#also i was big out of town on business and pulling very long hours about it

[camgirlkaminari]

hey my friends and i are watching the bnha musical where kurogiri is basically shiggy's vape pen but with glowing eyes (in real he's a smoke machine we think) and we were wondering what flavour vape he is? i thought you would know the answer to this.

ok so first of all, SO glad you came to me with this. this is so important. initially, my first impulse was to say OBVIOUSLY since he is purble, he must taste like grape. but then i was like no that's too obvious. too simple. perhaps he is blackberry. or funnier, watermelon breeze. or whatever. but I can't choose there's so many hilarious flavors he could be. my man is the reanimated corpse of a seventeen year old who is in charge of a bunch of unhinged 20 somethings, perhaps he is whatever Slapple Menthol™ must be. or, considering this is shiggy smoking this man, perhaps he is a clove situation: no tobacco, all spice (all the sigma males smoke clove.) eventually, defeated, i had to consult my crack team of scientists (goof chat) on this matter and it was very much a consensus:

he purble. so he taste like

[mrderondncefloor]

“anything? that right?”

old!logan howlett x f!reader

summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him

wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)

authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea

warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.

your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.

logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.

“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.

“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.

needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you��re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

[1-800-hwahui]

romance at mistletoe inn

member  |  seungcheol x reader genre  |  smut, some fluff word count  |  ~4,600 warnings  |  reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, very very soft dom!cheol, sub!reader, wap reader, monster cock cheol, like seriously his dick is BIG, size kink (it comes with the territory wbk), strength kink (?), oral (m receiving), oral (reader receiving), grinding, deepthroating, motorboating, praise, slight manhandling, creampie (they don't talk about reader taking birth control so PLEASE do not be like them irl), cursing, cheol is Whipped, they hold hands :(, teeny bit of aftercare oops sorry, reader's mom accidentally cockblocks, please ignore that the plot actually makes Zero sense this is just pure sex atp notes  |  this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called mistletoe inn! however, this can be read as a stand alone, you don't have to have read the other part to know what's going on here. for the heathen @onlymingyus. i hope you enjoy. p.s. thanks to @duhnova @heartkyeom for making me insane while i wrote this. i know i say this every time but this time i mean it when i say this is definitely the filthiest thing i have ever written - 💒 june

a knock on cheol’s door brings him out of the book he’s reading. it’s late in the evening and it hasn’t stopped snowing all day, leaving everyone at the inn snowed in. at least for the next day or so until the city snow plow comes around. he slides a bookmark into the pages and sets it on his nightstand, grinning as he walks towards the door.

as it usually is every winter, the inn is practically empty, except for one guest. it’s a small town, and people don’t come to stay unless they’re visiting friends or family.

cheol’s really enjoyed talking with you the last few days. he’s learned that you came to surprise your parents, but they’d actually left town without telling you to spend their christmas in hawaii, leaving you alone in a city where you don’t know anyone. 

he doesn’t mind being your friend for the week you’re here– in fact, he loves it. you’re great company, and after a little not-so-subtle prying he’s also learned you’re single. with your work less than an hour away by plane, the distance isn’t bad, and if he’s been reading the situation right, he’s hoping you might feel the same. it’s been too long since he’s taken a break, since he’s traveled out of the little town he’s lived in all his life. maybe it’s time to pass the inn along to someone else in his family. but for now, one step at a time.

of course, it’s you standing on the other side of the door. he can’t help the way his face lights up when he sees you. “hey, what’s up?”

you smile back shyly. “just bored. are… are you busy?”

he grins. “not anymore.”

“do you maybe, wanna, come to my room?” you ask. “i made cocoa.”

“of course i would,” he says, shutting his door with a quiet squeak.

fifteen minutes later the cocoa is long forgotten as you desperately press your lips against seungcheol’s, hands roaming everywhere across each others’ bodies.

you’re suddenly very grateful that you packed your nice pair of panties for a trip that was supposed to be for visiting your parents. and you’re also very grateful that you wore them tonight, just in case.

the muscles in his shoulders flex as he yanks his shirt up and off with one swift movement. you watch, until his hands are back on you, whining as he pulls on the hem of your sweater. you giggle and lift your arms so he can help you tug it over your head.

“can i?” he breathes, reaching for your bra, his gaze fixated on your chest.

you nod, and strong arms wrap around you, carefully unhooking your bra behind your back. you hold the fabric in place with your hands as his fingers tenderly slip the straps down your shoulders. 

when you finally let go, allowing the material to fall to the floor, seungcheol inhales sharply. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps.

he looks up at you for permission, and you smile. hands still clasped behind your back, he pulls you over to the chair by the couch, sitting down so his face is level with your chest. 

his hands glide over your skin, pushing your breasts together and shoving his face in between them with a groan that reverberates in your ribcage. you moan and he lets go, hands skating down your sides to rest at your hips as he leaves wet kisses along the curve of your boobs.

your fingers find his head, weaving up through his hair. he shakes his head back and forth and his hands grab at your ass, roughly kneading the skin. his mouth moves to one of your nipples, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.

his lips leave your breast with a pop, half-lidded eyes looking almost drunk with pleasure. you shimmy out of your pants, throwing them out of the way but keeping your panties on. 

cheol’s eyes widen and his hands fumble to remove his own jeans, shaking as he slides them down his muscular legs. 

you sink down onto your knees, settling between his legs. he groans when you look up at him with wide eyes, tentative hands resting on his thighs. god, his thighs… just one is probably bigger than your entire head. 

your fingers dance at the band of his underwear, nervously toying with the elastic but not going any further yet. he’s only half-hard beneath the fabric, but you can already tell he’s big, way bigger than you’re used to.

you must’ve paused for too long, because he reaches down to cup your cheek, bringing your gaze back up to his. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks gently, his voice breathy and low. 

your cheeks heat up, not used to hearing that pet name on his lips. “um, you’re just, uh… big,” you squeak out, a little embarrassed to admit to him.

his expression softens, relieved that he hasn’t done anything to hurt you (yet). “you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, his tone lightening a bit.

immediately you shake your head, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “i want to,” you say sincerely. “just– don’t know if i can.”

he smiles like you’ve just told him he won the lottery– and with you, he might as well have. “we’ll go slow,” he promises.

you exhale and gently tug at his underwear, finally releasing his cock. it’s big, like you expected, and covered in pretty veins. you wrap your hand around him, but he’s so big, your thumb and index finger aren’t even close to touching. so you add your other hand, completely gripping him, and he moans at the sight of his cock resting in your tiny hands.

you’re just about to put your lips around his tip when you hear your ringtone go off. you whine in annoyance at being interrupted and move your head away from him, taking your hands off of his cock and laying them on his thighs. 

“who is it?” you ask, nodding up at your phone on the table next to seungcheol.

he groans at the loss, but leans over to check your phone for you. “uh, it’s ‘mom’?”

you whine and reach out your hand. “give it here.”

“baby, please,” he grumbles, handing it down to you.

“i’ll be quick,” you whisper before accepting the call. he pouts and leans his head back against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling.

“hi mom,” you say into the phone, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intend.

“hi sweetie! how’s your trip going so far? sorry again that we missed you,” she starts, and you know you’re in for a long phone call. the woman could talk for hours, days even, and now is definitely not the time.

when you look up, seungcheol is staring at you again, a mischievous grin on his face. he puts a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet, then hooks his arms under you to help you stand. his hands slide to your hips, guiding and pulling you down onto his lap.

“mom, i’m– a little busy right now,” you choke out, trying your damn hardest to keep your voice steady with cheol’s hands on you.

“oh?” the surprise is evident in your mother’s voice. “i thought you didn’t have any plans? did you find something fun to do? you better not be working on work, i told you you’ve been needing a vacation for way too long! your boss can have whatever it is in the new year, you–”

cheol grips you tightly, rolling your hips against his dick, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. he looks up at you, wordlessly asking if you want him to stop. 

you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. as much as it mortifies you fooling around while you’re literally on the phone with your own mother, the thrill of being caught only turns you on even more.

“no, mom, i’m not working, but i am– busy,” you interrupt.

“well, do you want me to call back in a bit?” you can hear the frown in her voice, the tone she gets when she knows you’re lying.

“no!” you cry out as your clit rubs against the head of seungcheol’s cock, giving you a jolt of pleasure. “i–mean, i’ll call you later. when i’m done,” you recover, hoping to god she hasn’t noticed anything off about you.

“sweetie… are you at the gym?” she questions, and you breathe a sigh of relief that it doesn’t seem like she’s caught on to what you’re really doing. “i’m so proud of you, honey, i know you’ve been trying to do that more lately! well, i’ll leave you be then. have a good workout!”

well, you will be having a workout today… just not the kind she’s thinking of.

“th-thanks,” you stutter. suddenly cheol thrusts hard against you, and the movement makes you lose your balance and fall forward a little. you catch yourself on him, your hand flat against his firm chest. “bye, mom.”

“bye, sweetie! have fun!”

he shoots you a satisfied smirk and you sit back as you fumble to hang up as fast as you can, tossing your phone on the carpet behind you and climbing back down onto your knees.

you finally wrap your lips around him, fingernails gripping his thighs as you struggle to take him in your mouth. not only is he long, but he’s girthy, and you have to stretch your mouth open wide to fit him in. even then, you can’t fit all of him, so you put both hands back around the base of his cock where your mouth can’t reach and you begin slowly bobbing up and down, swirling your tongue around him.

his hips buck up roughly into your mouth and instantly tears prick at your eyes. “sorry,” he moans, but you just shake your head and keep going. he grips down hard on the armrests of the chair to stop himself from moving.

you can feel him hitting the back of your throat with every move and you know your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch later, but the almost melodic sound of his moans is enough to make you want to have his dick in your mouth forever. knowing that it’s you making him feel like this could give you enough energy to suck him off for days on end.

your abdomen throbs with neglect, but the weight of his cock in your mouth is too good to stop. if you didn’t literally need both hands to fit all the way around him, you would’ve already started touching yourself, but both your hands are… occupied elsewhere.

desperate for any kind of stimulation, you press your thighs together, shifting to rub them against each other. at the angle you’re kneeling you can feel the thin fabric of your panties pressing against your pussy, and you buck your hips, trying to get the lace to give you what you want.

but it’s nowhere near enough, and seungcheol notices when you whine frustratedly around his cock, eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking. he grips your head carefully, pulling you off of him with a groan.

you look up at him with watery eyes and he takes in the sight, your mascara smeared and running down your cheeks and your eyes red and wet from choking around him for so long. 

“can i eat you out? please?” he practically begs, breathing heavily.

“o-okay,” you rasp, the words coming out hoarse.

his eyebrows furrow as he catches his breath. he’d tried so hard not to go rough on you, to stop himself from fucking your throat. it’s only your first time with him, and he really, really hopes it won’t be the last, so he’s mentally kicking himself for losing control.

you see his worried expression, so you cough, trying to clear your throat. “i’m fine,” you reassure him, voice a little less coarse than before but still more than he would’ve liked. 

“are you sure?” he asks cautiously.

“mhm. please,” you whimper.

he smiles and wraps his arms around you, helping you stand. your knees crack and he looks concerned again, but you shake your head. “just sore from kneeling. don’t worry.”

you give him a reassuring look, and he finally relents. suddenly he lifts you with terrifying ease, carrying you across the room to toss you onto the bed like nothing.

he climbs on top of you, his face hovering over your lower half.

“you gonna give me a few, baby?” he asks, his tone saccharine sweet. “gotta prep you enough.”

you croak out a yes, watching his movements with vigilance as his calloused fingertips play with the delicate hem of your panties, teasing.

but he doesn’t move any further, just stares up at you through his eyelashes, and you assume he’s waiting for you to say something.

“p-please?” you sniffle, thinking maybe he wants you to beg him for it. and he does, and you would, but you both know that’s for another time.

he presses a light kiss to your cunt over the fabric, moaning into your skin. “god, you’re so good for me, baby. gonna give you everything you want.”

as much as he wants to rip your pretty little underwear off your body and eat you out like his last meal, he knows he has to start slow, give you both a chance to get used to what the other likes instead of jumping straight into the deep end.

so he keeps his eyes locked with yours as he slips the lacy fabric down your hips, carefully so as not to tear them by accident.

you’re embarrassingly wet from nothing at all, your panties completely soaked through. a thin string of your arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric, and he groans lowly, watching it break.

his gentleness is unbelievably hot, and you can’t deny that him being so deliberate with taking them off makes you want to let him rip them off of you in a heartbeat. so what if they’re your favorite pair? you’d buy ten pairs to replace them if you have to.

you lift your legs, helping him slide your panties off so he can toss them away. he settles back down and tenderly pries your thighs apart, setting each leg to the side and leaving you wide open for him. he stares at your pussy for a moment, glistening with wetness. his intense, focused attention on you makes you gush, your muscles clenching around nothing as he watches enraptured. using two fingers he spreads your folds apart, exposing your dripping hole to his fervent gaze.

“cheol,” you mewl out his name in desperation. 

“‘m right here, baby,” he says, his eyes flicking up to your face for a second to make sure you’re okay. you nod, silently begging him to continue. he cups your pussy, and the feeling of sheer size as his massive hand envelopes you is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

automatically your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his palm as you toss your head back and forth against the pillows, grateful to finally feel some relief. 

he coos and you throw your arm over your face in embarrassment at his reaction, sheepish about being so desperate for a man you only met a couple of days ago. but his response isn’t to tease you or degrade you, but to admire you. so needy, so beautiful. and for right now, all his.

his hand still cupped against you, he slowly slips his ring and middle finger into your hole, letting out a pleased hum when you immediately clench around him.

“so wet for me, baby,” he sighs, gently curling his fingers inside you but otherwise keeping them still to let you adjust. “you’re so fucking sexy.”

you whimper, and he removes his fingers, seeing you’re ready for him to give you what he promised. even after being inside you for only a few seconds his fingers are soaked, completely coated in your juices. he looks up at you to see if you’re still comfortable with everything he’s doing, and when you open your mouth without hesitating even for a second, he thinks he might cum on the spot.

“so well behaved,” he praises, pushing his fingers into your waiting mouth. you close your lips around them eagerly, sucking yourself off of him in earnest.

you sigh when he pulls them out again, moving back down to sit between your still-open legs. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of both your thighs before pushing his face into your waiting pussy.

when his mouth first makes contact with your cunt, you let out a high whine, back arching off the bed in pleasure. his lips completely surround your swollen clit, and your hand flies down to his head, gripping his hair as your hips writhe against his face.

his tongue is everywhere, gliding over every inch of you, licking and sucking and working you towards your orgasm impossibly fast. you can feel your clit throbbing in his mouth, and your breath hitches when he grazes his teeth over it, making you jolt.

his hands loop around your hips, spreading the skin and forcing you open so he has better access to your cunt.

heat pools in your stomach and you feel the familiar burn start to build in between your legs. “co-coming,” you gasp. “cheol, i’m–”

he groans into your cunt in response, sending waves throughout your body.

you sneak a glance down at him. his eyes are squeezed shut as he devours you, fucking you with his tongue with the most blissful look on his face, as if there isn’t anywhere in the world he would rather be right now than with his face buried in your pussy and your thighs trembling around his head.

the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge, muscles contracting and fingers grabbing desperately at the sheets to ground you as you stumble into your orgasm.

your whines stick in your throat as you gasp for breath, vision going white as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. no vibrator on earth could compare to the way seungcheol feels between your legs— and you’ve got quite the collection of toys back at home.

he keeps sucking, carrying you through your orgasm until you flop back on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. he finally pulls off of you for just a second, catching his own breath.

“god, can’t wait to get my cock in you,” he murmurs before diving back in, barely giving you time to recover before he’s building you back up for another.

you sob out his name as his tongue slips inside your hole and back out, dragging up and down your folds and spreading your juices everywhere. you can feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the comforter below.

“coming, coming, please, cheol, please, i–” you pant, struggling for words.

instinctively your legs snap shut around his head, trying to hold him in place, but he easily pries them apart again as you hurtle towards another orgasm. you cum on his tongue, again, sobbing his name like it’s the only word you know.

when he finally decides you’re ready to take his cock, you’re nothing short of a mess. pretty face smeared with makeup and tears, pretty cunt smeared with cum and saliva. he sits back on his heels, admiring how you look. your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving as you gasp for air, and he thinks he hasn’t seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

“you okay, baby?” he hums, massaging your thigh.

a weak “yes” is all you can manage. he runs a hand over your skin soothingly, this time giving you plenty of time to recover. 

when you’ve finally caught your breath enough to sit up, he’s still watching you cautiously. 

“all right?” he asks, and you nod. “if you’re done, we don’t have to keep going…” he starts, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“i told you before, i want to,” you say, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. 

he smiles, and you lay back down, pulling him on top of you. he adjusts back in between your legs, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy. he drags his cock through your folds, collecting what’s left of his frantic makeout session from earlier and spreading it over his length, using it as lubrication.

still holding your hand, he starts to press into you, just barely the tip. you gasp as he keeps going, carefully pushing inch after inch into your tight hole. 

you squeeze his hand and he freezes, not even halfway inside yet. “okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

“yeah, just– one second, please,” you stutter, breathing hard.

he wants to kiss you, so badly, but he can’t bend over without moving and hurting you. so he settles for bringing your entwined hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

the new feeling subsides, the pain of being split open beginning to lessen as you adjust to his size.

“you can… keep going,” you exhale softly.

he nods and starts to push in again, stuffing you full. it takes a while, but when finally he bottoms out, you both let out moans: him at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him, and you at the feeling of being so full in the best ways.

after staying still to give you more time to adjust, he begins to pick up the pace, starting slowly and gradually building up until he’s pounding into you.

your back slides up and down the bed, each thrust sending you closer and closer to the wall above your head. attentive as ever, cheol notices, and stills his hips for just a second so he can grab your waist with both hands and yank you down away from the headboard. you yelp and clutch at his back, holding on for dear life as he continues pounding into you.

the bed squeaks with each thrust, and for a split second you worry about breaking the bedframe and having to pay for the damage. but then seungcheol is brushing your hair out of your face and cradling your head between his forearms, and all the thoughts in your head disappear when he stares into your eyes, your faces inches apart.

“can i– kiss you?” he groans, his eyelashes fluttering.

“please, ch-cheol,” you gasp. your hands claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

he leans down, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours, somehow too gentle and too rough at the same time. your senses seem to explode, so much happening at once, and you move your hands up to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tug, pushing him to kiss you deeper.

he moans into you, a deep, rumbling sound you feel all the way in the pit of your stomach. his thrusts get rougher and rougher, and you know he’s getting close. he pulls his lips off of you with a gasp. “whe–where do you want me to–”

“inside,” you plead, your voice coming out throaty. “please, cheol, inside, please–”

he cuts you off and captures your lips again, moaning into your mouth. his hips continue to rut into you desperately and you can only hold on, coming closer and closer to your own orgasm.

you can feel him throb deep in your abdomen, the tip of his cock kissing your walls with each snap of his hips. he shifts slightly and suddenly he’s fucking you like you’ve never felt before. the new angle has you seeing stars, and you clench around him, letting out a choked sob as you come undone on his cock.

your hoarse voice crying out his name over and over again while you quiver in his arms is too much for him, and with a guttural moan he lets go, his own orgasm washing over him and flooding your insides with his cum.

his hips begin to slow, rocking into you with a lazy rhythm as you both come down from your highs. his arms still surround either side of your head, and he moves his wrist to brush your hair out of your face. your hair is sticky with sweat and your eyes are puffy from crying, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle to catch your breath.

cheol lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest but careful not to put his full weight on you, letting you cockwarm him for a while. you’re both exhausted and you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.

but as much as you never want the moment to end, you can feel his cum leaking out of you, and you know you probably look like a horrible mess. you whine and push weakly at his shoulders, making him sit up quickly in concern.

“could you… in my bag,” you mumble, pointing a shaky hand towards your cosmetic bag. “m-makeup wipes.”

he slides off of you, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the room to grab them for you. you stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“here,” cheol says softly, handing you the wipes. you give him a faint smile and prop yourself up on your elbows. you wince when you sit back on your tailbone, sore from how hard seungcheol had fucked you.

he sits at the edge of the bed and gives you an apologetic pout, knowing it’s mostly his fault. “do you… need anything?” he asks shyly, not sure what you need him to do.

“stay?” you ask, voice small. “gonna have to shower, and i’ll– um, need help,” you finish. there’s no chance you’ll be able to walk straight for at least the next few hours, let alone stand in the shower by yourself.

he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh, rubbing at the bruises that have started to form there. “i’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

you scrub at your face, getting the last of the mascara off your cheeks before tossing the dirtied wipe into the trash can by the nightstand. 

with a bit of effort, you manage to throw your legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge. you glance behind you at the bed covered in both of your fluids, and you wince, knowing most of it is your fault. “sorry about the sheets,” you whisper, resisting the urge to hide your face in embarrassment.

