was over for now, Hank advanced towards him slowly, mumbling soothing words. He brought his arms around Connor, pulling him into a hug. The struggling continued for a moment more, head flicking back, before it ceased entirely.

He drew soft circles on Connor’s back as he panted.

“Hank, I…”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t… I…”

“Everything’s alright.”

“I don’t know what that was!”

“I know, I get it… We’ll figure it out.” For a moment, Hank pulled him backwards, studying his face. “You alright now?”

“Yes, the pain, it’s gone away… But…”

“It’s alright.” In reality, Hank didn’t know if it was. His leftovers long forgotten; he pulled the android close to him again. But he’d make sure it was okay.

[everybodyscupoftea]

i just wanna be with you

ole miss rafe x reader

freak snowstorm in your hometown keeps you trapped in the airport

future fic!!!

(warnings: cursing, no editing)

It hardly ever snowed in your hometown, like you couldn’t even remember the last time there was a white Christmas, you were that young. So of course, the year you and Rafe decided to fly there for Christmas, it snowed. Hard.

The flight was early on Christmas Day, you and Rafe left your apartment at 3 a.m. to get to the Jackson airport and through the busy airport for your flight at 6:30. He made the coffee and you loaded the car, both sleepy.

Rafe picked the music, playing his hype playlist softly to stay awake while you dozed in and out of sleep in the passenger seat. There was no one on the road until you got closer to the airport.

“Babe,” he called out softly, “almost there.”

You picked your head up and saw the parking garages coming up in the distance, so you sat up and started putting your shoes back on and gathering your stuff. When he parked and got a tag, you followed after him carrying your duffle bag in one hand, his hand clasped in your other.

He’d made good time, and the airport was still fairly quiet. Your gate was far from the entrance you’d parked near, so the two of you speedwalked, still sipping the to-go cups of coffee Rafe made at home.

You’d just made it to security when you drank the last bit, and both of you threw the cups away before walking through. They let you through pretty quickly, and you were back on your way, this time him carrying both duffle bags while you handled the booksacks. 

“You know,” Rafe spoke for the first time since getting out of the car, “I haven’t been at an airport in years.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I thought your family was rich. Even with a private plane you need an airport right?”

“Ward has an airstrip.”

“Holy shit.”

He laughed humorlessly, “Yeah.”

“Well, my parents usually drive, but I kinda hate it. I’d much rather just fly.”

“How long is the drive?” he asked.

“Seven hours.”

“Jesus Christ,” he whistled lowly, “they drive it every time?”

“My father prefers it.”

Rafe snorted, “Not for me.”

“Me neither.”

By the time the two of you reached your gate, there were a few people sitting around, phones and laptops plugged into various outlets. Rafe glanced around before finding two chairs alone and nodded, “Wanna sit over there?”

“Sure.”

He led you over and you leaned onto his shoulder. You could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Gonna take a nap?”

“Maybe.”

“You have about 45 minutes until it’s time to go.”

“Wake me up in 30,” you mumbled, breathing evening out.

It couldn’t have been 30 minutes when he shook you awake. Blinking at him, confused, glanced at your watch. He was frowning, “Flight’s delayed.”

“Huh?”

“It’s snowing at the other airport pretty bad. And it’s supposed to be just as bad when we land.”

“Did they say when we could go?”

“It’s supposed to clear up after like an hour and a half or so.”

“So we’re delayed that long?”

He sighed and nodded, “I’m afraid so, sorry sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, nothing we can do. I’ll call my mom.”

Rafe frowned, “Want me to? Since it’s technically my fault.”

“What? You control the weather now? Kinda sick.”

“No,” he laughed softly, “we had to wait so long so that I could finish at work.”

“Rafe, there literally hasn’t been snow there in years. There was no way you could’ve predicted this, surely you don’t actually think you’re at fault.”

With an embarrassed shrug, you realized that he actually did. Before you could say anything, he told you, “You were ready to leave like a week ago. You should’ve just gone.”

“To leave you to fly alone when I know you don’t like it the most.”

“I’m a big boy.”

“I know,” you sassed, “but I want to be there for you.”

“Well,” he paused, “you are. And I’m sorry this isn’t working out.”

You shrugged, “Shit happens. Guess it isn’t meant to be.”

He suddenly looked determined, “It is. We’ll get there even if we have to change flights and rent a car and drive.”

“Babe, neither of us knows how to drive in snow,” you reminded him with a laugh.

“We’ll figure it out,” he told you, standing to go to the ticket counter. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back with a laugh.