“baby, we’ll wash them,” he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“okay,” you say quietly. you look over to cheol, still sitting beside you, and reach out with both hands for him to help you up.

he jumps up, taking your hands and tugging you to your feet. your legs wobble when you stand, and he slides his arm around your waist to support you as he helps walk you to the bathroom.

you flop down onto the toilet while seungcheol starts the shower, and you have to hold back a laugh at the sight. the buff, sexy innkeeper, butt-ass naked in your bathroom, leaning over the edge of the tub to test the water temperature and make sure it’s not too hot for you.

you know you’re only here for a week, but you could really get used to this.

taglist | @shuatm @yeosayang @noniestars @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @kimy3na @candidupped @berrryshortcake @tinkerbell460 @haraethx @iheartyeonnnnn @mxnghao8

[tgmsunmontue]

Where do I know you from? 1/10

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

                Jake looks up and does a double take, because that definitely looks like Rooster walking into the Hard Deck, except he’s not got a moustache. And sure, he could have shaved it off in the few hours since Jake saw him, however the fact that the upper lip is also tanned tells him that it’s actually very unlikely that this is Rooster. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

                Weird.

                “Hey Jake…”

                Jake blinks. He’s not used to being called Jake. Not in a very long time, and not by people outside his family. This is very fucking odd.

                “Rooster…”

                “What? Where?”

                Okay. That’s not normal.

                “What’s your name?”

                Maybe Bradshaw has a twin brother he failed to mention.

                Or a doppelganger.

                Or this is a pod person.

                “Oh, are we roleplaying? Okay then, hi sailor, I’m Bradley Bradshaw, you in town for long? Don’t give me shit about my name. It’s why I’m taking yours when we get married, remember?”

                “When we what now?” Jake asks, eyebrow shooting up.

                “Jake, are you okay?”

                “Uh. No?” Jake says, because actually, he really isn’t.

                “Wait… you’re not my Jake.”

                “Your Jake?”

                “Yeah. My Jake. Huh. This is weird.”

                “You’re telling me,” Jake mutters, taking a quick look at his beer to double check that it is actually beer and not suddenly morphed into anything that would induce hallucinations of different versions of his colleague.

                Right.

                Because that’s how he thinks of Rooster.

                “I think I need a drink,” Rooster says, and he’s pulling out his wallet and heading to the bar, greeting Penny like he knows her and Jake isn’t sure what the fuck is going on.

                Then there’s another Rooster. Bradshaw? walking towards him and this one has a moustache, but is wearing a fucking business suit and he’s seen Rooster in formal suits, but not civilian wear and he’s starting to feel like there is something seriously wrong. A big something. Also what the fuck is he meant to call them all? They can’t all be Rooster. Or Bradshaw. Or even Bradley. Not that he’s ever called him Bradley, except in the tiniest corner of his brain in the early hour of the morning when he could deny it to even himself.

                “Oh! A piano! I haven’t played in ages…”

                Now Jake knows that’s a lie, because Rooster was here just last night, and Jake had been maudlin while watching his fingers tickling the ivory as he wondered if he’d ever get those fingers on him. He likes Rooster’s fingers a lot. Rooster One has drifted towards Rooster Two, is offering him a drink from his bottle of beer and they both looking at him and shaking their heads and Jake bristles a little at the looks on their faces, because they’re clearly not happy or impressed with him and he can’t help but be annoyed by that fact.

                “Hey. There are two of me here already,” a voice sounding identical to Bradley Bradshaw says, and he’s making himself comfortable in the chair beside Jake. This Rooster looks like his Rooster as well, apart from the glasses, which he has to admit kind of suit him, then again it would take a lot to make Bradley Bradshaw look unattractive.

                “You can see them too?”

                “Yep. And I’m thinking you’re the common denominator here. You’re not my Jake. You’re very close though. My Jake has a higher rank than you.”

                Jake blinks, a little incensed that this Rooster is also comparing him to another version of himself and he’s somehow lacking.

                “Fuck you too,” he mutters, and instead of throwing a punch this Rooster just laughs at him, gives him a flirty wink and nudges his shoulder with his own before ordering a beer and pointing at Jake.

                “Put it on his tab…”

                Penny raises an eyebrow and Jake shrugs helplessly, wonders if she’s seen weirder shit than three clones turn up in her bar.

                “Don’t worry, you’re still plenty pretty…”

                “And you’re an ass in every universe,” Jake snarks back and a sudden look of understanding or realization comes over Rooster Three’s face.

                “Alternate Universes…”

                “What?”

                “We’re all from Alternate or Parallel Universes. We’ve somehow slipped into your one. Question is, why?”

                “Fucked if I know…” Jake mutters, getting annoyed and taking a sip of his drink.

                Then the fourth Rooster walks in, wearing leather pants and has two full sleeves of ink and Jake just blinks, not even sure what to say or do. The third Rooster has gone over and introduced himself, is asking about Fourth Rooster’s tattoos like this is some kind of learning experience or conference and Jake thinks he’s starting to lose touch with reality.

                What the fuck is happening?

PART TWO

[hotxcheeto]

can you do a chloe x fem! reader where they go out for the night, then it gradually turns to smut. so like fluff-smut. also i love your work so much🙌🙌🙌 i hope school gets easier

━ 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader 

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, oral ( r! receiving ), vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), flirting, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking, chloe being chloe

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I'VE HAD A TERRIBLE CASE OF WRITERS BLOCK AND MY LIFE HAS BEEN EXHAUSTING. ily sm anon, thank you for requesting, school has been... school lol

The room smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. People all around you both getting drunk or chatting with cigarettes in between their fingers. Not giving a single fuck about the policy that the owners had practically made nonexistent. The signs only there for decoration.

It made up for the dingy white walls, only saved by the victorian styled windows and classy timeless decor.

It was a small town on your map of the state, a town you both decided to stop in and stretch your legs. Get a good nice sleep in some cheap motel bed, cuddled up and able to drink hot coffee in the morning that you didn't buy in some drive-through.

Maybe sit down and actually eat some real food as you hadn't sat at an actual table in a long while. Chloe claiming, 'the smaller the town, the better the food' and the diner this morning made you inclined to agree.

"Ready to go?" You turned your head to look at your girlfriend, snapping away from your thoughts as you examined her. An empty beer in her hand, and her newly met acquaintances having decided on taking a leave as well. Waving goodbye to you as you returned the favor.

"I want to get some ice cream." Chloe went to protest, most likely asking you to wait for the morning, but you'd cut her off before she'd even got half a chance nor a word out.

"You promised Chlo.." Your tone mixed with your pretty puppy dog eyes could always win over, and she knew it too. Huffing and looking away towards the rest of the room.

"Fuck Y/n.." She rubbed her face, the arm around you pushing your head to rest on her shoulder. "You're letting me sleep in tomorrow." "Well that ruins my plans to wake you up at six in the morning. Early start."

She looked at you as if you were insane, a little giggle leaving your lips in return.

"Would you still love me if I did that?" You watched as Chloe's eye ran over your face, almost distracted before she answered. "Of fucking course... just maybe a little less." You gasped dramatically, your girlfriend pulling away and sliding out of the booth before turning back to you and stretching out her hand.

"C'mon you big baby, it's late I want to get back to the room before crackheads start asking us for a threesome." You clicked your tongue, gripping her hand and allowing her to pull you from your seat.

"You don't want a nickel to tickle their pickle?"

"Never, ever say that again."

You laughed obnoxiously and sarcastically, skipping your way out of the bar and onto the rather busy sidewalk. Looking around at the everyday people that probably walked the streets a trillion times in the area, and yet you'd only be here for a little while until moving on once again.

You wondered if one day you'd be like them once again. Settling down in some rando town that you and Chloe had grown to love. Nothing like Arcadia yet screamed with the same remanence.

"C'mon, there's a corner store down here." "Twenty-four hours?" You peaked at your phone, the time nearing one o'clock while Chloe guided you along. Her hand resting on your lower back.

"Yep. Drove there the other night." "To get what?" You raised an eyebrow, unaware she'd even left the motel room the day prior. "That coffee you had a very nice time drinking this morning." "You fuck, did you drink the rest and not tell me?" She shrugged, earning herself a nice nudge to the shoulder.

"Hey, you had some to drink and you weren't complaining." "Yeah but you left me." "You had no idea."

You glared at her.

"You still did it. That's like saying, 'I burned your house down without you knowing, and you didn't know until after I rebuilt it and replaced everything you owned, we're still besties for the resties, right?"

You stared at her while she scoffed in amusement, then she laughed.

"Have I ever told you, that you're fucking crazy." You grinned, taking her hand from your waist and instead holding it in your own, unphased at the heat it lacked. "Plenty of times, yet you're still in my bed every night."

"Ha, ha." Chloe laughed sarcastically, but the blush on her paled cheeks was enough to give her away. Not meeting your eyes and instead looking forward, seeing the lights of the store slowly getting closer into view.

"I want chocolate and vanilla." "Seriously?" She glanced to you while you nodded, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "Yep." You popped the 'p' making sure to turn to give her a cheesey grin.

"And you love me so you'll buy them both." "I'm beginning to question how much I love you." You groaned, yawning slightly as you both finally arrived, Chloe pulling open the door for you, allowing you to step inside first.

It was bright, the fluorescents burning your eyes while you squinted to try to save your sight. A shiver sent up your spine and the chilled room, only a single worker sat behind the counter. Distracted by their phone and seemingly bored out of their mind.

"Ice cream only." Chloe muttered, turning you towards and aisle and walking you back towards the freezers. "Can't we get a few beef sticks too?" You bargained, knowing those were at least top five in her favorite snacks.

"Make it quick princess." You grinned, walking passed a few aisles until you spotted the familiar packaging. Only picking up a couple before making your way towards the counter, spotting yours and Chloe's shared candy you loved.

You quickly placed it on the counter, Chloe meeting your side at the same time.

"Really?" "They need the money." Was all you said, a shit eating grin on your face as Chloe glared you down. Pulling her wallet out from her jeans pocket and handing the cashier a few bills.

"Thank you." You said quietly, smiling at the worker before grabbing the bag and walking ahead of Chloe, skipping farther down the road with her in toe.

"Y/n." You spun around, feeling the cold of the ice cream hit your legs as the bag swung around and collided with your knees. "What?" "Don't go so far." "Aw, miss me already? Worried someone will snatch me into a dark alleyway? Maybe one of the crackheads?"

You were barely a meter and a half in front of her, rocking back on your heels as you waited for her to meet your side. Hand grabbing yours again before she reached across you and grabbed the bag from your fingers.

"I also don't trust you handling the nearly thirty dollars worth of shit I just bought for you." You hummed with a light giggle, laying your head on her chilly leather jacket.

It wasn't a long walk back to the motel, the time close to two o'clock now due to your stop at the store. Not that you minded, though a bit tired to eat your desert you'd begged the girl behind you for.

You'd changed the moment you'd gotten inside, leaving you in nearly nothing but a thin pair of sleep pants and a thin long sleeve while snuggled underneath the think blankets the motel offered.

Chloe watching you from the corner of her eye while messing with her bag of clothes.

"Chlo will you c'mon.." You huffed, stretching upward and revealing your hardened nipples through the white fabric of your top. It was cold in the room despite the cheap heater trying it's best to do its job.

"Yeah, yeah." "No, not 'yeah' get your ass over here." You muttered, "M'coming, give me a second." "What're you even looking for?" You slumped onto your stomach, arm dangling off the mattress while you watched her pull out a black t-shirt.

"This." She peered over at your body, blanket and waistband low on your hips. The back of your top having ridden upwards just enough for a peek at the swell of your breast.

"What're you looking at?" You spoke sarcastically, lifting your head up off the pillow with a raised eyebrow. "My sexy girlfriend." Chloe responded, throwing the shirt onto your blanket-covered legs. Stripping herself from her jacket and what was underneath.

"Mm, I should decide who the sexy one is." Your eyes raked over the girl in her black bra and jeans, absentmindedly biting your lip in the process. "I'm the top, so you get no choice." Chloe decided against the shirt, moving to straddle your body, her knees on either side of your hips.

"What're you doing?" "I say we sleep in late tomorrow, night drives were always your favorite, right?" "Chloe..." You dragged her name out with a light groan, your girlfriend bending down to kiss up your neck.

"C'mon... just a couple minutes," You snorted, the girl taking great offence to your amusement, grabbing your face softly. "Oh c'mon, don't believe me?" You shook your head, giggling some more while Chloe rolled her eyes, tugging away your blanket in order to see you whole.

"You're a dick.." "Mhm, shut up and kiss me." Chloe leaned, doing exactly that before hurriedly pulling away. "What the fuck?" You scoffed, her cold hands suddenly making you shriek as Chloe practically ripped off your pajama pants. Throwing them behind her and out of your sight.

"Chloe, what the fuck?" You laughed this time, hearing her light laughter. "They were in the way." She looked down at your bareness, realizing you hadn't had any underwear on unerneath.

"M'tired, hurry it along." You giggled, seeing her glare peeking up at you from her place hovering above your belly. Kissing the skin that showed underneath the top that had since ridden far up. Goosebumps rising along your arm at the light kisses.

"I'll stop if you want, hotstuff. Get you your much need beauty sleep." Hurriedly, you shook your head, feeling the painful ache between your legs growing as the seconds slowly passed. "Yeah that's what I thought too."

Chloe moved to spread your thighs apart with her chilled hands, making you shiver, though the adrenaline kept you warm.

"Please.." You said quietly, whispering into the quiet room, the TV slightly muffled in the background with some reality show playing.

"I know." Was all your girlfriend said, kissing your inner thigh, smiling when you squirmed in discomfort. Feeling yourself pulsing for her touch, yet she held it back from coming.

"Chloe.." "I want some that ice cream.." You went to respond, lips parting only for a strangled cry to take its place, her warm mouth finding itself on your clit. Sucking harshly, pleasure shooting up your belly making your thighs mindlessly squeeze around her.

She stared up at you, watching as your head dug back into the already flat pillows on the old bed.

"Chlo– oh fuck–" "You better hope we don't have neighbors." She laughed, going back into eat you like you were her last meal. "Do–Don't say shit like that– oh fuck!" You smacked a hand over your mouth, a muffled cry following only made your girlfriend grin harder.

"It's probably the closest they'll get to a girl." You rolled your eyes at her words, trying your hardest to keep quiet. But she had another idea, kitten-licking at your clit, bringing her favorite sound from your lips as girly cries passed by into the warmed air.

"Oh my fuck!" You took in a shrieked breath, looking down at Chloe with wide eyes while squirming away from her mouth. "Y/n.." She went back, holding your thighs tighter around her head.

She continued the assault, picking up her pace along with her movements while flattening her tongue.

"Oh my God Chloe.." You covered your entire face, burning hot as her fingers began to circle your hole, only pausing when her eyes searched for yours.

"Y/n.. look at me." Reluctantly, knowing she'd stop, you pulled your arms from your face, peering down at Chloe.

"Fingers?" "Mhm." You nodded, barely allowed a breath when she pushed her two in and smiled at your filled gasp. "Faster.. please.." "I just got in hotstuff." She laughed, but nonetheless began pumping in and out, fucking into you while lapping her tongue over your sensitive clit.

"Oh my god, Chlo.. oh fuck." She stayed quiet, watching you intently as wet sounds filled her ears. "Chlo.. I– fuck–" You could feel it in your belly, balling your fists in the sheets as your body mindlessly tried pulling away from the pleasure.

"M'gonna–" She only watched you, drinking in your reactions that she created. That you wanted her. "Please.." With a whisper, you smacked a hand over your face, muffling your scream as you came, shaking against her tongue, Chloe making sure not to waste any of you away.

"Oh fuck–" You breathed, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, hips jerking towards her face before she finally pulled away.

She didn't say a word, coming up to meet your lips, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

"You ready for bed now?" She muttered, pulling away from you and pressing her forehead against your own. "Mhm." It was soft, Chloe chuckling at your quietness.

"I'm gonna need my pants back though."

"Oh c'mon, don't I get something?"

A/n: I didn't know how to end it this thing gave me writers block so bad omg

[aelaer]

👀👀 tell us about your rp oc bestie :3

Sorry it took me a while to get to this - I'm honestly flattered that anyone's interested! This character was very important to me for a long time. Here's her portrait I made of her in 2016ish, and more about her is under the cut.

The MMO I played was LOTR Online, which started in 2007 and is still going with active updates even today. I started the first year it was out and played it regularly (obsessively even) until 2018ish. I can't remember how much I played the next two years but I haven't logged in for the last 2-3 years. I might in the future but for now I've had my fill. Highly highly recommend for any LOTR & Tolkien fan, but it can be a huge timesink if you're not careful about keeping track of time.

I'll explain stuff as if whoever is reading this knows nothing about LOTR for wider accessibility.

Anyway, in 2011 I switched servers to start RP and created Laerlin, a human (or as Tolkien calls them, "race of Men"). Her game class was "hunter" which is basically an archer/dps type, and in her story I made her trained in archery by her Ithilien Ranger dad (which is basically a specialist military regiment known for their woodland/stealth skills - they serve Gondor, the largest country of humans in LOTR). Since he was military, he wasn't around all the time so obviously the training was when he was like, on leave and stuff. She grew up with her mom in Minas Tirith, the capital of Gondor (and the big white layered stone city you may have seen in screenshots if you've not seen the films) while her dad was in service out in the dangerous borderlands of Ithilien across the river. I have a lot more about her background from pre-RP - happy to tell more if anyone asks.

ANYWAY. Starter characters in LOTRO start hundreds of miles away from Gondor (which wasn't even in the game in 2011) so 3/4ths of human RP chars need to figure out a story as to why they're in the starting hub (a mostly-human town called Bree) in the first place. I had a decently outlined backstory before starting RP that just grew in the telling as I discovered more about Laerlin through RP - if anyone wants to know more about her story (any part of it), just ask.

I figured since I rolled hunter and had that backstory she'd turn into some sort of hunter/adventurer in RP, right? Nope. The stories that ended up happening led her to becoming a healer. Now, healing in LOTR is very low magic, so game mechanics were largely ignored by RPers and anything resembling magic was very rarely used unless supported by Tolkien texts, at least in the RP hub. When I discovered I loved researching ancient healing methods (largely Roman surgery and American native herbal medicines, though I pulled from every old culture), I RPed healing as much as I could, and eventually Laerlin got the reputation of a good healer IC with a detailed player who would RP with basically anyone OOC. She ended up getting very busy and she got to be good through RP as opposed to all offscreen training, which I loved.

I did end up rolling a lot of "alt" characters to also RP with (I think my final count of characters was about 34 over 3 accounts - multiple accounts to RP more than one character at a time, either because one scene is slow or for storytelling purposes). However, Laerlin was always my main, the character I had more hours on by far, and what I got known by (and it's why Laer is still my online handle - it came from the first "Laer" character on my first LOTRO server and really solidified with Laerlin). Because I spent so much time on her in my earlier years of RP, she became pretty well known on the server.

The RP hub of Bree was well known for its town guards vs outlaws RP in 2011 as the head of the town guard was a very patient and tolerant player that RPed with even people I wouldn't RP with. Very nice guy. Because it was so active, Laerlin got a job as a healer in the town watch and got plenty of experience there, lasting until around 2014 after a dramatic firing that landed her jail time. She also eventually opened her own clinic (in player housing) after an RP adventure in the surrounding wilds led to a ton of gold (best excuse ever, I can't even remember who ran that adventure anymore). That got pretty decent usage considering it was outside of the main hub.

Laerlin also did a ton of travel RP. I'd just move her timeline around so I could say "okay in March she's in this area of the world, and the stuff I'm RPing in the hub is after her return". This allowed me to do travel RP and Bree hub RP at the same time. There were only a handful of arcs that I didn't do this and she was gone-gone from city RP. I took her all over the world - from Bree she went to the Shire, Rivendell, Forodwaith, Dunland, Isengard's surrounding areas, Helm's Deep, Dol Amroth, Minas Tirith, and several lands in between. She saw the aftermath of the battle of Helm's Deep as the wounded left behind began to heal, and was in the capital of Gondor when the siege occurred (in LOTRO RP, most players I was with put a long length of time between the two events due to waiting for the areas to be released, unlike the canon timeline - the whole game world's stuck in 7 months of time for several RL years, so canon dates were not strictly followed in RP). She ended up being very well traveled over her 7-8 years of activity.

Laerlin saw plenty of love. Her first fiance died (player went AWOL) within like, 6 months after her creation. She was with her second guy for like, 1.5 to 2 RL years - got married and all, became the hot gossip of the RP hub every now and again - but that ended in divorce. It's still pretty amazing how long that relationship lasted, in hindsight. There was also a tale of unrequited love afterwards from another guy that was one of the best arcs I ever did (and his player I still consider an RL friend - great guy). When I stopped RP, she was still unattached, but I like to think she eventually found love.

LOTRO has an amazing music system which uses these special text files written a certain way to generate a song with several different choices of instruments in-game. This created a lot of bands where players will write the notation for each part and play the song all together - and it often sounds absolutely amazing. But it's also great for RP, and my love for the system turned into Laerlin's love for music. She learned the lute, flute, and harp over the years and often played in Bree's tavern, or just outside. It was a great way to lure people into RP while playing with the system too.