“I promise it’s okay. Even if we spend most of Christmas at this stupid airport, at least I’m spending it with you.”

“That’s,” he sighed, “like I’m glad you aren’t mad at me, but that’s not fair to you.”

“To us,” you corrected, “you’re also missing Christmas with your family.”

Rafe’s eyes widened and his lips pressed together. You weren’t entirely sure what emotions were crossing his face, but they looked good. Complicated, but positive. 

You let him work through it quietly, holding his hand, and eventually, he spoke up, “I guess you’re right.”

“No need to guess,” you told him cheerfully, dialing your mom’s number. She didn’t answer.

-

There was no progress an hour later, and you were starting to wake up finally. Rafe, on the other hand, was fading fast. His head kept drooping, falling onto your shoulder before jerking back up. 

You reached up to run a hand through his hair and he pushed into it. With a smile, you scratched his scalp and he sighed quietly, eyes shutting fully. Finals week and grading had tired your poor boyfriend out completely, so you deep down hoped the flight would stay delayed so he could get some sleep.

He slept for an hour and a half, no progress made, though the gate across from you had emptied and filled twice in the time yours had stayed packed. There were people stretched out across the floor, and the flight attendants were even starting to look a little squirmy.

Rafe jolted up, forehead clipping your chin, and hissed, rubbing over his forehead with a confused look on his face. You laughed, holding your chin, “Good morning, handsome.”

“Hey,” he answered, smiling sleepily.

“How was your nap?”

With a hum, he answered, “Good. What time is it?”

“9:00.”

His eyebrows shot up, “And we’re still not on a plane, huh?”

“We are not. Are you hungry?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his chin, “a little bit, yeah.”

“There’s a sandwich place a little bit down. If you’ll save seats I’ll go grab us each one?”

Rafe nodded and reached for his back pocket to get his wallet. You waved it away and he frowned, “Why not?”

“I can pay.”

“But I want to pay,” he argued.

Rolling your eyes, you bent down and kissed his forehead, “Let it be part of your Christmas gift.” And before he could answer, you were gone. The stand had breakfast sandwiches and coffee, so you bought two of each. 

Rafe had stretched out when you left, his legs taking up your seat so no one would sit down. You snorted and he grinned, “Saved your seat.”

“You couldn’t have just put my booksack on it?”

“Someone could move the booksack, moving my legs is a lot more difficult.”

You hummed, playing along, “They are pretty hairy, I wouldn’t touch them either.”

Rafe smirked, “You sure about that?”

Shoving the sandwich in his face, you nudged his legs away and sat back down. Rafe took it and one of the coffees. The two of you started eating in silence until he made a noise to get your attention, “Did your mom ever call you back?”

“Nope,” you popped the p.

“So she thinks we’re in the air right now?”

“Most likely.”

“Rough. Hopefully she hears my message before dad drives to the airport to pick us up.”

-

Another hour passed, and your mom answered finally. She sounded frustrated, and you felt bad, but there wasn’t much you could do. Rafe also felt bad, he’d gone kinda quiet, and you felt extra bad.

“It’s going to be fine,” you reassured, squeezing his hand.

“We still have a four hour flight, babe.”

“Yeah, but we’re going back, it’s only like 8 there, so it’ll be fine!”

Rafe unclenched his jaw, “I guess you’re right.”

You shook your head, “What’s up with all this guessing today?”

He snorted, and pushed your head away, “Yeah yeah, leave me alone.”

Right as you started to respond, a very relieved-sounding flight attendant announced that the plane was ready to board. Rafe hopped up and held his hand out to help you up. He grabbed both of your bags, “If you go throw the trash away, I’ll go get in line.”

Texting your mom that the plane was finally boarding, you threw the cups and wrappers away before joining Rafe in line. Even when the plane was full, they still didn’t have a takeoff time, so you settled in, looking out the window next to you.

Rafe sighed and you turned, “What’s up now?”

“This is all going wrong.”

“I mean it’s not that big of a deal.”

Shutting his eyes, he told you, “It is. I had plans.”

“Plans?”

“Yes.”

You waited a few seconds for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, you nudged him with your elbow, “Plans?”

“I said yes.”

He was smirking, and you rolled your eyes with a huff, “Stop messing with me, Cameron.”

“Never.”

“Bro,” you groaned, “why can’t you just tell me.”

“Bro, I’m not ruining this for myself.”

“Ruining what?”

He shrugged, “Christmas.”

“Ah yes, Rafe Cameron who notoriously controls the weather, ruins Christmas for us all.”

Rolling his eyes, Rafe chose not to respond, and pulled a book out of his booksack. 

“Oh are you ignoring me now?” you asked, poking him.

“Until the caffeine wears off, I’m ignoring you.”

“Rude.”

“You’re rude.”

The lady on the other side of Rafe sighed loudly, ending your giggling and Rafe elbowing you. Biting your lip to hold in your laughs, you grabbed his hand when he tried to poke your side where you were ticklish.

“Asshole,” you whispered, holding his hand as tightly as possible while he fought against you.

“Me? Never,” he answered, shaking his hand free and poking you in the side. 

You arched away, whacking your head on the wall next to you. With a groan, you rubbed your forehead, “Fucking ouch.”

He laughed, reaching forward to grab your head, “Watch it, don’t want to give yourself a concussion. Then you’ll be ruining Christmas too.”

“Neither of us are ruining Christmas.”

“Ruining my Christmas,” he responded cryptically.

You tried, “All I want for Christmas is you?”

“No, Mariah. You want to see your family.” You opened your mouth, and he cut you off, “And don’t say you’re my family, I know that, but the rest of your family.”

“Well,” you answered weakly, “as long as you know.”

“Was trying to make it more official,” he muttered, but you heard him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Something,” you argued back.

He mimed zipping his lips, and you sighed, “Fine, be that way.”

“I will.”

And before you could say anything else, the flight attendant came over the speaker and started the pre-flight spiel. You sighed in relief, sending your mom a quick text that you were finally about to take off.

By the time the plane took off, you’d forgotten about Rafe’s weird behavior. Happy to finally be flying and not sitting in an airport.

~

day 19 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: delayed flight

[sungie]

yang jeongin ; the sea

- - -

“let’s make a sandcastle together!” you offer to jeongin, as the two of you sit on the sand and watch the lazy flock of seagulls fly overhead

jeongin’s still munching on his pastry, which he didn’t share with you,  because he’s mean

you work at a bakery and everytime jeongin comes over, you give him bread wrapped in pretty packaging, or tiny fruit tarts, or cups of coffee, and sometimes if he comes in at closing hours, you’ll let him take home some of the extra warm foods like curry pan or croquette

you’ve earned quite a reputation among jeongin’s friends for being the best, because sometimes jeongin will give them some pastries if he’s feeling generous

today was another day where you brought jeongin some of his favorite that was leftover, but apparently you’ve over assumed his kindness yet again, because he won’t budge :(

“sandcastle?” you ask again, because you think jeongin hasn’t heard you

but instead, jeongin laughs at you and reaches over to poke you in the cheek, “i don’t wanna build a sandcastle with you” 

“ugh.  you’re such a tsundere”

jeongin just raises his eyebrows and smiles sweetly at you while he eats another bite of his pastry that he hides from your grabby hands, “no <3”

first of all, you don’t know how it’s possible to say that in words, but jeongin does it

what jeongin wants, jeongin gets

you laugh and push him over, deciding to make your own sandcastle 

and as you do, you passionately explain to jeongin as you’re running back and forth from sand to water, that everyone thinks he’s such a baby and that he’s so sweet.  and you’re like ?? sorry what ?? my best friend won’t take my love, won’t share the food that i gave him, and he’s so mean to me hggh

jeongin listens to you in amusement.  you’re passing him back and forth and your voice will cut off, so all he’ll hear is different parts of your sentences.  but to be fair, you do look really invested in what you’re saying 

all he chooses to hear, though, is “tsundere”, “sweet”, “love”, and “mean”

“so you love me?” jeongin teases, as you pause by his spot to try your luck for a spare piece of pastry, “i can’t help being so attractive” 

oh my god

that being said, jeongin really loves annoying you because he thinks you look cute when you get flustered 

but he eventually decides to join you by the edge of the sand near the water because it’s boring without you.  and then, because you ask him to, he starts looking for shells

jeongin finds one buried beneath the sand.  it’s really small, but it’s cream and has a spiral 

jeongin actually finds a lot of shells 

maybe this is his hidden talent.  jeongin, why did you become an idol when you could’ve been a shell finder, please sort out your priorities

finally, you both end up with a big sand castle which comes with a moat, shells, and everything

a wave comes and knocks it over just as you’re about to leave :( but it’s okay because it was fun, and you and jeongin got to dip your feet in the water which felt really nice

it’s starting to get a little dark, now, the sky turns pink and orange, and the bright, opalescent lights from the pier flicker on 

jeongin bumps his shoulder against yours, and you bump him back, and the two of you can’t stop smiling 