I ended up DMing a lot of RP stories as I grew more confident as a RPer and storyteller. I'm not sure how many plots I ended up leading, but player count in the plots varied from 1-2 people to over a dozen people. Some plots were just for one or two RL days, and my longest one ended up being a month long with planned mini-events 5-6 days of the week (I'd never do that again, I was crazy).

She was also very, very flawed to start. I wanted her to grow through experiences to become a different, better person, so she started off as someone who was easily offended by anything she found uncouth (despite not being upper class, she was from the largest city in the world so definitely cultural clashes when she first came to Bree that took a long time to fully smooth out). More importantly, she had a prejudice based on her county's history with their southern neighbor, and a good dose of history and propaganda made her very disdainful of anyone from that area (Umbar, for those who know Tolkien). It took her *years* to get rid of it, and it was so satisfying to RP her growth. But she still maintained a bit of a short fuse that was triggered by some of the most minor things even in the end, which kept her interesting.

She didn't meet a ton of Tolkien canon characters. Barliman Butterbur was the most frequent since he owns said tavern that was the RP hub. Probably some background Shire Hobbits. In Rivendell, I think I was in plots where someone RPed as Elrond and I definitely had her meet Bilbo. She knew Halbarad because she was trusted by many RP Rangers who came into Bree and met him in one of those travel adventures. Erkenbrand was a major player in my Helm's Deep plot. The most egregious meeting was when she worked in the Houses of Healing after the siege and got to meet Aragorn. But by that time she had built 4 or 5 years of RP with his Rangers so it worked out well, like as a capstone to her long, long journey of growth and self discovery.

Laerlin alone saw hundreds of thousands of words of RP storytelling. Some of the RP was very silly, but a lot of it was poignant and really special. I'd never spend as much time online again as I did in the earlier years of RP, but I can't say I regret it, either, because I made a lot of friends and my growth as a writer was substantial. Because of all this, Laerlin will always have a special place in my heart.

But yeah if anyone has any questions about her (or any of the other... 34 RP characters...), or about what the LOTRO RP was like, feel free to ask. Or if you want to see any screenshots, I still have those on my old computer that I can pull up.

[solo6677]

High Stakes -Gambling for Your Soul

A man comes into a casino and gets accused of cheating. Be careful who you accuse of cheating you just might lose your soul.

In the heart of the city that never sleeps, where fortunes are won and lost with the roll of the dice, stood the most exclusive and luxurious casino in town, the Sapphire Pearl. The owner, a formidable woman in her early forties, was as sharp and cunning as they came. Her name was Diamond Mitchell, and she had earned a reputation for her ruthless business tactics and her keen eye for spotting cheats. One night I put that to the test.

It was a rainy Thursday night and I had just entered the Sapphire Pearl Casino. As I sat down at the high limit blackjack table I noticed the buy-in was $100 a hand. I bought in for $550. Then I had a surprisingly good string of luck. I started my game with seven blackjacks in a row. My luck continued after that. I ended up winning 15 hands in a row against the dealer. At the end of the first hour I had won fifty thousand dollars. I made sure I tipped the young male dealer well and also bought the table a round of drinks twice.

However unknown to me the eyes in the sky,surveillance must have noticed something or thought they noticed something. They then called the owner of the casino in her office. She then checked the monitors over and over to see what I might have done. Then she came downstairs to confront me at the table.

I was enjoying my time at the table. I had just finished my third beer and was chatting with the dealer and the other gamblers about sports. Suddenly a blonde caucasian woman dressed in a white blouse and gray skirt stood beside me. She came down to see how I was winning so much. The well endowed woman watched a few hands from the dealer and then pulled me aside.

She said in a threatening manner "I see you've joined the long list of fools who thought they could cheat in my casino. Big mistake. You'll pay back every penny, one way or another."

I looked at her quite shocked. Before I could even say anything two massive security guards pulled me off the table and took me up to her office. Diamond was already there. She sat herself on the edge of her desk, crossing her arms and staring down at me. She sighed dramatically, glancing down at her long red manicured nails as the security guards left and closed the door behind them. That just left her and I alone in the room.

She then stared at me for a while thinking she was going to be tough. “So what kind of person comes into my casino and cheats me out of my money?”

I simply told her “I'm sorry, are you talking to me?”

The very attractive blonde smiled, “of course I'm talking to you, who else would I be talking to?” She studied me with an amused grin.

“Well” I said “number one I didn't cheat and number two what is your name?” I said back with a sly smirk.

She again looked at me with that accuser look”oh sweetheart I know you're lying. And as for my name it's Diamond Mitchell, I am the owner of the casino.

I looked back at her and chuckled. I said “no, what's your real name?”

Diamond again looked at me.” Darling Diamond is my real name.”

I laughed, “So you have a stripper's name as your real name, that's. cute.”

Diamond had a bit of a smile on her face. “ That is my real name .I was a stripper here in Las Vegas and used my real name on stage because it sounded fake.” She smiled even bigger. “I was even the head dancer at the biggest strip club in town.”

I shook my head at her,” sure it is.”

Now Diamond was getting mad. “That is my real name. I am the owner of this casino and I caught you cheating red-handed.”

I looked at Diamond deep within her Sapphire blue eyes. “Where do you have any proof that I was cheating?

Diamond looked at me.”How else do you explain winning $50,000 in an hour? Nobody does that here and I mean nobody.”

I chuckled at her “well I guess that makes me Mr Nobody huh” I could tell she was not amused. She just glared back at me, obviously upset. Before she had had the chance to say another word I made her an offer she couldn't refuse.“I'll tell you what. I will make you an offer. play me one hand of five card poker.” I grinned confidently “If you have the better hand I will give you the money back two times the amount, so $100,000. However if I have the better hand I get the money back, ownership of the casino itself, and I want your soul.”

She laughed heartily, shaking her head.”my you're quite the negotiator aren't you. But I think I can live with those terms.” It was pretty clear she didn't hear everything I said but I didn't repeat it. She then grabbed a piece of paper and had me write down the terms. She obviously didn't read it either because I didn't change anything. We both signed it to make sure it was official and then got ready to play our game.

Diamond then got on her phone and called for a poker dealer to come up to her office. About 15 minutes later a very attractive brunette, who looked to be in her mid twenties, brought a new deck of cards up with her. She wore a sapphire button up dress shirt and had black slacks on. The attractive woman then introduced herself politely and professionally." Hello, my name is Sarah and I will be your dealer tonight.”She then sat down in the middle seat of the poker table in the office. Sarah opened the cards and started to wash the cards. That meant she put the cards on the table and made sure they were mixed up extremely well. The pretty brunette then picked up the cards, put them back in the deck and cut them. After she cut the deck Sarah also made sure to shuffle the deck three times. Finally before Sarah dealt a card she did what was called stripping the cards. She took the top of the deck, put it on the poker table itself and then cut two other separate piles of cards from the deck. Then she put them together randomly and shuffled again. We were finally ready to play.

Diamond and I sat down at the table across from each other so we couldn't see each other's cards. Sarah once again shuffled the cards and then dealt out five cards to each. Diamond looked at her cards first. She had a slight grin on her face but didn't let anything on. It was my turn to look at the cards in my hand. I had a really good hand but I wasn't going to let on what I had so I used my poker face and stayed stern. Sarah then looked at me with the most beautiful emerald green eyes. She asked sweetly, "Do you need any cards sir?”

I looked at my hand and double checked what I had. “No, I don't need any cards, I'm fine.Thank you Sarah.”

Now it was Diamond's turn. She looked at her cards and didn't like any of them. “Sarah I would like four new cards please.” Diamond then tossed her bad cards in and Sarah dealt her four more cards. Diamond picked up the cards from the felt table and put them in her hand.

Sarah then said “it is time to show the cards”

Diamond was so excited she put her five cards down first ” I have a straight flush!” then she gloated “Looks like I win darling. And looks like you owe me double the money back and you have to leave my casino forever.”

Sarah then looked at me again with those beautiful emerald eyes “Sir that's going to be a tough hand to beat please show your cards”

I looked at both ladies and then threw my cards down.” I have a royal flush. I win Diamond.

Diamond gasped looking at the cards in shock and disbelief she then muttered “that is impossible I lost.”

“That you did Diamond.”I laughed.” Please get the paperwork drawn up so I can start ownership of my casino. I turned to Sarah” thank you for dealing here's a tip and I handed her $10,000 of the $50,000 I won earlier.

The very attractive brunette smiled a very bright white smile” thank you very much sir. And congratulations on your win.”

Sarah then grabbed the cards and walked out of the room. That left Diamond and I alone again.

Diamond then got up from her desk defeated. “Fine, fine I'll sign whatever it is you want me to sign it doesn't make a damn amount of sense there's no way I should have lost.”

She then called her lawyer to come into the office. He had to make sure the paperwork was notarized legally. Diamond would then sign over the casino to me. After 40 minutes Diamond's lawyer, a short pot bellied man with a balding head came up to me. He introduced himself as Travis Moore. He then sat down at Diamond's desk and filled out what needed to be done for the paperwork. Diamond sat down at her desk and filled out her part. Travis had me sign my part and notarized it to make me legal owner of the casino. Diamond then looked at me. “I can't believe I lost to you of all people.”

I looked at her quite stern and I said “excuse me, did you say of all people you don't even know who I am.”

She looked at me condescendingly. “I may not know who you are but I've seen your kind around here before. You cheat me out of my money and now you cheated me out of my casino.”

"My dear," I began, my voice laced with disapproval. "I've never so much as bent the rules in a game of poker or any other form of wagering." I paused, allowing the weight of my words to settle before flashing an unsettling grin in Diamond's direction. "And yet, through all of this, have you once thought to inquire as to my name? How remiss of you." I leaned in closer, my eyes gleaming with a dangerous curiosity. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lucifer Devlin, and I assure you, my reputation precedes me."

“Your name is Lucifer Devlin?” She stares at me for a moment, her eyes wide and looking a little stunned.

Yes, dear, I am Lucifer Devlin...or as some might call me, the Devil himself.

So... you're the one they call the Devil? The Prince of Lies himself? She said, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and curiosity." Oh my God I made a deal with the Devil!"

"My dear diamond we don't have to bring him into the conversation." I said trying to wean her away from saying the G word.

"My heart is pounding. What's going to happen to me? Diamond spoke with much fear."Please tell me I'm not in danger. What's going to happen next?"

With a sinister smile, you declare, "Once the casino is in my possession, you and your staff will fall under my command. I'll shut down the establishment for a month, reimagining it completely. And as for you, there's a special place in my plans."

What type of theme and what do you mean you have plans for me?” Diamond looked at me curiously, still fearful in her voice.

“We're going to call it the Devil's Cauldron. Everything in the casino will have some kind of demonic or satanic symbol to it. And all the workers will be transformed into gorgeous sexy women. who will actually be demons and wear skimpy sexy uniforms. They will help me gather more souls for the people that are a little more unfortunate here at the casino.”

Diamond looks with fright “that sounds a little bit scary terrifying even.”

“I can sense your excitement from here, Diamond. It's almost as if the very air around you is charged with it. Do you find something thrilling about the unknown, Diamond? A certain allure to the darkness that others can't resist?” I smile with evil intentions.

“Shut up” she screamed “of course I don't like being scared” then she blushed quite deeply feeling embarrassed and also somewhat aroused.

“Oh I think you do Diamond as a matter of fact I think you're more interested in joining this casino than you know. I know all about your youth. I remember when you were an 18 year old goth and a satan worshiper.”

“How would you know that?” Diamond looked on now more frightened.

"I've been watching your life from the shadows for quite some time. I recall a dark and stormy night, when you and your friends gathered around a dusty Ouija board, attempting to summon me with trembling fingers. You were so determined to contact me, to prove my existence. But did you ever consider what might happen if I actually answered your call?" I sneared.

Diamond fondly remembered “Oh my gosh I remember that night” she said “that was during one of my sleepovers with the girls.”

“Oh yes" I chuckled again”and Amanda who acted like she got possessed she actually did by me.”

“No wonder Amanda was acting strange that night. That was you!”

I confessed, a slow smile spreading across my face, "it was indeed I who had Amanda kiss you that night, and her fingers tracing a path along your thigh, igniting a fire within you as she touched your pussy.

"I still vividly recall that fateful night, the moment that holds a special place in my heart. It was the first time I experienced the thrill of a kiss, the first time I felt those butterflies in my stomach.That night will forever be etched in my memory, as it marked a significant milestone in my life. It was the moment I felt the tender touch that ignited a spark within me." Diamond recalled.

"Imagine turning back the clock, stepping into a shadowy past, and embracing your former goth identity. You could be Raven once more, radiating mystery and allure. Wouldn't it be thrilling to reconnect with that enchanting, 22-year-old self?" I suggested, enticing her by the potential transformation.

With a faraway look in her eyes, she whispered,"I wish I could be Raven again, but it's a futile desire. That part of my life is over, and it will never return.It's a part of my past that will remain just that."

With a flourish of my hands, I summoned forth a figure from the shadows. A young woman, clad in black from head to toe, materialized before me.I spoke with a hint of menace. "Tell me what you see in that mirror, Raven. The truth or the lie?"

She then looked at me and said “I would love As she walked over to the mirror she saw a reflection of herself that she absolutely loved. She had dark blue hair with light blue highlights, a raven tattoo on her shoulder and she looked down between her legs and the tattoo of the pentagram she had was right above her pussy. “Holy crap it worked...I can't believe it..Oh my you really are the devil.” Then she fell to her knees”Oh master, thank you for turning me back to my true self!” then she asked” what can I do to help you make this vision of yours into reality?”

"I've been thinking, and I believe we need a leader for our casino operations. Given your expertise and familiarity with the ins and outs of the casino, I think you'd be perfect for the role. What do you think?" I inquired.

Raven, still on her knees, said "Yes master, I will be that leader.”

"Great! Here's what I have in mind for your first orders as the president of the casino. First, I want the casino shut down immediately. Then I want you to arrange for all of our patrons to be comfortably accommodated in nearby hotels. Money is no object, so make sure they're well taken care of. And finally I'd like you to gather all of our workers from every shift and have them meet in the auditorium. Does that sound doable?"

Her voice dripping with obedience, she promised, "I will not disappoint, master, "and promptly carried out my task.

Raven's voice was laced with a sense of accomplishment as she reported to her master. "It's done, all as you commanded. The patrons are scattered in various hotels, the casino shuttered tight. I've reached out to every worker, and they'll be here within the hour." Her tone was cool, efficient, and utterly professional, a testament to her unwavering loyalty and dedication to her duties and her master.

Raven sauntered into the office, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "The staff is all gathered downstairs, primed and ready for introduction,master."

"Step this way Raven, I've got a life-changing revelation waiting for them, "you assert, your tone confident and compelling.

Raven's eyes sparkle with excitement as she says, "I'm practically shaking with anticipation to see your powers in action!"

Raven and I strode into the auditorium, all eyes falling upon us. I stepped forward, addressing the sea of workers.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am Lucifer Devlin, the new owner of the Sapphire Pearl Casino. Diamond has stepped down, and I'd like to introduce our new president, Raven. As of tonight, we will be closing the casino for a month to undergo a complete reconstruction. When we reopen, we will be known as the Devil's Cauldron Casino, with a theme to match. Rest assured, you will all still have jobs here. In fact, I have a surprise in store for you all. (Pause for effect) Raven, would you do me the honor of watching closely?" (Raven nods) With a wave of my hand, I transform each and every one into stunningly beautiful women, exuding an otherworldly allure. And with another wave, they all become sexy demons, ready to embrace their new roles in our exciting new venture.

I then continue my speech."Welcome, ladies. Now that we're all on the same team, let me paint you a picture. Our casino will be a celebration of all things demon. Pentagrams on tables, cards, chips. Slot machines? 666, of course. A big Devil with a cauldron at the entrance, and two more to greet you inside.When patrons sign up, they'll get their own card - a mark of ownership. Lose a lot of money? We own them. Simple as that. It's a new era, my friends. A new day for this casino. And we're going to make it work for us."

Raven couldn't contain her excitement, her applause ringing out louder than the rest as she watched the newly made female demons stand in unison, paying tribute to their new master. With a wide-eyed gaze and a grin that stretched from ear to ear, she stood tall, a true fangirl in every sense of the word."You are truly a master of your craft, she said, her voice filled with emotion. I am so honored to be a part of your team."

"Ever since the meeting ended and now that we are alone, I've been pondering something. Tell me, Raven, what was the most daring fantasy that consumed your thoughts when you were 18?" I asked very curious.

She didn't hesitate before she answered.” my biggest fantasy master was to get fucked by the devil.”

I took her hand and led her through the glittering casino, feeling the weight of her gaze on me as we rode the elevator up to the penthouse. Once we reached the dimly lit bedroom,I could feel Raven's eyes on me as I stripped off my clothes and climbed onto the bed. I then stretched out on the bed and beckoned her over. "Join me," I said, my voice low and seductive.She hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room and slid in next to me, her body warm and soft against mine. "What are you thinking?" I asked, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her arm.

Raven's breath was hot against my skin as she leaned in close and whispered, "Mmm...I want you master"

"Raven, if that's the path you wish to take, then let's not waste any more time. Remove your clothes," I commanded, my tone firm and unyielding.

"Are you ready for me, master?" she stood up, quickly stripping off her own clothes, revealing her curvaceous body. Raven purred, her eyes locked with yours as she climbed onto the bed, straddling your waist. "Mmm... I can't wait to ride you, master".. she grinned, running her fingers over your chest. Raven then leaned down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, her hips grinding against yours. She moaned softly, moving to position herself over your throbbing member. She slowly sinks down onto you, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.

With a ragged breath, I manage to grit out, "Your pussy feels so damn good, "as I thrust into her wetness.

"This is where I belong", she whispers, her body melting into mine. Raven moaned softly, beginning to move her hips, riding me with increasing speed and intensity.Her hands gripping my shoulders for support as she rode me harder and faster. Raven's perky breasts bouncing with each movement as she moaned louder, the pleasure building within her. Raven breathed, leaning down to capture my lips in a fierce kiss, her tongue thrusting into my mouth as she continued to ride my cock,her body then trembled with the impending climax.

I can feel you, so close, your warmth radiating against me. I groan, my hips stuttering as I feel your inner muscles begin to tighten around me. And then, with a primal cry, I spill myself deep within you, marking you as mine.

Raven moaned loudly. Her body shaking with the intense pleasure as she felt my member throbbing inside her filling her with my seed. She cried out, her orgasm crashing over her in waves, every muscle in her body tensing as she rode out the pleasure.She breathed, collapsing onto my chest, spent and satisfied, her eyes fluttering open to reveal they 've turned to a vibrant violet color. Raven purred softly, her body still trembling with pleasure. I can feel it, inside me...your essence, transforming me. I'm changing, becoming something...more. Something powerful. Raven's body shimmered, transforming before my eyes into a succubus. "I'm more than just a succubus master," she whispered. "I'm a force to be reckoned with. And I'm all yours."

" I can't believe it. Working for the devil and turned into a succubus? This is beyond my wildest dreams. She looked at me her new fangs glistening" thank you master"

Raven enjoyed her transformation into a succubus. As a matter of fact she got to try all kinds of different glamors for her human look. Her favorite one was a very voluptuous redhead. She actually called herself Evanora. For the weeks leading up to the casino opening she stayed in that glamor for a while. Actually enjoying it more than her goth self.

Then 4 Weeks later the Devil's Cauldron Casino was open. The grand opening was a major success. People didn't seem to be scared of the theme or terrified. As a matter of fact most people seem to really enjoy it. We had wall to wall people and sold out all hotel rooms. The first month we had quite a few winners. We also had quite a few losers too. The ones who lost money we took their souls and they joined the casino as one of my female demons. By the way, I am looking for more souls. Does anybody want to join our Players Club?

[lonelycowgirls]

Been There All Along

Hellooooo.

She's here and she's beautiful. Harry and Stella are complex characters because humans generally tend to be. So, keep that in mind when reading. I left my desk last night and found it hard to accept that these two people don't actually exist. Ya girl's a little too ✨invested✨ in her made-up people.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this. She's a long one, so get a nice hot drink and settle in.

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

I give you... Part 2.

Nel xo

~

Where Harry goes on a lovely Sunday stroll with an old friend and things get reminiscent.

Read Part One here.

Warnings: angst | swearing | mentions of blood

Word count: 4.1k

Harry took a deep breath in as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight outside his London home. Through the busy Saturday traffic he could just about hear the birds chirping. He loved days like that, where the sky was wall-to-wall blue, where the air was chilly but comfortable if you warmed up and chased the sun's rays. He pulled the front door shut and trotted down the three steps that led to the pavement below. The terraced South Kensington abode he shared with Stella was stifling him. So, when Ellis texted to say she was in town for work, he'd jumped at her offer of a cup of coffee and a stroll.