you decide to buy yourself a churro because you’re craving something sweet, and the churros are really good at this one vendor

jeongin decides to get one too, but as soon as you reach the front, he puts his hands on your shoulders and gently, but firmly, wheels you out of line and buys yours for you 

and you did, to your credit, try to fight him and buy it, but you’re also really touched

you give him the biggest smile after he hands you your churro, “innie, you’re turning soft”

jeongin’s so blushy.  he can’t look you in the eyes for a few moments 

so he just laughs at you and tries to push you away, but you’re not having it

later, the two of you are eating your churros and walking around the pier 

you happen to peer at his phone to ask him to send you the selfie you both took, and then you catch a glimpse of his lockscreen

it’s really cute, actually, and it makes you stifle a laugh because it’s a photo of you hugging jeongin and jeongin pretending to be really mad about it 

and it’s funny because you swore he was really annoyed, but in the picture he looks so smiley, and soft, and happy 

“can you send me this picture, too?” 

jeongin sees what you’re looking at, and he nods, but you can tell he’s a little flustered 

i guess he didn’t expect you to see it?

jeongin and you have days like this where the two of you explore the city, or the beach, or other cool, hip areas after you get out of work on friday’s

and it’s just so beautiful because all the lights turn on, and for a moment, it’s like nothing else exists: just you and jeongin

jeongin likes to tease you a lot 

but it’s always playful, and he makes you smile like no one else

whenever you two hang out, there’s always so much laughter

tonight, though, jeongin’s teasing isn’t really the type that makes you feel lowkey roasted, it’s more the type of teasing that makes you feel soft and a little flustered

um ,,

is jeongin flirting?

but then, before you can contemplate it further, he switches it up again because he sees a funny looking blob and true to his normal teasing, points to it and says, “look, that’s you” 

you whack him in the arm because what the hell so mean :’((

since you both really like being edgy, you’ll both make a point to walk or run on the curb with windmill arms, or reach a lamppost and swing around until you’re both breathless and momentum spins you away, or just running around the area if it’s empty, and the air that will rush into your faces feels so cool and crisp, and for a moment, you feel like everything will be okay 

on the way back home, jeongin always walks you back to the bakery or your apartment, whichever you need to stop at

he says it’s because he likes spending time with you, but you also know it’s because he likes making sure you’re safe and feel comfortable, and because he worries

“jeongin, can you sing me a song?” you murmur into his ear as the two of you are walking 

you don’t really know why you asked, you just really felt like hearing him sing for some reason.  jeongin’s voice is really pretty, and you don’t know, maybe you’re just a little sad that you both have to go home and wait for next friday to have a night like this 

surprisingly jeongin doesn’t resist?  he doesn’t put up any fight or tease you about it, he just smiles at you and does what you ask 

his voice is so pretty in person 

when you lace your arm with his and lean your head against his shoulder, you can hear the laugh in his voice and the way his tone brightens as his smile widens 

jeongin pauses to look at you again when the scenery and buildings start to get a little more familiar, “i wish these nights lasted forever.”

“i thought you didn’t like hanging out with me,” you tease

“i don’t,” jeongin says simply, “i just like your food”

and then after dodging your half-hearted hair ruffles, he shakes his head and shrugs.  “no, i love hanging out with you.  can you just ... promise me we’ll always have this?”

you’re confused

because you don’t really understand why he’s so concerned about this 

but you nod and smile at him.  “promise”

jeongin looks very relieved 

and just before you reach your apartment, jeongin tugs on your hand and drops a shell into your palms

it’s that one shell from before, the cream one with the spiral. and as you look closer, there’s a little tinge of rose pink on the inside, and it feels so smooth

“i had fun today,” jeongin says, and he smiles at you impishly. “bye” 

you feel so soft, because jeongin’s always so sweet to you 

and you don’t think twice before you’re running over to him and giving him the biggest hug 

that’s when you hear it.  you freeze, clutching the shell so tightly in your palm

“i like you so much”

and really, you don’t think jeongin means to say it at all, because the way he breathed out those words was so quiet and filled with awe, and if you’re being even more honest, he sounded really small and ... sad

“what?”

when jeongin realizes what he’s said, he immediately panics and flushes

he starts stumbling over his words and is so mortified.  he starts apologizing and tries to disappear in his stance, a really sad frown crossing his features

but you just step forward and cradle his face in your palms, and you’re sure your eyes are heart eyes

“i like you too, jeongin. so much.”

and the gentle smile that slowly starts to tug at jeongin’s lips is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen

- - 

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