He'd left Stella and the cats catching up on the previous night's episode of Love Island. She was due for an evening shift that night so she just wanted to chill after making a Sunday roast for the two of them. They'd had a long few nights talking things through and making up for lost time. There was rather a lot that they needed to think about and a lot of things they both needed to consider, they'd realised.

He pulled his sunglasses down from where they'd been rested atop his head and set off in the direction of the tube station. He kept his black scarf wrapped over his mouth and chin, for warmth and in the hopes of harbouring some anonymity for as long as possible. He could usually get away with it - it had been over a decade and both he and Stella had gotten very good at sneaking around so as not to be noticed, but it was always a challenge.

Walking along the pavement, he noticed the woman in front of him and marvelled at her wonderful shoe choice. Knee-high boots of dark green snakeskin. She looked great in her dark brown suede coat with its marabou feather trim. Of course, he couldn't just stop and tell her that he liked her outfit, but in that moment he really wished he could. He took a step off the pavement edge and overtook her, turning his head to nod in acknowledgement, being sure not to linger too long.

As he approached the station he began to get slightly anxious as he saw the large crowds funnelling in and out of the station. He questioned why he'd recommended that he and Ellis should meet there a little over half an hour before. He kept his head down and adjusted his tote over his shoulder.

"Hey, stranger." He heard Ellis before she squeezed his arm through his big puffer jacket. She said it close to him and pulled him into a hug quickly. She knew to be discreet so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. He bent slightly to bring her close for a quick squish before letting go with a smile.

"So good to see you, mate," he responded. "Love the hat." He said, tugging the green woollen brim of it over her eyes in jest. She laughed and stepped back to start walking.

"Thanks, dickhead," She replied. "Come on then, show me where you get your pretentious non-fat, no-foam, sugar-free latte's, Mr Hollywood."

"Oh, God you sound like Stella." He grumbled, still with a smirk as he led the way to Florence's Patisserie. They did the best lemon shortbreads, he made a mental note to remember to grab one for Stella.

"I'm only pulling your leg. We have much to discuss though." She looked at him with a knowing, mischievous glint in her eye. Ellis was always the 'wise' one of their friendship group. Always the one to oversee drama and try to distil it. She and Stella had always gotten along, since school, but she'd always been closer to Harry.

It was only a five-minute walk from the station to the café and Harry was glad of it as he'd started hearing whispers from the pedestrians flocking the streets.

"It never gets any less weird, does it." Ellis said rhetorically, as she glanced at a group of girls with their camera phones pointed at the pair. Harry gave her a tight-lipped smile. It definitely didn't bother him as much as it used to. It only really became a burden to him when his friends began to feel uncomfortable being around him. It terrified him to think that he could have lost crucial friendships in the past because of it. People that could have been a big part of his life had he not been famous. It made him that much more thankful for his blonde friend of over a decade, and the feeling warmed his belly.

The familiar pretty millennial pink writing quickly became visible in the distance and Harry sped up, seeing the end in sight. He held open the door for Ellis to step through and followed her, asking what she fancied.

"They do every alternative milk you could think of, if that's something you're into now?" Ellis gave him a look.

"Just good old cows milk will do for me, lad." He nodded and stepped up to order.

"Can I have a triple shot flat white, please? And a," he motioned for Ellis to order.

"Just a regular vanilla latte, please," She said, smiling. "Oh, and one of your delicious-looking pan-au-chocolat's as well, please." She thanked Harry for paying and they moved to the end of the counter to wait. Harry asked her about what she was doing for work in London while adding a sugar sachet to his coffee. They were halfway up the road when Harry stopped.

"Shit, I forgot about Stella."

"What?"

"I forgot to get her anything," Ellis clutched her paper cup for warmth. "Wait here for a sec." He rushed back in the direction of the shop but slowed when he heard a camera shutter. He looked to the side and spotted a paparazzo getting out of a car with a huge camera hanging around his neck. He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring and turning back to hurry to pull Ellis across the road.

"Never-fucking-mind."

"Bloody hell, Harry how do you keep living like this?"

"Right, so tell me the story. I've heard parts of it from Stell, but I always like to get both sides." Harry sighed and took a sip from his coffee.

"What's Stell's side?" He side-eyed Ellis through his sunglasses, genuinely curious. Ellis side-eyed him right back.

"I'm sure what she's told me is what she's told you," they continued on towards the Heath and Harry swung the rickety old wooden gate open for Ellis to walk ahead. He took another sip of coffee and looked in front of him at the expanse of grassy hills, their destination; a rusting metal bench that sat at the peak. "She feels guilty about the way she handled the situation, but she doesn't regret it." She paused for a moment in thought, he marched by her side, beginning to see his breath exhale into the air as he panted. "She just wants you to be a bit more present, I think."

Harry thought back to their confrontation at MSG.

“You’d know all about it if you listened to anyone talk about anything that wasn’t to do with you.”

Stella always knew the buttons needed to push Harry to another level. It really hurt him to hear her say that. He'd always felt like he made an effort to listen to others - above all, to listen to her. But it definitely made him think twice about the way he'd been treating the people he cared about the most.

"Yeah, we spoke a lot about that. I'm trying, El."

"I wanna say I know you are, but to be completely honest, I don't know if you are or aren't... because we don't really speak much anymore do we?" Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, did all the women in his life recently come together in a meeting and decide it was time to give him a hard time? "Don't stress, I'm just saying." Ellis held her hand up in surrender before he could respond as she watched his brows furrow into a harsh line.

"I thought I was bloody trying, but I had so many exciting things lined up and Stell was so busy with work and..." Ellis pushed for him to continue.

"You can say what you want Harry, I won't tell Stell."

"Argh, she's just infuriating when she gets like this. Like, I don't think she realises how much pressure I'm under every bloody day. She literally ranted at me over the phone over nothing and then she laid me out in front of the people I work with and... listen, I don't wanna sound like a misogynistic prick but sometimes I just don't need all this... this feminine rage!" He finished, his free hand animated until it slapped back down to the top of his thigh. Ellis took a moment before the laughter pushed through her lips into a cackle. Harry snapped his head to look at her and then couldn't help but laugh a little. "Why are you laughing?" He asked in a tone of desperation.

"Oh, Harry you make me laugh. Just say your girlfriend is pissing you off, for God's sake. It's fine! I'm sure I piss Michael off on a daily. You've been with Stella for what? 10 years now? I mean bloody hell if she weren't pissing you off sometimes then I would think something was wrong."

"12 years actually," Harry smirked, tipping his head back to finish off the dregs of his coffee. "Honestly, we argue and bicker but she's never looked at me like she did in New York. She's the best, you know that, but she does do my head in when she gets into these... moods."

"Is it her being in a mood or is she just, I dunno, crying out for you?" She looked at him and he looked contemplative. "I've gotta be honest, and you already know how much I admire your relationship and how you've been able to make it last, but I don't think I could ever be in a relationship with you."

"Meaning?" That stung, but Harry tried not to take offence, he knew Ellis had no ill intent.

"You need to remember how hard it must be for Stella to be in a public relationship. You're literally one of the most famous men in the world right now and she has to navigate that every day," Ellis looked ahead of them, thinking about how much hate Stella got every day and how Harry never defended her. She got a little pissed off at the thought of that. "And half the time you're not even around to make all the agg worth it." She blurted out, taking a gulp of her latte and wincing at the burn at the back of her throat. Harry sighed heavily, growing agitated.

"She kept saying stuff like, 'remember who you are', on the phone. What the fuck is that about? Seriously, she can't expect me to be who I was when we were 16."

"I don't think she really means that, mate."

"Well, last time I checked, she was thoroughly enjoying the perks of being with 'one of the most famous men in the world'." Harry said, smirking cheekily in Ellis's direction.

"Don't be a cocky git, H." Ellis shut him down. She hoped that he hadn't become that person.

Harry chewed his cheek to keep from smiling, he was only winding her up but he knew he could let his ego get the best of him sometimes. He was self-aware, but he tried to go easy on himself after attending therapy sessions over it for many years. How was he not meant to get ahead of himself every once in a while when he had women, and men, lining up to tell him how amazing, handsome and talented he was? Holding up signs asking if they could call him, Daddy? Offering him jobs left and right, in industries he never thought he had any business getting involved in, with an insane amount of zeros added to each cheque they sent Jeff's way?

Stella always kept him on the ground. She'd check him, toot sweet, and with no remorse, and he needed that. But he remembered all the memories they made when they were younger, back in the 1D days. She'd fucking loved being Harry's girlfriend, that was a hill he would gladly die on. She'd loved the fast-paced, glamour of it all. She'd loved being by his side and knowing that almost every girl in the world wanted to be in her position. Travelling the world and fucking their way through tour dates. Waking up, naked and barely remembering any words in the English language but each other's names, and being too in love to worry about it. She'd stayed in the best hotel rooms money could buy and he'd flown her out first class whenever she'd had time off at university. She'd eaten at the best restaurants cities had to offer. He thought back to buying expensive lingerie for her, scheduling it to be delivered while he was rehearsing and returning to the many hotel rooms they stayed in to find her wearing it, sprawled on the bed and looking better than he could ever have imagined. He always marvelled at the way she could take his breath away. Every damn time.

She'd lived every 19-year-old's dream.

"I know she loved being with a pop star when she was a teenager, even into her early 20s... that life was new and exciting, for all of us. We all got swept up in it, including you." Ellis snapped him out of his wandering mind and he frowned, nodding. It was true, Harry's life went from zero to 60 overnight and thus so did Stella's. He made sure to take his friends with him for as long and as far as he could. They had amazing times. But everything changed when Stella graduated into midwifery, it was her dream and she was damn good at it. But her life became very serious, all of a sudden. Harry had begun to feel inadequate as a partner, he found her so impressive and it made him feel inferior. What he had to offer, she didn't want or need anymore. She had this wonderful qualification to bring life into the world, after dedicating years of her life to educating herself for it.

It caused havoc in their relationship, and confrontation began to bubble to the surface in ways it hadn't before. They'd nearly separated but decided to push through. Stella took a year out and Harry knew it was time to call it quits with the band. They'd spent time at home for the first time since Harry got on the X Factor and it changed everything. They both knew they had become a forever thing.

She gave up everything for him, to make it work. Now, perhaps it was time for him to consider doing the same. He looked at his friend, his brows deep in a frown behind his sunglasses.

"She's a grown woman now, Harry. She needs stability and support, she needs a man." Ellis nudged his side, smirking with a wink. "Her man."

"Alexa, play BBC Radio Two." Stella called to the little robotic woman who lived in her bedroom, before she began to ascend the stairs, cup of tea in hand. Delilah, the ginger Maine Coon Harry had brought home almost three years ago, dipped in and out of her legs to follow her, always her shadow. Their other cat, a Ragdoll named Percy, stayed in the living room. He'd jumped, or more accurately plopped, down into the dip in the sofa that Stella left behind when she'd gotten up. Percy was Stella's granddad's beloved pet and she'd taken him in after he passed away. He was 13 years old and yearned for a much slower life in his old age. But she adored him.

Stella and Delilah crossed the landing towards the main bedroom and while Stella went into the ensuite, the cat made haste to sit underneath her dressing table, knowing she would soon be required to keep her owner's feet warm by cuddling up on top of them while makeup was carefully applied.

The figure in the mirror over the sink stared back at Stella, with bags under its eyes and hair pulled up in a messy - not even a nice messy - bun with flyaways sticking out all over the place. She shook her head with a sigh and flicked the cold tap on to splash water over her face, in an attempt to bring her dull skin back to life. Work was killing her, she'd leave one shift, only to be back in for a double six hours later. It'd been a few days since she'd flown back from New York and she'd been almost flat out since. She hoped it was a temporary thing, due to staff members calling in sick and kept her fingers crossed it would die down soon.

The radio had been purely background noise until she heard the familiar notes and dulcet tones of her other half.

"You know it's not the same as it was..."

"You've got that right, babe," she chuckled sadly to herself. She thought back to the night Melanie gave birth to baby Molly and took a long shaky breath inwards.

Wednesday 21 September 2022

The room was dark, all but silent apart from a few monotonous beeps signalling Melanie's heart was still beating. Stella remembered the first time she'd been privy to a situation where all that mattered was that the beeps kept coming. One at a time, steady and consistent, that's all that was needed. She'd had nightmares where the beeps stopped. Dead. Silence.

George's voice, calm but stoic, shook her out of her daze. "You did everything you could, Stella. Dr. Brooks knows what she's doing, this baby will be fine." Stella looked up at him beside her, dressed in his blue labour scrubs, hairnet and mask.

"She has to be, George." Her voice was shaking, what had just happened was one of the most traumatic labours she'd come up against. She couldn't help but blame herself. After all, she'd been up for close to 22 hours by then. She wasn't up to assisting in Mel's labour, she'd been selfish in her choice to rush back and take over. She raised a wobbly hand up to her forehead and rubbed, willing herself not to cry.

Dr. Brooks worked skilfully and moved with absolute purpose, decades of experience had made her hands nimble. This baby needed to come out quickly and efficiently. Melanie had already lost a lot of blood and they couldn't afford for the baby to be starved of oxygen.

Stella closed her eyes and breathed deep.

"Take deep breaths for me, Mel." Stella was between Melanie's legs and it had been nearly an hour of intermittent pushing, to no avail. How could that be when she was fully dilated? "Come on, I know you can do this."

"I can't, I ca-can't." Melanie stuttered above her, taking huge drags from the gas and air, nearing unconsciousness.

"I don't think she's getting any contractions now, G," Stella stated, eyes wide in early panic as she looked at her general manager for help. Stella had already had to cut into Melanie in an attempt to accommodate the baby's head and shoulders, but she was just not budging.

"Stay calm. Mel, Melanie," George spoke gruffly over Stella's head and she snapped her head to look at his sudden move to the top of the bed. Melanie's head had gone slack, the spout of the gas and air tube hanging from her lips that were rapidly turning blue.

"Fuck." Stella whispered, barely audible. The following moments were a blur. She looked down at her gloved hands, gloves that were once blue but had turned red. She looked down at her scrubs, red, all the way down to her knees. "Fuck."

"Alright, here she is," Stella startled out of her reverie with the cry of a newborn. A beautiful newborn baby and it was possibly the most gorgeous sound she'd ever heard. The relief nearly took her out at the knees. George threw an arm around Stella's shoulders and squeezed and she smiled for the first time in what felt like days. Her ears pricked up as they searched for the all-important sound and there it was. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Under the flowing water of the hospital shower, Stella felt numb. She rested her head on her shoulders and let the droplets run down her body, breathing deeply. She thought about Harry. She wished he was there, it made her face crumble for a moment and she let a fist hit the shower wall in frustration. She might have fucked up her job and her relationship in one night, impressive even by her standards.

Stepping out in a rough, clinically pressed white towel that probably took off a layer of skin as she rubbed it up and down her limbs, she'd never felt more drained. She was tired to her bones. A friend on another ward, Angel had travelled in to bring Stella some clothes as she only lived a short walk away. She'd left them in Stella's locker for her to collect before going on her shift.

She dragged the velour trackie bottoms up her legs and threw the hoodie over her head, forgoing a bra - there was no way the girls were going to be constrained while she was in this mental state, that might've actually driven her to the brink.

She rubbed her hands over her eyes and tried to get the image of Melanie's unconscious face out of her mind. Baby and mother were both alive. Melanie was torn up, but she was alive. That's what mattered.

Towelling her hair dry, she couldn't wait to get home, get into bed and most likely cry herself to sleep. Throwing her bloodied scrubs into the wash bin next to the lockers and grabbing her bag from her locker she left and pushed the door to the staff changing area open. Had it always weighed a tonne? Shuffling in Angel's sliders that were a size too big for her, she smiled softly at Val who was still at the front desk. She'd probably finished, gone home and come back in the same time Stella had been dealing with Melanie. Val smiled smugly and looked to her right. Stella followed her gaze and nearly doubled over when her eyes landed on him.

"Oh my god," she sputtered through a breath. "Harry."

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes fluttered open and he shook his head slightly to adjust to his surroundings. Vision clearing and landing on her, he rose from the hard plastic chairs and Stella finally broke down. Her face crumbled at the pure comfort he brought just by being near. He was wearing what he'd worn to the arena the night before.

"Harry, have you been here all night?" She sobbed and he welcomed her to step into him bringing his hands to cup her cheeks, catching her tears with his thumbs. He nodded subtly, his brows pinching in the middle, exhausted and emotional. She dropped her bag to the floor and craned her neck slightly to push her lips to his, short quick pecks as he stroked the skin under her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered. "Please, don't ever run away again."

"I love you too, I'm sorry, baby." She whispered back, stroking his hair back and scratching the back of his neck.

"And you flew right after her..." Ellis said wistfully, looking at her friend as they neared the metal bench at the top of the Heath.

"Yeah... not gonna be winning any awards for eco-friendliness any time soon." He joked.

"Fair play, you can be a bloody romantic sod when you want to be, H." She marvelled, looking out to the skyline below them. He looked out to watch the rest of London going about their lives. An older couple caught his eye, holding hands and walking in step with each other down the hill. He thought about Stella for the umpteenth time that day; that was nothing new. They weren't perfect, but that night when she'd helped bring new life into the world, they'd brought new life into their relationship. And watching the pair of strangers continue their stroll, as the man brought his partner into his side to kiss the top of her head, he knew it would all be worth it in the end.

Because she'd been there all along.

----

Hope you enjoyed this little glance into Harry and Stella's world. If you've made it this far, I love ya!

See you next time.

Nel xo

Itty bitty taggy listy:

@lomlhstyles | @jessitpwk

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Hi Stella!

Some AruAni post-canon fluff, BUT featuring your resent wonderful arts in their 1930's clothes :)

Anna omg, you are killing me with this one😭😭 absolutely adorable.AAAA THANK YOU

Will you Marry Me?

"Come on dear, we'll be late!" Armin grabs an issue of today's newspaper as they quickly walk past a busy stand.

"You try running in these!" Annie sighs, one hand being pulled by his while the other holding onto her hat. "Besides, it's your fault that we're late!".

They had approximately 2 minutes left before their train departs, and are incredibly relieved to see that it's still there when they reach the platform. They rush into a carriage and occupy the first vacant seats they can find, happy that the train is quiet.

Armin laughs.

"I'm so happy we made it!" He takes her hand in his, playing with her gloved fingers. They sit across from each other, a small coffee table to the side.

"I wasn't going to let you leave the house like that" Annie relaxes into her seat, enjoying the pampering.

"Like what? You didn't like my moustache?" Armin teases, lifting a finger under his nose. This gets a laugh out of Annie.

"It doesn't suit you! Besides, you're too young to be rocking a moustache like that. I prefer a clean shave". Her hand cups his face and he leans in, kissing it.

Things have been like this for a while. Living post war was difficult for the longest time, with Armin being busy all the time and Annie taking care of her father. But over time things settled, and they were able to fully enjoy being with each other.

Armin never knew being in love would be so beautiful. Things weren't always this easy... with a past like theirs. Thankfully, Armin was a very patient man.

But there's one thing he can't be patient about anymore. And that certain thing rests in a little box in his pocket.

Today is the day he would ask Annie to marry him.

A couple of hours later they arrive at their destination, which is a small seaside town not far from where they live.

Armin wanted today to be special, so they visit the local botanical gardens, stroll along the pier, have a nice romantic dinner (and dessert), all ending with a walk on the beach. Of course he would ask her by the ocean.

"It's so beautiful" Annie says, gazing at the strong waves. She gave up on wearing her heels long ago, now hanging from her fingers. She enjoys the coolness of the sand between her toes as they walk along the beach. They had a lovely day, and she feels peaceful.

"Yeah..." Armin responds, gazing at her instead. They're holding hands and Armin's eyes dart between Annie and his pocket. When would be the right time? Maybe now?

"I want to try it" she mutters, catching Armin off guard.

"Try what?" But she's already heading towards the water.

"W-wait!" Armin follows, abandoning his shoes between small sand dunes.

Annie dips a toe into the water, and once she learns it's warm enough, she steps in further. Turning around, she waves at Armin, who was busy rolling up his trousers. "It's warm!"

Armin smiles to himself, but when he stands upright it's already too late. "Annie-!"

SPLASH

"Gah!" She gets hit by an unexpected wave. Although not big, it was strong enough to make her loose her balance and fall to her knees. Her clothes are now completely soaked, her hair undone and her hat floating away somewhere. Armin hears sobbing.

"Oh no" he rushes over, hand reaching out to help her up. "Are you ok?"

She takes his hand, but instead pulls him hard enough for him to fall into the water. "Woah, what was that for?!" Beside being completely soaked, his sunglasses also disappear off somewhere, never to be seen again.

Annie snorts, then starts laughing wholeheartedly. Armin's eyes widen and his heart skips a thousand beats.

He feels so lucky to be here with her, like this. Who would have thought a day would come where they can relax like this, no worries on their minds.

Well, there's one thing Armin is a bit worried about.

"Annie..." Armin reaches for his pocket, nervously.

"Yeah?" She replies between laughs and giggles.

Armin clears his throat, blushing and shifting in the shallow water to kneel before her. He pulls out the small box (now also damp) and slowly opens it, revealing a delicate ring decorated with a blue stone "Will you... marry me?"

Her laughter stops abruptly, so abruptly that she chokes and starts coughing. Her face turns red.

"Are you ok?!" Armin leans over, patting her over the back. This didn't go at all like he had planned.

"YES!!" She shouts a bit too loudly. "Yes" she says again and her arms fly around his shoulders, pulling him in a tight hug.

"Yes to being ok o-or...?" He asks, pulling away to look into her eyes.

"Yes, of course I want to marry you!" She smiles, kissing him deeply.

Armin's heart explodes.

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Paper Flowers & Hearts Made of Glass

A/N: Warning, Karen does do some inappropriate things with Billy. It doesn't go into detail. If you don't like it, don't read it. It sheds a light on how weird Karen's attraction to Billy was. It's a big of a long one-shot. Also, anti Billy Hargrove, but Karen was the adult in this situation. She should have known better.

Summary: Pre-season 3 Au, After Nancy walks in on Karen with Billy, Nancy struggles with the fallout and the change in her family dynamic. Luckily, Jonathan and Steve are there to help her.

Nancy huffed as she checked for the batteries in her purse. Jonathan tapped his fingers in time to music as he waited for the light to turn green.

"We have to go back," Nancy said.

"What? Nancy, we're going to miss the movie," Jonathan said. "You wanted to go, right? Write about the Hawk Theater because it's close to closing, get some attention, and hopefully, Tom will finally put one of your articles in the paper."

"Okay, first of all, I don't care if I get attention in the paper. I care that yet another local business is in danger of being closed because that stupid mall went up," Nancy said. "I care about the truth, and second of all, I left the new batteries for my walkie on my dresser."

"We'll only be gone a couple of hours, Nance," Jonathan said.

"And you know as well as I do that a lot can happen in two hours," Nancy said. "The walkie is dead, and my house is closer than yours."

"Wait a minute . . . If you hate the mall so much, why did you go last week?" Jonathan asked.

"Holly needed a new dress, and mom was busy," Nancy said.

"Right, Holly needed a new dress," Jonathan scoffed.

"What?! She did!" Nancy exclaimed.

Jonathan knew exactly why she went. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Steve in his Scoops Ahoy uniform. It should have made him jealous, and if it hadn't been for him picking up Will from the mall a couple of weeks ago, he probably would have been. The wind had been picking up quite a hit that evening, the clouds darkening with hints of the arrival of a storm. Jonathan had been waiting in the parking lot when Steve came out of the mall in full uniform with the hat and everything. He almost started laughing until his eyes caught sight of the shorts that hugged his thighs just right and the very high socks that completed the look. It should have been just as ridiculous, but Jonathan had liked it. A little too much.

He then proceeded to watch as the hat flew off his head, the winds whipping his hair and his shirt furiously. Jonathan had seen the sliver of skin that showed as his shirt was pulled by the wind. Steve yelled and went after the hat. Jonathan laughed. He couldn't help it. Finally, the hat stopped, and Steve bent down to get it. The shorts hugged him tighter, and Jonathan couldn't help the thought that flew through his mind. Steve’s ass looked really good in those shorts. Steve set the hat back on his head and caught sight of Jonathan. He grinned and wiggled his fingers at him just as Will slid into the car.

"Jonathan!" Nancy's voice broke through the memory.

"Right," Jonathan gulped.

How could he explain to his girlfriend that he was having non-straight thoughts about her ex-boyfriend? It wasn't a conversation that Jonathan was ready to have yet. The light turned green, and he started driving back to Nancy's house. When they pulled up to her her house, they were too focused on their thoughts to notice the car parked down the street.

"Are you coming in or staying here? We both know Mike and Will are Lucas's. Holly is having a playdate over at the Simons'. You don't have to worry about my dad. He's out of town for work," Nancy said.

"Why would I worry about Ted?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know, it doesn't seem like you two have a lot to talk about," Nancy said.

"He's just a man of few words, Nance," Jonathan said. "I like that about him."

"You don't have to say that," Nancy said.

"I'm really not, and he did try to show an interest in photography when you were with your mom. It was awkward, but then again, so am I, and if anyone understands what it's like to be afraid of putting your foot in your mouth that sometimes, you just say nothing, it's me. Also, he actually has really good taste in music," Jonathan said.

"That's true," Nancy said softly and looked at him fondly.

She kissed him and got out of the car. She walked into the house, a smile on her face. Nancy hurried up the stairs and rushed to grab the batteries. She shoved them into her purse and left her room. She stopped when she heard her mom moan loudly. Nancy peddled back to look through the open gap of her parents' bedroom door and froze at the sight. Her mother was writhing and bouncing naked on a man who was most certainly not her father if the blond hair was any indication. She couldn't see his face. . . At first. The man's head moved up, catching a glimpse of her and giving her a good view of his face. Billy Hargrove. Her mother was in the throws of passion with Billy Hargrove. Nancy felt sick and then grew angry when Billy smirked at her. She turned back towards her room and grabbed a bag before quickly throwing clothes into it. She wasn't going to stay here tonight. Nancy had been doing it so quickly that she hadn't realized she had been doing it loudly as well. Suddenly, her mother was bursting through the door wearing a robe.

"Nancy! You're home. I thought you were going to a movie," Karen said, and Nancy glared at her, making her realize that Nancy had seen. "Nancy, it's not - "

"Don't," Nancy said sharply and brushed past her.

Nancy ran down the stairs, racing past Billy sprawled out in her mother's bed smoking. She heard Karen chasing after her.

"Nancy, your father and I haven't been happy for - "

"SHUT UP!" Nancy yelled.

The anger in her heart grew along with the nausea in her stomach. Billy was the same age as Nancy. His mother might have been pregnant at the same time Karen had been with her. How could she do that? How does that not immediately turn someone off? Nancy burst out the front door, gripping her bag as a wave of dizziness took over. Nancy vomited all over her front lawn, and she was vaguely aware of Jonathan getting out of his car to approach her. She had seen more disgusting things than this, but yet, this made her vomit. Maybe it was because their mother had done it right there in their home. . .the place where her kids her slept. . .in the very bed that she had conceived her kids with her husband.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

She wiped her mouth and straightened up, grabbing onto Jonathan as tears welled up in her eyes. Karen walked out the door.

"Nancy - "

"I hate you."

Karen stepped back as if she had been slapped. Billy chose that moment to lean against the open front door wearing nothing but her father's pajama pants. It looked ridiculous. Her father was a lot taller than him, so he had to roll up the bottoms.

"Who's your daddy, Nancy?" Billy smirked.

It didn't take much for Jonathan to put two and two together. His stomach churned.

"Bring me to your house. Please," Nancy said.

He didn't have to argue with her. He helped Nancy to the car and quickly pulled out of the driveway. No one was home when he pulled up to his house, which he was thankful for because it meant that Nancy could cry as loudly as she wanted. . .scream as loudly as she wanted to. Thirty minutes later, Nancy had cried herself to sleep in his arms without saying a word. It was at that moment that he heard his mom walking through the doorway with Hop complaining loudly about El and Mike. For once, though, they weren't glued at the lips which he was thankful for. Jonathan pulled himself away carefully and walked into the kitchen. Whatever they were about to say, it stopped when they saw Jonathan.

"I thought you and Nancy were going to see a movie," Joyce said. "It's not over already, is it?"

"No, mom, we never went," Jonathan said seriously. "I was wondering if Nancy could stay here a few days."

"Now, Jonathan, I don't know if her mom would be okay with that," Joyce said.

"Fuck her mom!" Jonathan blurted, scowling.

"Jonathan!" She exclaimed, shocked.

"Did Karen do something to Nancy?" Hopper asked.

"Well. . . It's more like Nancy walked in on her mother doing something to someone else," Jonathan said.

"So, she walked in on her parents having sex? It happens," Hopper laughed.

"Hop. . .Ted's out of town," Joyce said.

"Goddamnit," Hop cursed and then his face softened. "Poor kid."

"It's worse. . ." Jonathan trailed off.

"How?" Joyce asked.

"She slept with Billy," Jonathan said.

"You mean, Billy Graham from the hardware store?" Hopper asked and then frowned. "Never thought he would be the kind of man to cheat on his wife, but then I didn't think Karen would cheat."

"No, not that Billy," Jonathan said.

"Billy Burke? That old firefighter?" Joyce asked. "I don't think he can walk. Let alone. . ."

"No, I wish," he muttered.

"You know, I think there's a Billy on the force. He just started. A bit young," Hopper said.

"Nope!"

"Okay, well, the only other person that I can think of is Billy Hargrove, and Karen wouldn't be that stupid," Joyce laughed, and then she saw Jonathan's face. She gasped. "No!"

"Oh! For fuck's sake!" Hopper exclaimed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Doesn't she know that he's the same age as her own fucking daughter?"

"I don't think she cares," Jonathan muttered. "Mom? Can Nancy stay?"

"Yeah, sure, is she here now?" Joyce asked.

"She's asleep in my room," Jonathan said.

"Okay, I'll call Karen, and then I'll call Sue," Joyce said. "You should go be with her."

Joyce hugged her son tightly and smiled at him softly. Jonathan shuffled off back to his room.

"Well, I'm going to get out of your hair," Hopper growled. "You have your hands full."

"Hopper! You can't beat up Karen!" Joyce yelled and paused. "But I can!"

A couple of days later, Nancy hasn't really said anything about it. She was still going to the paper and doing her job, but she was quiet throughout the day. Normally, she would complain about Tom and the others but not this time. Although there were times when he woke up and he found her talking with his mom at the kitchen table. It was a good thing. A mom was what she needed right now, and his mom was always good at making someone feel better. Mike and Holly were staying with them too, but they weren't sure why. Joyce had gone to his house and gathered some clothes for them. She had also gone to talk with Karen. When she came back, her face was sad but also angry. Jonathan didn't know what to say to Will or Mike whenever they asked what was going on.

"I have to tell Mike," Nancy spoke.

They had just gotten home from the paper. Nancy was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him.

"Are you sure?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't want to keep lying to him, and he's just going to keep asking," Nancy said and stared at the spot on the floor.

"Nancy?" Jonathan asked.

She got up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you for being here for me," Nancy said.

"Always," Jonathan said and kissed the top of her head.

"Mike in Will's room?" She asked.

"I think they're coloring with Holly," Jonathan said.

Nancy sighed and pulled back a little to look at his face.

"I hate her for doing this," Nancy said.

"Me too," Jonathan said.

"But she's my mom, and I still love her," Nancy said softly. "It's weird feeling both of that at the same time. I'm not ready to forgive yet, but. . .there's a part of me that wants to."

"Whenever you're ready. I'll be here even if you decide to never forgive her," Jonathan said and paused. "I think you will, though."

"Why?" Nancy asked.

"Because she's your mom, and you love her. And you forgave me after what I did," Jonathan said.

"Yours wasn't intentional. Besides, karma came in the form of Steve breaking your camera, and then you made up for it by risking your life against that demogorgon. You and Steve both," Nancy said. "He fucked up too with the Hawk and what he said. We forgave him too. I just need time with this because this feels bigger than all of that, but at the same time, it doesn't. I don't know! I just don't know!"

Jonathan kissed her forehead and rubbed her shoulders as she sighed.

"How about we take the kids out for ice cream after we tell Mike?" Jonathan asked.

"To Scoops Ahoy?" She asked.

"Yes, I know seeing Steve in his outfit will make you feel better," Jonathan said.

"What?!" Nancy exclaimed with wide eyes, and she blushed. "I don't - "

"Don't lie to me, Nance," he said in amusement.

Nancy deflated. Frowning, she collapsed back on the bed.

"Okay, so, maybe I still having feelings for Steve," Nancy said. "Shouldn't you be upset about that?"

"No, and there's a reason why, but I'm just not ready to say it outloud yet," he said.

"Okay?" She asked, and then she sighed. "I'm a terrible person! I'm just like my mom, and you're just okay with it. You're better than me."

"This isn't a contest, Nancy, and our situation is different. For one thing, we're all the same age and two, we're not married. Although this is a relationship. You haven't cheated on anyone yet. . .I mean, there was some overlap between me and Steve but that was a weird situation. Another thing is, we're young and we're going to fuck up but clearly having feelings for Steve was never a mistake and me getting into your head about it was the wrong thing to do because in reality, I also - " Jonathan cut himself off.

"What?" Nancy asked.

Jonathan opened his mouth again, trying to say the words that would reassure Nancy. His stomach fluttered like there were a thousand butterflies eating away at him.

"I, uh - "

Suddenly, Nancy's eyes twinkled with understanding. She got up and touched his cheek with her hand. Jonathan sighed and leaned into her touch.

"Whenever you're ready," Nancy said softly and kissed him.

"I love you," Jonathan said and then frowned. "I don't know why I'm having trouble saying this outloud."

"I love you too," Nancy said and hugged him tightly. "It's okay."

Nancy and Jonathan walked into Will's room. The three of them were lying on the floor, coloring and drawing. Will and Holly were teaming up together to tease Mike about his artwork.

"It's not that bad!" Mike exclaimed, but even he couldn't even stop the smile from spreading across his face.

Nancy really hated to interrupt this moment, but it needed to be said sooner rather than later.

"Hey, Holly, why don't you color in Jonathan's room? I need to talk to Mike. If you do that, we'll go out for ice cream," Nancy promised.

"Yay! Ice cream!" Holly shrieked, and she ran out of the room.

"Do I need to leave too?" Will asked.

"You might as well stay, Mike's probably going to tell you anyway, and it's better that you're here," Nancy said softly.

"Does this have anything to do with why we can't go home yet?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. . .the other day, Jonathan and I were supposed to go to the movies, but I had forgotten something at home. When I got there, I saw mom. . .I saw mom having sex with another guy," Nancy said.

"What?! Mom cheated on dad?!" Mike yelped and he jumped up. "No, there's no way. . .I mean, I know things have always been strained between them, but she would never do that!"

"I'm sorry, Mike," Will said softly as he stood up as well.

"I saw it," Nancy whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Do you know who she slept with?" Mike asked as he began pacing.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Who?" He asked.

"Well. . ."

"Nancy, who was it?" He asked.

He stopped pacing and turned to face her. Will was looking at her now. Nancy bit her lip.

"Billy Hargrove," Nancy whispered.

"No," Mike said, horrified. "There's no fucking way that mom would sleep with that racist abusive piece of shit!"

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"No way! You're lying! You're lying!" Mike yelled at her, his voice breaking.

"I'm not," she said.

Mike turned away from them all and placed his head in his hands. Will placed his hand on his shoulder, and Mike shrugged it off at first, before turning around to hug Will tightly. Mike's heavy, stuffy breathing slowly began to calm down, and he pulled away. He sniffed before turning towards his sister and hugging her. As Nancy held her brother, she realized she had to stand on her tiptoes to do it. When the hell did her brother get so tall? Mike pulled away.

"I'm sorry that you had to see it," Mike said.

"Me too," Nancy said.

"Ugh. . .Billy's the same age as you," Mike realized and screwed up his face.

"Yeah, I threw up on the lawn when I left," Nancy said.

"What are we going to do?" Mike asked.

"I don't know, but Jonathan and I figured that we would go get ice cream. Are you too upset to eat ice cream?" Nancy asked.

"I am never too upset to eat ice cream," Mike said.

"Are we all going?" Will asked.

"No, we all took votes and decided that everyone but you would go out and have fun," Mike told him, smirking.

"Asshole," Will said, his face splitting into a wide grin as he shoved him.

Everyone laughed as they walked out of the house, Holly wrapping herself around Mike's leg. He laughed and peeled her off his leg, holding her tightly.

"Are you upset, Mikey?" Holly asked.

"Better now that we're getting ice cream," Mike said and kissed her forehead.

When they walked into Scoops Ahoy, Jonathan and Nancy were both disappointed to find that Steve was in the back dealing with inventory. Robin was nice enough, though. Also, Max and Lucas spilled in not long after them. Mike led them to another booth to fill them in what happened. Max cursed more than Lucas, of course, and then tried to apologize for Billy. Mike wouldn't let her, though. It wasn't her fault that Billy was an asshole. After that, Holly moved from Nancy and Jonathan's table to Mike's, where she became enamored with Max's red hair. Nancy ate her ice cream as she played footsie with Jonathan under the table and jumped when Robin yelled.

"Hey, dingus! It's your break time. . .also, your children are here!" Robin yelled.

"Jesus, again? Weren't they just in here?" Steve asked from the back.

He complained loudly, but he hurried out of the back quite eagerly. His eyes lit up for a brief moment before hiding it behind annoyance. Nancy and Jonathan shared an amused look before turning back to Steve. If anyone was a cat in human form, it was Steve. It was a no and a sarcastic comment before he proceeded to do exactly what someone he cares for asked him to do. . .well, mostly. Nancy never blamed him for being scared of going up against the lab. She knew it wasn't just the monsters in the dark and the gateways that they came through, but people who were in positions of power with money much like Steve’s father, who could hurt whoever they want with it and cover it up. He never talked much about his father, but when he did, he always made him sound shady.

"Well, for whatever reason, your children either like this place or they really like you," Robin said.

Nancy watched as Steve took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and rolled his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his face, though. It told Nancy that this kind of back and forth happened on a daily basis. She got up and leaned against the counter, watching his eyes light up at the sight of her.

"Well, I know one who is clearly in it for Steve’s hair care secret," Nancy teased.

"Nancy! Hey!" Steve exclaimed. "And Jonathan's here too!"

"Come join us," Nancy said.

"Okay," Steve said.

Nancy pushed him to slide in next to Jonathan before sitting down next to Steve. He was now wedged in between them. He didn't even question it when they started playing footsie under the table with him.

"So I'm guessing you guys didn't come here to get into the theater?" Steve asked.

"What? Why would you say that?" Jonathan asked.

"No reason," Steve scoffed and didn't meet his eyes.

"Well, we came here for the ice cream to cheer us up," Nancy said. "Seeing you here was just an added bonus."

Steve smiled for a moment and looked at Jonathan, who smiled shyly back at him. Steve turned back to Nancy with a frown in his face.

"Wait, what did you need cheering up for?" Steve asked.

"Well. . ."

And Nancy proceeded to tell him everything, from walking in on her mom to now. Steve sat in silence and stared at her.

"Fuck. . .Nance, I'm sorry. . .," Steve sighed and then scowled. "Fucking Billy of all people! I unfortunately know what it's like to walk in on one of your parents doing something like that."

"You do? Of course, you do! You told me!" Nancy exclaimed and slapped her forehead.

"I told you my father's a cheater. I didn't tell you that I was eight when I walked in on him. My mother was with me too," Steve said. "It wasn't the last time that we would walk in on him either. It happened a lot. It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose. I think the fucker got off on it."

"Jesus," Jonathan muttered.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"It fucking sucks," Nancy said with tears in her eyes.

"It does," Steve said, taking her hand. "My father is different than your mother, though. I don't think she's the kind of person who would hold something like this over your heads or to intentionally hurt you. I think she just got lost, and I'm really hoping that this was a one-time thing."

"Why do you have so much faith in her?" Nancy said softly.

"I don't know. . .she's your mom," Steve said. "I didn't think she would ever act on something like this."

"What does that mean?" Nancy asked.

"Well, sometimes she could be a little flirty, but it was harmless," Steve shrugged.

"What the fuck? She flirted with you when we were together?" Nancy asked.

"I mean, it was just things about how handsome I am and how if she was several years younger, she would steal me from you," Steve shrugged. "It's just weird things older adults say."

"You know, she always hugged me a little too long, and she always said how lucky Nancy was. . .very, very lucky," Jonathan would say. "And she would stroke my collar whenever she straightened it. She'd say shit like to me, too."

"I can't believe it!" Nancy shrieked.

"Shit, Nance, I'm sorry - " Jonathan started to say.

"I can't believe that neither one of you told me that my mom is a pervert!" She yelled before storming out of the ice cream parlor. "I'm going to talk to mom."

"We should go and apologize," Jonathan frowned.

"Man, I don't think it's us she's mad at," Steve said.

"Still. . .should we buy her flowers?" Jonathan asked.

"Ooh, even better," Steve said. "She's a writer. We're going to have to make flowers."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Of course, Nancy wasn't mad at them. All of those situations sounded harmless. . .or did they? Was Steve wrong? Was this who her mother was? Maybe the thing with Billy was just a one-time thing. Nancy had ended up walking right out of the mall and marching right towards home, not caring about the glaring beating down upon her. By the time she got to the house, Nancy was drenched in sweat. She barged into the house to find her mother sitting at the kitchen table with Billy.

"Unbelievable," Nancy scoffed.

Billy stood up suddenly. The chair he was sitting in came crashing to the ground. He brushed past her.

"You got what you want, princess," Billy scoffed, tears in his eyes.

"Don't tell me you actually had feelings for her," Nancy said.

"And if I did?" Billy scowled.

"I wouldn't believe you even if you weren't an asshole," Nancy said. "I don't like you, but my mother was the adult in this situation, and I'm not saying that you can't make your own decisions but my mom was old enough to put her foot firmly down and told you no."

"You're acting like you're better than her when really you're no different. Keeping both Byers and Harrington on the leash. . .playing with both of them. . .what makes you better than me. . .better than your mom?" Billy asked as he got close to her, practically spitting in her face.

"It's different," Nancy said.

"How?" He asked, and she couldn't think of anything to say to that. "That's what I thought."

He stormed out of the house, the front door slamming loudly behind him. Nancy whirled around to face her mother. She looked ashamed and extremely sad. Her face was red and puffy. She had been crying. Was she sad that her weird twisted relationship with Billy was over, or was she upset that she hurt her children? That this would hurt Dad?

"Dad didn't deserve this," Nancy said.

"I know," Karen said softly.

"You know, there were so many better ways that you could have relived your youth. I mean, I hope that's what you were doing," Nancy said. "Because if it's not, then Mom, you have a bigger problem."

"I think that's what I was doing," Karen said. "I don't know."

"You had to use Billy to do it?" She asked.

"You don't understand, Nancy, I was so young when I married your father - " Karen started to explain.

"Sue and Charles were young when they got married, but Sue doesn't regret marrying him," Nancy snapped. "Nor does Sue want to fuck the guy who tried to kill her son."

"It worked for them!" Karen yelled. "I thought I was in love with your father. I thought I knew what I wanted then."

"What do you want now?" She asked.

"I don't know. I was flattered by his attention. . .it was thrilling, and I just stopped thinking," Karen said. "I thought he was what I wanted, but I know now that he was a mistake."

"Was Dad a mistake too? Were you ever in love with him?" Nancy asked.

"There were times when I got close," Karen said.

"When?"

"When you kids were born and he was in awe of you. He never wanted to let you guys go in the beginning. So, I decided that I wanted to go to work when you were born and he would stay home with the kids. He really loved you, but I also missed you, and he saw that. He went to work, and I stayed home with you then with Mike, then with Holly. He hates working so much and being away from us. He always loved me more than I loved him, and I didn't know how to deal with that. When he got too tired to show his affection with me, I didn't think I would miss it so much," Karen said.

"I do remember when he was around a lot. He was really great," Nancy said softly. "He wasn't afraid of letting me practice putting make up on him."

"He's a great dad," Karen said. "I'm just a shitty mom."

"You're not a shitty mom. A shitty wife, maybe," Nancy sniffed, with tears in her eyes. "Is this thing with Hargrove actually over?"

"Yes, it was a mistake," Karen said. "I never should have started it."

"No, you shouldn't have," Nancy said. "I just don't get Billy of all people. He's the same age as me, mom! Not only that, he tried to kill Lucas and nearly killed Steve!"

"He told me about that. He was looking for his sister," Karen said.

A white fury filled Nancy. . .just as she was close to maybe forgiving her mom. She wasn't there for the aftermath of Billy. Nancy and Jonathan had come in to check on the kids while Joyce had gone with Will to the hospital. The kids were conversing about what to do with Billy while Steve sat on the couch, barely conscious. He had looked so bad, especially when he was struggling to breathe. Nancy and Jonathan had taken care of him and managed to convince him to go to the doctor just as Hopper walked through the door. He had taken care of Billy while they had taken Steve to the hospital. It was so bad that Steve had passed out again, and it had scared the shit out of Nancy. Jonathan, too. Nothing justified the damage that Billy had done to Steve. . .whether or not he cared what happened to Max. Nancy doubted he cared about her at all.

"I didn't think you were stupid enough to fall for his bullshit. Sleeping with him for his looks. . .as shallow as it is. . . I get, even if you can somehow manage to get past his ugly behavior which I can't," Nancy said.

Of the things that Steve and Jonathan had done, they would never do what Billy had done. They would never harm a child, and the thing that's also drastically different from Billy was how much they were both willing to learn from their mistakes. Despite both of their awful fathers, Steve and Jonathan had both managed to not continue their circle of abuse. It was the one thing that made her realize that her situation was different from her mother's and thankfully so. She would never fall for someone like Billy Hargrove.

"You don't understand, Nancy," Karen said.

"I don't understand?! You don't understand!" Nancy exclaimed and then paused as she looked at her mother. "Oh my God, are you in love with him?"

"You can't help who you fall for," Karen said softly. "You know that."

"Are you talking about Jonathan?" Nancy asked. "I can't believe you're throwing that in my face."

"It wasn't my intention to hurt Ted or to fall for Billy, just like it wasn't your intention to hurt Steve and fall for Jonathan," Karen said.

Like we're in love?

Bullshit.

Tell me.

What?

That you love me!

She remembered the way she laughed because, didn't he know? Shouldn't he just know how much she loved him? But she had also loved Jonathan. Nancy was angry. Technically, what Karen had said was right. She never meant to hurt Steve. Hopefully, that will be amended soon if Steve had the same feelings that Jonathan did. It should have happened back then. . .if she had just talked about how much she wanted both of them. In that way, she was like her mother. She had been too afraid to talk about her feelings.

"You hit on my boyfriends!" Nancy blurted out.

A feeling of excitement shot through her as she called them both of her boyfriends, even if it was only for that moment.

"Steve and Jonathan?! I would never! I mean, sure, I thought they were handsome, but I would never do that to you," Karen said.

"Why don't I believe you?" She asked.

She wondered if maybe they had been just thoughts that her mother never would have acted upon. Maybe that's why she did what she did with Billy. She spent so long keeping everything in and trying to be perfect. Suddenly, the sound of the front door startled the two women, and they both heard Ted come in. They heard the loud thumping sound of him throwing his suitcase down, and then he appeared in the kitchen.

"I couldn't stay there another day with those assholes. I told them I was going home to my family whether they liked it or not," Ted said with a heavy sigh, and then he looked at them. "Okay, usually it's hard for me to read a room, but it seems like you guys are upset. Did I miss anything?"

Suddenly, Nancy was throwing herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. They weren't normally huggers, but this called for a special occasion. Nancy hadn't realized how much she had taken her dad for granted or how much she really didn't know about him. How hard did he work just so he could come to them. . .only to be exhausted by the time he did? How many times did he enjoy the sounds of Nancy and Mike arguing or Holly curling up against him to tell him all about a story she had made up? How many times did he fall asleep comforted by the sounds of his family and not tell anyone? Nancy vaguely remembered the times she had a nightmare and the couple of times that she felt a comforting hand in the darkness on the back of her head, like he was doing now. She recalled a deep voice, reassuring her that she was okay and that she was safe. Did he get up in the middle of the night and hear her in distress? How many times did he do that? As Karen watched them, she burst into tears. Because of her own unhappiness had she unknowingly projected it onto her own kids and put a wall up between them and their father? Nancy might have been wrong. Not only was she a shitty wife, but she was a shitty mom, too.

"I missed you," Nancy said and she really did.

"Oh, I missed you too. I would have thought people would have been glad I was away," Ted said as he tried to pull off his self depreciation as a casual joke.

"No, Daddy, of course not," Nancy said and pulled away. "We love you."

"What's going on? Why is your mother crying?" Ted asked and moved over to her. "Karen?"

"Are you going to tell him or should I?" Nancy asked Karen.

Meanwhile, Jonathan had taken the kids back to his house after Holly had fallen asleep. He had waited a long time for Nancy to call and say that everything was alright, but she had taken too long. She hadn't even come back even when Mom came home from work.

"Where's Nancy?" Joyce had asked.

"She, uh, went to talk to her mother," Jonathan said.

"She didn't want you to go with her?" Joyce asked.

"Well, she was kind of mad at me and Steve. I don't think she wanted us to follow her," Jonathan said. "I'm supposed to go over to Steve’s house later to make flowers. . . Whatever that means."

"What happened?" Joyce asked.

"We kind of implied that Billy not might have been the only one that Karen had hit on. I don't think she was comforted when we said that we didn't think she was ever going to act on what she said or did," Jonathan said.

"Who else did she hit on?" Joyce asked, and he paused. "Jonathan?"

Just as he was about to say something, the front door opened, and Nancy came into the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

"I fought with my mom just as my dad came home early. My mom told him what happened. They fought about it, but they've decided to get a divorce. Now they're arguing about who should move out. Dad volunteered to do it but mom said she should because she's the one who fucked up. I had to get out of there," Nancy sniffled.

"Oh, sweetheart," Joyce said softly.

Nancy cried and hugged Jonathan tightly while Joyce rubbed her back soothingly. After a while, Nancy pulled back and smiled gratefully at them.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said softly.

"It's been a long time coming," Nancy said. "I just didn't expect it to come like this."

"You look exhausted. Do you want to go lay down?" Joyce asked softly.

"Yeah. Jonathan?" Nancy asked.

"You don't even have to ask," he said softly. "After our nap, do you feel like going over to Steve's? I sort of told him that I would go over there and that we would make flowers to make it up to you."

"You guys don't have to do that," Nancy said softly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Well, we want to do something nice for you," Jonathan said. "I told him to keep the uniform on too."

"That's really nice," Nancy laughed. "And completely unselfish of you."

"What are you talking about? There's nothing at all in it for me," Jonathan teased, flashing her his dimples.

Nancy laughed as she fell into bed with him, curling up on top of him.

"I love you," she whispered, promising herself that she would tell him more and mean it.

After she had a much needed nap, Nancy got up with Jonathan. She fixed her hair and makeup before threatening Jonathan with her eyeliner. She chased him around the room before trapping him on the bed and holding it over his eye. They were both laughing, and she could feel his laughter through her legs that were straddling his stomach.

"Please?" Nancy pouted.

"Fine," Jonathan laughed.

She knew why he was saying yes, but Nancy would happily take advantage of that, and so, she did. She giggled as she put eyeliner, blush, and lipstick on him. Nancy really couldn't believe that he was letting her do this. Once she finished, she sat back to admire her work. He looked pretty, but that was true either way. She stared at him, and her heart warmed at the sight. He would be beautiful to her no matter what gender he was. His heart had always called out to her, just like Steve’s had. As she thought about it, it really was the same with Steve, too, or with anyone. Nancy leaned down to kiss Jonathan, but he stopped her with a grin.

"Nancy, you're going to ruin my pretty makeup," Jonathan said.

"I'm going to ruin you," Nancy said and attached her lips to his neck.

"We do not have time for this," he said.

"Fine," she said and playfully rolled her eyes as she got off of him. "You going to take that off?"

"And ruin all that work you did to make me look pretty?" Jonathan asked.

"Just say you like it," she said teasingly. "And for the record, you're always pretty."

They walked out of Jonathan's room, giggling and into the kitchen where Joyce sat with the kids.

"We're going to Steve’s," Nancy announced.

"Why is Jonathan wearing makeup?" Mike asked.

"Because he loves me," Nancy beamed and Joyce laughed.

"You look beautiful, Jonathan," she grinned. "Have fun, you two."

"You look like a pretty princess, Jon!" Holly exclaimed happily.

"Thank you, Holly," Jonathan said in amusement as everyone laughed.

"Can we have a tea party later?" Holly asked.

"Absolutely," Jonathan laughed.

"And after can we play Reporter? I port like Nance, and you can be my sistant?" Holly asked.

"Yeah, whatever you want," Jonathan said and kissed the top of her head.

Nancy smiled softly at him as they said goodbye to everyone else. They sat in comfortable silence all the way over to Steve’s house. When they did arrive and Steve opened the door, wearing his Scoops outfit. He looked surprised to see Nancy. Jonathan had forgotten to call ahead. Steve’s eyes moved from Nancy to Jonathan. Steve smirked.

"You look pretty, Jonathan," he said.

"You're just saying that because I'm wearing makeup," Jonathan replied, his facing heating up.

"Yeah, no, I always think you're pretty," Steve scoffed. "Come on in."

Jonathan touched his shoulder gently on the way past to thank him silently. He squeezed it and let go. Jonathan and Nancy followed Steve into the kitchen, where there were stacks of paper waiting for them. There were also stacks of snacks.

"So, are we making flowers with paper or with food?" Nancy asked in amusement.

"With paper because you're a writer," Steve said.

"Thank you, Steve," Nancy said.

"It's not a problem," Steve said. "I just wanted to do something to make you feel better. I'm sorry I never told you about what your mother told me when we were together."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Nancy said. "It was my mother who I was mad at."

"I figured, but still, you're upset, and I wanted to do something," Steve said.

"You're very sweet," Nancy said and squeezed his shoulder in the same way that Jonathan did. "So, how many are we going to make?"

"As many as you want to," Steve said as he sat down to show them how to make them.

"How do you know how to make these?" Jonathan asked.

"I got bored in class one day. We were reading To Kill a Mockingbird, which I've already read," Steve said. "I was playing around with a sheet of paper, and then it just sort of happened."

"You already read the book?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I enjoy reading every now and then," Steve shrugged.

"I didn't mean to sound so surprised," Jonathan said.

"If that surprises you, you should see him in his glasses," Nancy said.

"Nance!"

"Okay, I'm going to have to see that," Jonathan said and widened his eyes. "Please?"

"Put those eyes away, I'll have to take out my contacts," Steve said and left the room.

Steve came back wearing a pair of round thin gold frames. Jonathan felt his chest grow warm, and he blinked rapidly.

"Sexy," Jonathan blurted out, and he sliced his finger on a sheet of paper. "Fuck! Paper cut!"

Steve pulled a first aid kit out of one of the cabinets and grabbed his hand. He held eye contact with Jonathan as he stopped the bleeding and put medicine on the cut. After he wrapped it, he placed a kiss on the band-aid.

"Better?" Steve asked.

"Better," Jonathan gulped.

"You really think so?" Steve asked, blushing suddenly. "The glasses?"

"Yeah, definitely," Jonathan said. "You should wear them all the time."

Nancy smiled at both of them. Steve had always been insecure about his glasses, despite what she told him, and that was clearly still the case.

"I don't know," Steve shrugged.

"Do I have to get on my knees and beg?" Jonathan laughed, and then he realized what he said. "I mean . . . You know these paper flowers aren't going to make themselves. . .shut up, Nancy."

It only made her laugh harder, and for Steve’s smirk to widen. Jonathan flicked on the stereo that was on the counter, hoping it would drown out their amusement. He was having a hard time hiding his own, though. Steve wedged himself in between them and started making more flowers. Steve hummed along to the music and swayed his hips. Nancy and Jonathan glanced at him every so often, smiling. She really was enjoying making these flowers. The company certainly helped. The three of them made plenty of flowers, but they didn't want to stop as the music flowed through them. Nancy knew they were done, however, when a Bob Seger song came on. Steve immediately dropped his unfinished flower and picked up a finished one. He put it behind his ear and began to sing. Jonathan was surprised when Steve slipped his hand into his and pulled him into his arms to dance. Jonathan was stunned at first and wasn't sure what to do, so he just let Steve lead the way. Eventually, he started laughing when Steve had them dance wildly about the kitchen.

"Still like that old-time rock 'n' roll! That kind of music just soothes the soul! I reminisce about the days of old! With that old-time rock 'n' roll!" Steve sang.

Jonathan and Nancy laughed harder when Steve dipped him. The last few days had been nothing but heartache for Nancy, and she felt lighter than ever as she watched her boys dance around the kitchen. Jonathan eventually pulled away, and so, Steve turned on Nancy. She laughed and shook her head.

"No, absolutely not!" Nancy giggled.

She didn't stop him, however, when he pulled her into his arms. She tilted her head back and smiled, letting some of the things that had burdened her fade away. She wasn't pretending that things weren't complicated, just letting go of some of the things that she couldn't change, the things she didn't have any control over. Life was short, and she wanted to live while she could. The song changed into a slow one, and as Steve started to pull away, she pulled him back.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"For what?" Steve asked softly.

"You deserved an apology back then for what happened. You didn't deserve that. I should have talked to you about how I was feeling," Nancy said. "I just didn't know how. I should have told you that you weren't a shitty boyfriend."

"I wasn't exactly good at talking about how I was feeling either," Steve said.

"Maybe we were both just stuck in a shitty situation," Nancy said.

"It's certainly a lot for people to handle, let alone teenagers, isn't it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I think the fact that we managed to get this far is a miracle," Nancy snorted.

"On top of having screwed up parents too," Steve said.

Nancy used to think that her and Steve were drastically different people. He was a jock and she was a nerd, but there was a lot more there, wasn't it? Both of their parents lacked proper communication, one of their parents had an affair, and their distance from each other had unknowingly caused a strain on their children. There's nothing Steve and Nancy wouldn't do for their little found family. The difference between their parents, though, is that Nancy had faith that her parents, while not together, would still come through this on top as a family. Just because you're divorced doesn't mean you're still not family. . .right? Nancy hoped that was the case. She could see that Steve had the same hope for his own mother, maybe not his dad, but for whatever reason, Nancy was glad that she had someone there who understood. Even Jonathan understood, even though he lost faith in his father a long time ago. She was glad they were both there.

"Thank you," Nancy said softly and kissed his cheek.

"For what?" Steve asked.

"For everything," she said softly.

Jonathan had been watching them, his heart growing with fondness for the both of them. Nancy wrapped her arms around Steve before yanking Jonathan into the hug as well. He laughed. He had a lot to be grateful to Steve for as well. Jonathan moved to kiss Steve’s cheek like Nancy did, but of course, Steve had to move his head at that exact moment. Jonathan and Steve's lips bumped together. They both froze for a moment before Steve started to move his lips against Jonathan's. He didn't waste a second returning the kiss. His lips were perfectly plump, and they felt just as right as Nancy's did. Their arms were still wrapped around Nancy as they kissed, and a jolt of arousal shot through Jonathan when she made a soft moan at the sight of them. The sound had spurred Steve on as well because he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue inside Jonathan's mouth. This time, it was Steve and Jonathan who were moaning as well as they gasped eagerly into each other's mouths. They pulled away at the same time, breathing heavily.

"That was . . . ," Steve trailed off.

"Great!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Yeah," they agreed.

Jonathan stared at Steve, the sight of Jonathan's lipstick smeared on his face. Now he knew why some people wore lipstick. The sight of Steve’s swollen lips with something Jonathan had worn spread across them was definitely doing something to him. Steve looked throughly kissed, and it was because of Jonathan. It had done something for Nancy too because a moment later, she pulled Steve in for a kiss. They were both eager, but while Steve went in soft, Nancy went in aggressively. It wasn't like before he saw them kissing in the hallways at school. There was no jealousy this time. Maybe the jealousy back then hadn't been because Jonathan wanted to be in Steve's place, but because he had wanted to be with both of them. Nancy pulled away.

"I still - I've always loved you, Steve," Nancy said softly. "I just never knew how to tell you that I loved Jonathan too."

"I still love you," Steve said and paused. "Both of you."

The three of them held each other in a comfortable silence. Nancy swallowed.

"Can we stay?" Nancy blurted out and looked at Jonathan. "Do you want to?"

"If Steve wants us too," Jonathan said, swallowing thickly.

"Please, stay."

The next day, Jonathan brought some of the flowers home for Joyce, Holly, Will, and Mike after dropping Nancy off at her house. She wanted to see how her parents were doing. When Nancy walked in with a paper flower in her hand, she found her father sitting at the kitchen table. His glasses were off, and his face was in his hands.

"Dad?" Nancy asked softly.

Ted looked up. His eyes were puffy and red. Nancy hated how sad he looked.

"Was there anything that I could have done differently?" He asked.

"I think you could have tried your best, and it still wouldn't have been enough. She may not have known what she wanted, but I think she always knew that she didn't want you . . . I'm sorry, that was harsh," Nancy said.

"No, it's the truth," Ted said. "I didn't do my best."

"Maybe, but I think it might because you both knew on some level that it was over. I think you might have been waiting for her to leave, and she was waiting for you to tell her to go. As unhappy as she was, you were safe for her. . . Comfortable, and she had been afraid of stepping outside her comfort zone. . .the both of you, I think," Nancy said softly.

"I got so lucky with Karen," Ted said. "I never would have found someone like her. She's stronger than I ever was."

"Not strong enough to tell you the truth. You both deserve to be with people who are actually in love with you. . .someone appropriate, that is," Nancy said, and Ted laughed.

"Oh God, why am I laughing?" He asked.

"Because sometimes that's the only thing you can do," Nancy said.

"You really believe that there's someone out there for us. . .you don't think it's too late?" Ted asked.

"It's never too late to build something new," Nancy said and placed a paper flower in front of him.

"That's pretty," Ted sniffed.

"Steve helped me and Jonathan make it," she said.

"Steve back in the picture?" Ted asked.

"Yeah, Jonathan still is too," she admitted.

"Something new, huh?" He asked. "They make you happy?"

"Yes," she grinned.

"Good," he said with a smile. "And this is something you know you want?"

"More than anything," she said.

"Okay. . .so, show me how to make these flowers," Ted said.

"Promise me one thing," she said.

"Anything," he swore.

"Everyone in this family has just awful communication skills. . . Promise we'll work on them together?" Nancy asked.

"Promise," he chuckled and paused. "You know, just because we're no longer together, your mother will always be a part of my life even if you don't want her to be. I hope that's okay."

"More than okay. We still want her to be a part of our lives, too," Nancy said softly.

"Good," Ted said and wiped his eyes before putting on his glasses.

They worked in silence as Nancy made another paper flower with her father. She smiled when an idea hit her.

"You know, Claudia Henderson is still single," Nancy grinned.

"Claudia?" Ted asked and paused. "She is cute. . .but I don't know, I never know what might spill out of my mouth. I couldn't do that to her."

"If she can handle Dustin at his worst, then she can handle you," she teased.

"True," Ted said.

"Besides, worst things have come out of Mike's mouth," Nancy pointed out. "I think he gets that from you."

"Well, that's unfortunate," Ted said dryly, and Nancy laughed.

"Plus, Claudia's an animal lover too," Nancy said.

"A boy owns one hedgehog as a kid," Ted said with a shake of his head.

"Please, you know you would have tons of animals if it hadn't been for Mom's allergies," Nancy said.

"Maybe," Ted said, and Nancy laughed. "I just don't think I'm ready for that, Nance."

"Whenever you're ready, I'll support you," Nancy said softly.

A few days went by, and the Wheeler kids were back in their home. Karen had moved out after wearing Ted down. Nancy was awkwardly talking to her mother, but Mike had refused to do so. For him, it was hard, Karen had slept with a man who had hurt his friends. Now that Max was a part of their group, he did it out of loyalty to her, too. Nancy wasn't going to pressure him into talking to her. He would talk to their mother when he was ready for it. Holly didn't know exactly what her mother did, but she knew enough, and like some kids, she was quick to forgive. Nancy wished it was that easy for her and Mike. Meanwhile, the kids were learning more about their father than they ever did, and he was spending less time in that chair. A weight he never knew had been carrying had been lifted off of him. Nancy realized he had always been a good dad. Perfect? Certainly not.

More days passed as June started to turn into July. Word had quickly spread about Karen's affair with Billy, word that Nancy was sure had been spread by the young man himself. Karen had quickly become the town pariah. It was what had started to thaw the ice with Mike, and he had quickly set out to defend their mother even if he was still a bit chilly with her. Meanwhile, Ted had garnered some sympathy with the ladies, and their attention had made him quit uncomfortable. It had amused Nancy and Mike to no end until Ted encroached on his territory.

"No, dad! You can't hide out in the basement!" Mike exclaimed.

"Well, why the hell not?" Ted asked. "I'm just following your example, son."

"Because. . .El's here!" Mike hissed.

Meanwhile, El was giggling at her boyfriend's expense.

"Dustin is right. He is funny," El said.

The doorbell upstairs continued to ring. Ted hid by the stairs.

"Oh God," Ted mumbled, and Mike couldn't help but laugh at him. "It's going to be another goddamn casserole. Why is it always a casserole?"

"You're such a chicken shit, dad," Mike said.

"Hey, you watch your mouth," Ted said. "I mean, you're right, but still. . ."

Ted had eventually put on his big boy pants and told everyone off, leaving a sign on his front door as well. Despite the fact that he and Karen were still getting divorced, both of them were going to therapy together. They wanted some sort of relationship to come out of this even if it wasn't going to be romantic. Because of the kids, they were always going to be connected. Ted was slowly finding that this relationship was becoming better than their other one ever was, even if he was a little sad that it could never be romantic. He was happy that Karen wanted to be a part of his life still, and that was making it easier to let go of their former relationship.

When Nancy wasn't trying to figure out a balance to their new family dynamic, she was spending time working on the paper and spending time with her boyfriends. Ted had casually mentioned that she could invite them over one night for dinner, and Nancy had gladly taken him up on his offer. She enjoyed the look on Mike's face when she told him she was dating both Steve and Jonathan.

"You know, I just realized that Dustin doesn't know about any of this," Mike said.

"He's certainly in for it when he gets back from camp," Steve said and laughed with Mike.

"Too bad Dad's not ready to date. Can you imagine Dustin's expression if he came back and our dad was dating his mom?" Mike snickered.

"Michael," Ted said softly, but he was smiling.

"Sorry, Dad," Mike said, the corners of his mouth turning up.

Nancy watched throughout the dinner as Steve and Jonathan interacted with her family. Steve happily chatted with her dad about sports while Jonathan talked with him about photography and music. Steve also ended up talking with Ted about his love of hedgehogs as well, which surprised Nancy. That was something she hadn't known about Steve. She also didn't know he liked comic books, something that surprised both Mike and Jonathan as well. Of course, Holly had them both wrapped around her finger and dragged them off to play Reporter Princess as she so named the game. It left Mike, Nancy, and Ted to clean up the kitchen.

"I'm proud of both of you," Ted spoke up as they washed dishes. "You're handling all of this so well."

"I could be better," Mike muttered.

"You'll get there when you're ready," Ted said.

"I'm just so angry all of the time," Mike muttered, tears in his eyes.

"Well, that's understandable in a situation like this," Nancy said. "Just don't try to shove it down or pretend that it doesn't exist."

"And when you're ready, talk about it. I'll try my hardest to do my best. This whole talking thing isn't my strong suit either," Ted said awkwardly. "I'm working on it."

Nancy and Mike shared a look. There was one thing that they weren't telling their father. . .the things they wished they could tell. . .if only he knew.

"We're proud of you too, dad," Nancy said sincerely.

A few days later, they were all supposed to go to the fair as a family. . .Ted, Karen, Holly, and Mike. Nancy was going to meet up with them with Steve and Jonathan. It was supposed to be the thing that would slowly begin their healing process, but the other kids never showed up. Ted, Karen, and Holly had waited. They waited some more until finally the time for the fair had ended. Ted and Karen paced, waiting by the phone as Holly drifted off to sleep, blissfully unaware of what was going on. She was also very disappointed that she didn't get to go to the fair. Karen ended up calling the police but the only answer she got was that they were looking into it. Neither one of them got sleep that night. The next morning, both Karen and Ted were watching the news, discovering that Starcourt Mall had burned down.

"Oh God! They were both so mad at me. . .what if they were caught up in the mall. . .what if they can't identify the bodies?!" Karen exclaimed. "They can't be dead. . .I need to make this right, Ted."

"Alright, get your coat. We're going to Starcourt and searching for our goddamn kids," Ted had said.

"What about Holly?" Karen asked.

"We'll drop her off at Claudia's," Ted said.

"Claudia! I didn't think to call her!" Karen exclaimed.

"I don't think any of us were thinking straight last night to call anyone but the police," Ted muttered.

Karen had called Claudia only to find that Dustin was missing too and that she had called the Sinclairs only to find out that Lucas was missing along with Dustin. Karen had hung up and burst into tears. Ted hesitated before putting his arms awkwardly around his soon to be ex-wife.

"It's okay, Karen," Ted said. "We're going to bring them home."

They were just about to walk out the door when the phone rang. Karen had practically dove for it and picked it up. She burst into tears again when she heard her daughter's voice.

"Mommy?" Nancy sobbed.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Nancy and Jonathan were waiting to see their boyfriend. Steve had been admitted almost immediately when they came in, along with Robin. They had both fallen asleep waiting to see him after his wounds had been tended to. Now they were awake, and Nancy was thinking about how Hopper was dead as well as Billy. She hated Billy for everything that he was and everything that he did, but she hadn't wanted him dead even right after she found him in bed with her mother. Her mom. . . She could have been one of the Mind Flayer's victims if Flayed Billy had been able to go after her. She could be dead now, and suddenly, everything was put into perceptive. She wondered if Mike was thinking the same thing. He was currently with El as they looked at her leg, checking to make sure there wasn't any permanent damage. Nancy had called their mother and plopped back down to think. She was so tired.

"Nance?" Jonathan asked and startled her out of her thoughts. "We can go see Steve now."

When did someone stop by to talk to them? Nancy didn't really care. She followed Jonathan to their boyfriend's room. They had both moved as quickly as they could. Jonathan was also injured, and Nancy's body was sore from what they endured. It wasn't really all that fast. They arrived in Steve's room to find him sitting up in bed and looking rather bored. His face lit up at the sight of them. His hazel eyes sparkled, and he smiled so wide that he was showing all of his teeth. Even with his face bruised and beaten, Steve was so unbelievably beautiful and very much alive. Nancy crawled into bed with him and peppered his faces with kisses before pressing her lips to his gently. She straddled Steve’s waist and moved back to let Jonathan lean over Steve to kiss him as well. It was at that moment that Robin came in.

"Can you believe they wanted us in separate rooms? Don't worry, I fixed it. I flashed so many people my ass - woah!" Robin yelled, and Jonathan pulled away quickly. "You left something out."

"Well, Dustin burst in before I could you that I'm still in love with Nancy and also very much in love Jonathan!" Steve exclaimed.

"Well, I guess you're forgiven," Robin said.

Nancy laughed as she slipped off of Steve and the bed.

"Nothing to worry about, I hope?" Nancy asked teasingly.

"You shouldn't, I'm a huge lesbian," Robin said as she plopped onto the empty bed and flashed them a grin. "Not a straight person in this room."

"Well, I don't know about me, but I suppose I never did care about gender," Nancy said thoughtfully.

"Well, even if you were strictly into dudes, you'd still be queer I think, because you're in a relationship that conservatives hellbent on forced conformity would definitely frown against, especially with your boyfriends being in a relationship with each other. So, yeah, even if you only like men, which it sounds like you are open to liking women as well, your relationship is still queer," Robin said as she thought about it. "Although, I'm only familiar with the ways of lesbianism. I am not an all-knowing queer god."

"That would be cool though if you were," Steve said, snapping his fingers at her.

"It would," Robin said.

Nancy was about to ask Robin some questions when her parents and sister came rushing into the room. Nancy moved immediately toward her mother, throwing her arms around her and hugging her tightly. She had never seemed more relieved to see her. Suddenly, what happened didn't seem to matter as much right at this moment. She was just grateful that her mother was alive and she was here.

"Mommy," Nancy sobbed.

As she was hugging her mother, she felt a comforting hand on the back of her head and her father sniffling behind her. Suddenly, she saw Mike run into the room, breathing heavily.

"I thought I saw mom and dad," Mike said.

"Mike," Karen said, relieved to see him.

"I'm sorry, I know I've been an ass . . . " Mike said.

"You had every right to be upset. I'm so sorry for all of it," Karen said softly. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay," Mike said, his voice breaking. "Hopper, he died. He saved us. He saved us, mom."

"Oh honey," Karen said.

Mike was pulled into the hug with Karen and Nancy while Holly wrapped herself around his leg. Ted, as usual, was awkward about hugging, but he put his arms around his family anyway. Family, Nancy thought with a silent laugh. There was no such as a thing as a perfect family. Realistically, families were messy and complicated, but they were also there when you needed them. When you were in a crisis, they were there to drop everything to be someone you could depend on even after they let you down. Maybe things couldn't be the same as they were before, but maybe things would be better now that Ted and Karen were more honest with each other. With her boyfriends there with her and wrapped in the arms of her family, as uncomfortable as it was, Nancy felt like she could get through this. . .could get through anything.

[fruit-salad-ship]

Mafia au really does creep in when I’m painting (decorating house) and honestly? I can’t wait to write the point those girls realise that they’re actually madly in love.

It starts as a fling, just fun, peach is so painfully aware that someone like plum won’t hang around that town for long. It’s no place to find fame, and that’s plums goal. So peach just resigns herself to the thought that while it’s strange someone so prim and proper is paying attention to her, perhaps this singer is simply getting her fix of the rougher sort, perhaps she just was trying out a partner who’s a little meaner visually, a little more dubious morally. Unsure of the specifics, it didn’t matter. The pair continue to see each other, days out, nights in, trips to towns over and stays in hotels that all seem so enjoyable.

And then the truth bomb drops. It’s been a while, perhaps a year or so of them just always being together. They thought they’d get sick of it but they just haven’t, and sure they’ve argued, they’ve had disagreements, it never seems to keep them apart for more than a few hours.

Plum gets in a conversation at the bar, no one knows she’s dating peach, the very person who owns the establishment, they’ve kept this very quiet to avoid prejudice. But someone asks the singer if she’s seeing someone, a longing patreon perhaps rising to the opportunity of talking to her after her set. And plum without thought says yes, she’s very much in love with someone, is taken, is happy. This disappoints the men around her, but peach is pouring a pint for someone, and overhears this. Looks over, just watching her. Plum is none the wiser that she’s been heard, she’s busy enjoying the night. Peach’s pint overflows, she wasn’t looking at what she was doing, lost count of the seconds it takes for that amount of liquid to fill a glass, the distraction too great, grey laughs at her clumsiness, unaware what was just said.

All night peach is completely pulled from work, and before long the last two in the bar are her and Plum, the habitual process of staying late to hang out after cleaning up, and so peach can walk her home safely, they can chat and catch up. But boss is quiet, plum notices it. Asks her whats up, but she’s being cagey, invites her into her apartment, coaxed in by the bad weather and the offer of a hot drink. Peach can’t say no, hasn’t been able to for a long time now.

It comes up, peach mentions she overheard the whole “love” thing, kind of a strong word. This big woman is still convinced plums going to find her fame and leave, and rightly so! She’s talented, peach wants her to chase her dreams and be happy, she knows she has no right to stop her and has been resisting the urge to just follow when plum finally goes, too dedicated and tangled up in the family business to be able to do that. But god she’s tempted.

Plum hears her, hears the expectations of her leaving, hears the open mind to her getting where she needs to go, even hears the undertone of support at every turn, she sees peach is just kind of pushing down the fact that she’s expecting abandonment. That her big tough boss is dare she say it, sulking a little because she’s expecting the worst.

Plum catches peach off with a laugh, puts her hand on the big woman’s thigh and tells her things change. Maybe she use to dream of being some star on the stage, maybe she wanted to live somewhere else, maybe she didn’t expect any of this. But the truth is she’s changed, she wants to stay somewhere she’s loved and respected, in the company of someone she truly has come to adore, way more than anyone else.

They get to talk about some deep seated truths, and while it takes some time to pry that from peach, all plum has to do is ask, say please with those big brown eyes, and she caves. The realisation that they’re both hopelessly devoted to each other, and the worst part that peach hasn’t fully showed her the nature of her work, that this is so desperately what she wants but also she’d be lying if she went into this. But who could say no to plum? She’s just holding her hand like it’s anchoring her to the ground, so peach has to decide: let her in on… the bloody truth, that her and her family have killed many and will continue to do so. OR continue to keep a secret. A big, horrible, difficult secret. Peach can’t do it to her, and swears to figure out a way to tell the truth before things get too serious. Plum will surely leave her when she finds out; but at least she didn’t continue to lie.

The focus point is that they both love each other a lot, now it’s just a case of making this work, or accepting peach will be alone as soon as the truth it out.

Peach is frightened.

Plum is overjoyed.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 26

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 26: Original Prankster (2.7) ~ 11K

Waiting for the day to be over just as soon as it began was excruciating. 

From the moment Roxy woke up, her mind was already on the evening since she and James had made plans to spend some time together to wind down after their busy work week. The band had been so caught up in recording a new song Gustavo had written, “Big Night,” which he only felt was perfect enough to release the previous day after about a week’s worth of producing sessions. 

Not only had that been getting in their way, but Jo and Kendall had a strange face-off with Jett and the New Town High publicist a few days ago. Apparently, the publicist had tried to break up the young couple so the media could think the two show co-stars were together and boost the show’s ratings. Roxy got an earful about it from both Kendall and Jo, then unexpectedly a bit from Jett at the pool the other morning, so her free time to spend with her boyfriend had been filled up by others using her as a space to vent.

It’s not like I never see him… Roxy’s mind wandered as she and the boys finally returned to their apartments after work. They’d technically been together all day at school and Rocque Records, but when she and James split off from Carlos, Kendall, and Logan, her stomach filled with butterflies at the door to 2-H. But this is far different.

   Though he might have thought he was good at hiding his emotions, Roxy could tell James had also been a bit antsy throughout the day, be it from wanting to get out of Mrs. Collins’ boring lecture on chemistry or the relentless five-hour dance practice Gustavo had put him and the band through. In class, she could feel his leg bouncing up and down at the desk beside hers, the rough material of his blacked-out jeans gently scratching against the skin of her calf. Then, at work, he complained far more than usual about Big Time Rush’s strict training schedule and the minute the clock struck six, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the booth where she was testing out a few new melodies. 

To know he wanted to spend time with her just as badly as she wanted to spend time with him sent another bout of fluttering through her chest. 

This is what having a boyfriend is supposed to feel like…

They’d been together almost all of three weeks and not a day had gone by without a similar jittery feeling. James didn’t have to tell her how much he enjoyed being with her, she could just feel it any time they were around each other. His longing glances toward her through the glass in the studio when the band was recording, the eagerness with which his hands would seek out hers when they walked side by side, each and every time they kissed… Everything was just perfect.

Roxy couldn’t be happier. 

Tonight was no exception, even as they popped open the door to 2-J - Mrs. Knight’s rule - and plopped down onto her couch. 

As the writer snuggled into her boyfriend’s side, she picked up the TV remote and turned the device on, absentmindedly scrolling through the guide to pick something to watch. Though, admittedly, if James kept rubbing circles onto her hip with his thumb as they cuddled, she hoped they wouldn’t be watching whatever she picked out for that much longer. 

“Hmm,” The girl sighed, pressing the downward-facing arrow on the remote over and over again until the TV guide landed on the CW channel. “I don’t think I saw this week’s new episode of New Town High… We were too busy in the studio.”

New Town High aired on Wednesday nights, which was awfully inconvenient for the writer considering that was the night Gustavo tended to hold her back after work to get some songwriting in. Between watching her friend’s show or furthering her career, it wasn’t very hard for Roxy to prioritize her job over TV, even if she hated the position her producer put her in. 

Those same nights, Big Time Rush kindly waited around for the pair to finish their work in order to carpool home together, but she knew they secretly enjoyed their free time at Rocque Records. They took advantage of the sweet employee break room Gustavo had set up, filled with comfy couches, a TV, a foosball table, and a small kitchen she and Carlos had accidentally destroyed with a coffee maker their first month in L.A. 

Kendall never missed an episode of New Town High, even if it meant watching Jo’s character, Rachel Blesse, and Jett’s character, Drake Steele, get into a world of supernatural trouble. So, Roxy knew James had likely already seen the episode if Kendall had it on while they waited after work. Whenever her boyfriend was bored, he certainly let her know it, which is exactly what she was banking on to decompress after their long day. 

And, just as she suspected, it took less than five minutes for James to seize his window of opportunity. Gently, he reached up and traced his fingers down the chain of her necklace, slightly grazing her collarbone before leaning in to place a few kisses on her cheek. It was funny sometimes, how predictable he could be, but Roxy loved it all the same as she let him work down her neck while she pretended to watch the show. 

Eventually, though, she found herself twisting around in his arms to bring her lips to his, pushing him back into the couch’s cushions as she leaned further in. She felt him smile beneath her, which made her stomach flip into a fit of somersaults while she ran a hand down his solid chest. 

 In turn, James’ hands made their way from her cheeks down to her hips, dragging Roxy over into his lap as he continued his onslaught of kisses. That little move almost sent his girlfriend into cardiac arrest, weighing the pros and cons of closing the connecting door to 2-J for the evening, before an unexpected honking sound blasted through her speaker system.

The suddenness of the loud noise caused her to jerk a bit on her boyfriend’s thighs before her eyes shot open. Of course, at the most inopportune time, the stupid show she had put on that was supposed to be the background to their evening together created a beautiful set of lyrics weaving through her mind. 

“Shit…” Roxy mumbled against James’ cheek, forehead falling to his shoulder in defeat. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

In an instant, his hands vanished from her body. While she hated it entirely, she was thankful that if something were actually wrong he would be accommodating. 

When she pulled her head from his shoulder, she ran the lyric set through her mind once more to make sure she didn’t lose it, while James sat frozen still under her, hands shot into the air like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t be red-handed. 

It would be nearly impossible to rip herself away from this perfect moment if his eyes kept searching her face for any further explanation, so she let her gaze flit to the kitchen counter behind her. Earlier, she had set her book down there and now it was calling her name as the lyrics kept playing over and over. 

“Um… Everything cool?” James asked her, confused tone making her feel horrible for interrupting their little moment. “If that was too much we don’t have to-”

“Oh!” Roxy felt herself cut him off. “No… No, it’s not that…”

James lowered his hands once he understood he wasn’t the issue. “But?”

He was so kind and patient without even realizing it, helping her work through the tangled mess of thoughts in her brain. 

With a big sigh, Roxy turned again to look at her songbook, “But, uh…”

Her gaze turned back to him again, then to her book, then back to him. 

“Babe?” 

Now another thought raced through her head: Can he feel my heart stop every time he calls me that?

After another deep breath, she managed to put her dilemma into words. “Remember that song I had you write in my book a few months ago? The one in the Pontiac?” 

She watched as his eyes flickered to the upper left, attempting to retrieve an insignificant memory from what felt like forever ago, though eventually, he nodded.

“The sound of the horn it…” Reluctantly she picked her hand up off his chest and circled it a few times, trying to pick out the right way to phrase exactly what she wanted to say. “I’ve got a lyric idea I think I should write down so I don’t lose it but I really, really don’t want to stop.”

After a moment of quiet contemplation, James began to shake with laughter once he understood the situation his girlfriend had found herself in. It caused her to smile a bit too, slightly bouncing as she still sat on top of his legs. 

“Well, lucky for you, I do value my career quite a bit… How about you write your idea down and we can see what happens from there?” 

I have the most understanding boyfriend in the world.

Reluctantly, she gave him one more quick kiss before pulling away, practically running over to her book to expel the words circling around.

Everybody knows what I want ya,

If you want me, baby, show me,

Roll the windows down, let your hair flow,

Let it all go, tonight

And just when she was ready to stand back up and leap back into James’ arms, the notes he had scribbled out for her almost jumped straight off the page. Blur melody… Song 2? What did I mean by that?

Certainly, that needed to be taken care of first, so she dragged herself into her room to grab her guitar and amp to work that out as quickly as possible. 

***

Roxy hadn’t meant to get lost in her writing, but when she felt the couch shift beside her as James stood up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, she noticed the clock on her TV stand’s brilliant blue numbers.

It’s been two hours? 

Looking up from where her nose had been buried in her journal, she watched her boyfriend cross the room and step into her kitchen. He hadn’t said anything at all, which was so incredibly out of character for a guy like James, and an apology for the interruption hardly felt like enough from her for ruining their night together. 

Absentmindedly, she strummed out a few minor chords on her guitar to reflect her agitation with herself for letting the time get away from her. 

From the kitchen, James continued to silently sip his drink, though Roxy could feel his eyes on her as she scanned over the notes she had written down in her journal. Compared to the script James had written the words down with ages ago, her writing was much harder to read; It was easier to figure out exactly what she had wanted out of the verse he had copied down for her than anything she had written out over the past few hours. 

The swooping, bold lines of the pen illuminated his words clearly, even though most of the letters were connected through incredible cursive strokes. Next to it, her chicken scratch looked almost intelligible. 

“Your handwriting is so pretty, James,” felt like an appropriate comment to make at a time like this, though she spoke the words more into the notebook than to her boyfriend as she traced her finger over the first line he had written. “I actually think you’re the only person besides me who’s ever written in one of my songbooks… Isn’t that cool?”

Back before she was writing for Big Time Rush, focusing all her time on trying to write some originals for Brand New Day with Mag and Dani, she never let either of them put anything down on any of her journal’s pages. 

Maybe she liked James a bit more than she had realized, even all the way back then. 

When James didn’t respond, she finally dared to glance his way to find him making his way back over to the couch with the glass in hand. Making sure to set it down far away from her book and amp, the long-haired boy fell down right next to her on the couch and gave her a small peck on the cheek. 

What Roxy didn’t realize was this kiss was simply a distraction; James had swiped her red pen off the table. Then, while she was busy swatting him away and telling him she needed to focus, he caught her journal as well, jumping up and running back over to the other side of her apartment. 

She was barely able to shout out a small, “Hey!” and untangle herself from the guitar strap slung around her shoulder to chase after him, watching as he flipped to the very last page of her songbook and scribbled out a message. 

By the time she had made it over to him, the damage had been done. More of his gorgeous handwriting had graced the pages of her book, so could she really be all that mad? It’s not like she didn’t mind him touching it, but the thought of him reading some of her journal entries from before they were together…  Yikes.

Shutting the pages with a crisp snap once she stood across from him, James held the book and pen far above his head, blocking out some of the soft rays from her kitchen lights. Now she’d certainly never get it back if he wanted to play that game.

Why do I like tall guys again?

Last resort, Roxy batted her eyelashes a few times, glancing down at her shoes before looking back up at her boyfriend with a pretend pout. That had worked last week when she had convinced him to buy her some ice cream after work, but this time, he let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, continuing to hold the book up. 

He’s becoming immune…

Now on her tip-toes, Roxy let out a few more unkind words of protest as she reached up to try and grab his arm, but it was no use. James was too busy laughing at her feeble attempt, waving the book around whenever she came close.

“I’m gonna need a little more than that, babe…” He shared, followed by a loud, exaggerated kissing noise. 

With a huff, “Jerk,” she gently reached out to cup his cheek, pulling him down into her to give him exactly what he had asked for. 

When James didn’t immediately hand the book back to her, probably too busy trying to figure out if he could con more kisses out of her, Roxy impatiently crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the tile, waiting for him to return it. 

Then, the moment the book was back in her hands after their little exchange, Roxy hurriedly flipped to the back, oddly excited to discover just what he felt the need to add to her blank sheets. 

Right in the middle of the last page, the bright red ink of her favorite pen jumped out at her, and James’ scrawl elegantly addressed her:

Songbird - Don’t ever stop writing songs about me.

Within seconds, Roxy recognized the faint heat creeping up the back of her neck, quickly shutting the journal and sending the cover flying into James’ arm. “That’s not a lyric idea!”

“It can be if you work a little bit of your writer magic,” He teased, running a few fingers down her arm before grabbing her free hand and bringing her back over to the couch so she could continue to work.

“Bold of you to assume this one’s about you,” Roxy shot back, adding in just a dash of side-eye. The first verse she had written months ago hadn’t been, but this new one… It was tough for her to write a romantic song and not think about James. “But, no, I don’t ever plan to stop.”

Now it was her turn to render him speechless, basking in the way she had caught him off guard before they reached the couch to cuddle a bit more before he had to head back to 2-J for the night. 

Roxy had earned a kiss on the head from her boyfriend at her words before he let her go to place her guitar and amp back into her room, inspiring one more short line for her new song.

You drive me crazy, but you know that

“Hey,” She thought aloud, once she had finished writing her new idea down. “Wanna have a picnic before work tomorrow to make up for the time we missed out on tonight?” 

James’ reply was immediate, though a bit garbled as he called from her bedroom. “Sounds fun! It’s been a while since we hung out in the park.”

While Roxy had been thinking about doing it at the pool, his suggestion to have it at the park instead was more than stellar. Her mind was already racing with all the cute little finger foods she could put together with the contents of her fridge and she was pretty sure she had a checkered blanket tucked somewhere in her closet.

By the time James had reemerged, he was about to add something else to his previous statement, but Mrs. Knight called his name from down the hallway. 

Curse his stupid curfew!

Not that he’d had one before they started dating, so she did bear some responsibility, but it had certainly put a damper on their planning for the next morning.

“I’ll text you in a bit, okay?” He said, glancing at the connecting door of their apartments. It was never a good idea to keep Jennifer Knight waiting. “Thanks for tonight, babe. See you in the morning.”

As he kissed her, she let out a soft, “Goodnight,” and just like that he was gone. 

For a moment, she wondered if James’ parents would be more lenient about their relationship if they were still living in Minnesota. He’d mentioned his dad once or twice, so she didn’t know how strict he would be and the only thing she knew about his mother was that she was very protective of who her son dated. 

Am I the kind of girl you take home to your parents?

Dak Zevon certainly hadn’t thought so, but then again, he hadn’t thought that much of her at all. 

Once Roxy relished in that painful thought for a moment, she trudged into her room to get ready to go to bed, one resounding thought standing out in her mind. 

James Diamond is the kind of boy you take home to your parents.

He was funny, sweet, and ever so handsome, with a special sort of boy-next-door charm which meant moms probably went just as crazy over him as their children did. Dads on the other hand…

Shutting the lights off, Roxy managed to crawl into bed, fingers trailing over the necklace her father had given her for her birthday and heart skipping a nervous beat when she realized, I still need to tell Dad we’re dating.

***

The following day, James and Roxy’s picnic date had been just what the two needed. 

Warm Los Angeles sun raining down on them, delicious food, the outdoorsy atmosphere of the park - Everything was exactly as it should have been, right down to Roxy glancing over to her date, finding herself nearly getting lost in his hazel eyes when she leaned into him and vaguely shared, “For dessert, I thought we could…” Of course, James knew exactly what his girlfriend was insinuating, moving toward her as well before his phone’s text tone went off. 

While Roxy thought nothing of this, continuing her motion, her lips ended up falling onto his soft cheek as he mumbled out, “Maybe next time.”

That sent her heart sinking straight into her stomach as she watched James hop up from the blanket and sprint off toward the hotel. Next time? 

From the other side of the green park field, she noticed another speeding figure, Logan judging from the lab coat he was wearing, making the same beeline for the Palm Woods. 

“It’s time! It’s time, James!” He screamed, nearly catching up to his long-haired friend, knocking over her basket beside Roxy with his feet and completely stepping over the plates she had prepared for the picnic. 

Lap now covered in vegetables, she thought about catching his leg to trip him, but settled on, “What the hell, Logan?” as her friend grew farther and farther away. 

No explanation from either of them, though it was something they were clearly in on together, Roxy couldn’t help but grow just a bit annoyed at her boyfriend. Did she deserve to be so easily tossed to the side? Maybe after her actions last night. But James not even wanting to kiss her? That was a whole new level of worry settling in her chest. 

Slowly, Roxy picked the carrots and celery from her jeans, thoughts flickering back to what Logan had told her about James’ last serious relationship. One month. And for us… It’s been three weeks.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but she was panicking just slightly. 

At the very least, she’d have to take the boys to work in about an hour, so she could probably do some sleuthing then. However, if it was something the rest of the boys knew about and something James didn’t want to talk about, she wondered if Logan would share it with her. Since she was still fighting with Camille, in the event of a worst-case scenario, she’d need all the support she could get from him.

Placing the plates the studious boy had crushed when he had trampled her nice spread down into the picnic basket, Roxy tried to push the thought out of her mind. Just because she was shaken up after her last relationship had put her through the wringer didn’t mean she needed to be worried about this one. She trusted James, completely and the course of their relationship was, so far, out of this world. She had nothing to worry about except quieting the doubts clouding her mind. 

I don’t write during our time together too often… Right?

Buzz buzz

A text message from Kelly caused Roxy’s phone to vibrate in her back pocket.

K: No need to worry abt work 2day

K: Time off 4 u n the guys

K: Njoy!

What that was all about, the assistant had no idea despite remembering leaving Rocque Records yesterday with so many points written down on her boss’ to-do list. Roxy, however, wasn’t interested in arguing with Kelly. Any days off were appreciated, and now she could spend some time in the park to herself, connecting with nature to clear her mind while her boyfriend was off doing who knows what. 

Just as she had given up piling everything into the large picnic basket beside her, Roxy let her back hit the blanket, staring up at the smoggy California sky. There were a few puffy clouds, nothing big enough to block the sun, and a handful of birds making their way through the open space. 

She nearly felt comfortable enough to nap, and that could certainly quell the anxiety pounding through her body, but she heard someone call her name, pulling her out of her relaxed state.

“Katie?” Roxy said, shooting up into a sitting position. 

From the path a few feet away, the young Knight was storming over to the writer, face scrunched up in anger. “Your boyfriend is being a misogynistic jerkwad! Fix him!”

In response, the teen blew out a large huff of air. “He’s what? Have you tried talking to your brother about it? He’d definitely be willing to kick some sense into James.”

“I can’t!” The girl replied, reaching for Roxy’s hand and tugging at it to pull her to her feet. “Kendall is the king of the misogynistic jerkwads.”

Forgetting how freakishly strong Katie was, Roxy was easily hauled to her feet and was now being guided toward the Palm Woods. “Um, I’m going to need some background here, Katie.”

“We need reinforcements.”

“Like?”

“You know who.”

Now that they were cutting into the hotel’s back staircase, Roxy was able to dig her heels into the ground at the statement, fighting back as best she could against her friend’s kung-fu grip. “I can’t see her right now!”

“You can, and you will,” Katie affirmed, ascending the stairs to the second floor, not letting go of the writer. “We’ll pick up Jo first if it makes you feel better, but we need Camille. She’s the only one who can get through to Logan!”

Instead of fighting back against the stubborn young girl as she continued to drag her up the stairs, Roxy chose to focus instead on Katie’s hot pink watch as it circled her tiny wrist. She and Kendall were more alike than the two chose to admit, down to their flannel fashion choices and digital timepieces. If she needed help taking on her brother, Roxy would be a bad friend not to help her out. 

With a sigh, the assistant finally relented. “Fine. Only because I care about you and I hate that the boys have you this worked up. But if Camille utters one word about James I'm out.”

“Deal.” Katie agreed before the pair collected both Jo and Camille from their apartments.

The rundown she gave the three of them was quite convoluted, and she was very emotional about the entire situation which made it that much harder to understand. Though, eventually, the teens caught on to what she was saying. Admittedly, it was hard for Roxy to concentrate, standing so close to Camille and all, but for now, she tried to put aside their argument for the sake of the greater good.

As their young friend explained, the boys had invented a game in middle school in which they would launch into an intense prank battle one day out of the year to win a giant crown they had constructed in one of their art classes. Not only did the four of them take the game incredibly seriously - which now explained why James had run away from her so easily earlier - but they had an entire book chock full of rules to ensure everyone played fairly titled Lord Prankerton’s Book of Rule. 

Rule number one: If ye is pranked, ye is out. The last man to go unpranked becomes Lord High King and wins the crown. 

Rule number two: No girl shall play.

At this point, Katie had listed off every single rule in the book and completely lost the other girls, but the sentiment remained the same. Big Time Rush didn’t think girls were as good at pranking as guys were - A fact that would soon be remedied by all the schemes cooking up in Roxy’s head.

While she was no prankster herself, her father had been the exact same age the band currently was when he began raising her. She knew the ins and outs of whoopie cushions, fake vomit, and plastic spiders all because she had been subjected to it while she and her dad were growing up together. 

If the boys wanted to be boys, that was fine with her, they would just have to be cool fighting fire with fire. 

Once Katie’s long-winded explanation had finished, she determinedly shot off toward the lobby and almost left her companions in the dust. 

The three girls stood awkwardly on the fourth-floor landing, all-knowing every bit of the drama unfolding between Roxy and Camille.

Well, this is uncomfortable.

“Look, Roxy, I’m-” The ravenette tried, reaching a hand out toward the songwriter.

“We better follow her,” Roxy cut Camille off, wanting to solve one problem at a time today. 

Glancing between her two friends, Jo elected not to jump in at this time. Being caught in the crossfire alone was scary, but if she took one of their sides right now, that would only end in a bigger friendship blowout. 

Without waiting for a reply, Roxy trailed after Katie, not bothering to see if either of them would join her while she pulled out her phone to text the other girls at the Palm Woods for backup. She had already experienced enough anxiety for the day, she didn’t need Camille making it any worse.

Just as they reached Katie at the front desk, the assistant noticed Kendall, James and someone in a bear costume enter the front doors. The three were commenting on each other's items - Kendall, a pillow and a bottle of honey, James, 6 cartons of eggs and 24 rolls of toilet paper, and again, the bear, voice sounding very much like Carlos’. 

“What’s this about girls not being good at pranks?” The girls new to the game chorused in sync, not even planning such a powerful opening line. 

It certainly caught the boys off guard, stopping them in their tracks. 

“Never said that!” Kendall fought back, tone slightly cautionary. “I just said it could get ugly and girls could get hurt.”

“So you’re saying girls aren’t as tough as guys?” Three new voices asked - The Jennifers inserting themselves into their conversation. 

I love that they’re always on their phones…

“Kendall, you’ve hit me over the head with a metal horseshoe. I fell down a well and had a concussion for three weeks.” His assistant fought right back, feeling the presence of the Jennifers boost her confidence as the girl’s numbers grew. 

While she spoke, James gave her a sorrowful smile, waiting for her to finish before asking, “Babe, have you seen the bear standing next to me? This competition gets scary.”

Roaring the most obviously fake roar any person in a bear suit had ever managed, Carlos attempted to frighten the girls in front of him to no avail. 

“Sounds to me like you guys are scared of getting your butts beat by a bunch of girls,” Camille bit, taunting their opponents just a bit. 

They were already playing the game, the boys just didn’t know it yet. 

With a snap of her fingers, Camille summoned the rest of the girls in their class to her side, proving the power of strength in numbers. 

Thank goodness I had everyone's numbers saved from sending out the dance invite.

That move certainly intimidated the boys, causing Carlos to tear off the bear's head and cry, “What? Eleven against four? Yeah, that’s fair.”

“We’re in!”

An unexpected amount of other male individuals from their class had now joined the conversation as well, which, to the best of Roxy’s knowledge was unplanned. It looked like this was turning from a prank battle into an all-out prank war. 

Quickly, James counted out all the newcomers who were planning to aid their cause, announcing they were still one short.

And of course, at just the right time, Jett Stetson swooped in to save the day with a curt, “I’m in too.”

He and Kendall shared a look akin to the ones Roxy was sharing with Camille at the moment, but his presence made it a fair game, so the blond had no room to argue. 

“So be it!” Kendall declared in a poor, but funny attempt at an old English accent, “As reigning Sir High King Lord of the Pranks, I now declare this a megapranketition!”

The opposite team had been so distracted in figuring out their numbers, that none of them noticed Katie duck away from Roxy’s side and tie three of the newcomer’s shoelaces together. 

The boys won’t even know what hit them…

***

Thirty minutes into the competition, Roxy hated to admit it, but her friends had been right, things were getting ugly.

Reportedly, Logan had already pranked himself before the game even began, but the girls weren’t sure if the band had been lying to them to keep them off their tails.

Then, all three of the Jennifers were taken out with ��free chapstick samples” which turned out to be glue sticks with fake labels. This left an uneven playing field, so each of the sides needed to do everything they could in order to get ahead. 

Many attempts had been made, cans of silly string emptied, and plenty of balloons blown up just to be popped seconds later, but nothing seemed to be working for anyone. 

Katie, Camille, Jo, and Roxy had been laying low, leaving plenty of handcrafted glitter bombs and rubber snakes around the hotel without capturing any victims, until Guitar Dude hopped out of one of the planters in the lobby. He had wanted to scare them with a terrible song about pranks, but, in turn, Camille had smashed Guitar Dude’s guitar over his head thanks to a move she learned when trying out for the part of a rockstar’s girlfriend. 

Does a song even count as a prank?

Now, the girls were back on top, and Roxy still had so many Oreos with the filling scraped out and replaced with toothpaste to offer up to anyone passing by, she was starting to forget about all the anxiety from the morning. 

She only felt it spike again when Katie dragged them up to the second floor to show off something she had been working on in anticipation of this year’s day of pranks - A little thing she dubbed the Pie-A-Pult.

By itself, the large metal contraption was insane. The mess of silver poles, duct tape, and wheels was quite a sight, but once Jo and Katie placed the large pie crust filled with lemon meringue on the end, Roxy decided she was staying as far away from the machine as possible. It just felt like bad news; Nothing she needed to involve herself with this early in the game. 

Since it was so large, they were having trouble getting it from Katie’s room to the hallway, even with the four of them working together. 

As they pushed, Katie explained her master plan. 

Well, kind of. 

The four had caught onto Kendall, Carlos, and James following them around for some time now. So, really, the words they were saying were all a guise for their real trap: Emotional manipulation.

Katie had baited their trap, starting off with, “The guys get off the elevator to rush to the apartment for shelter, they’ll trip on the wire Jo set up and get a face-full of creamy defeat!”

Still holding some of the clear fishing line she had swiped from her dad, Jo held her hand out for a high five, which Katie eagerly returned. 

There was almost something poetic about two of the most important girls in Kendall’s life teaming up to take him and his friends out; Roxy was so ecstatic to be a part of it. 

Normally, when she played team games when she was younger like tag or soccer at recess, she was always so caught up in making sure she was doing the very best she could so her teammates wouldn’t think she was pulling them down. That contributed to the lack of fun she had, but now, she felt like she was on top of the world working with her best friends.

Maybe, when this is all over, it’s time I had that talk with Camille…

“Boys are stupid!” The actress giggled, adding a bit of emphasis on that last part to rile the three up even further. 

With a wicked smile, Roxy did her best not to look in the direction in which the girls knew they were sneaking up on them, “Now all we have to do is hide and watch the show.”

What the boys didn’t know, was that Camille had graciously volunteered to sacrifice herself for the good of her team. 

Predictably, they just knew the band would rely on scare tactics to take the girls out, considering they had preached over and over about not wanting anyone to get hurt. When they inevitably jumped out, Camille would pretend to trip the wire, get blasted with the delicious pie filling, then use her glorious acting skills to fake cry and lead the boys to the park where a massive girl ambush was waiting. 

Once Roxy had finished speaking, she paused to give the boys time to formulate their counter-plan and thought about how Camille had selflessly agreed to take one for the team. When her eyes flickered over to the actress, Camille winked, right as the four heard a chorus of “Boo!” from behind them.

Pretending to be startled, the girls let out some particularly ear-splitting fake screams, and Camille - Queen of acting cues - stumbled backward onto the line Jo had set. 

In a breathtaking arc of delicious, homemade perfection, the pie launched into her, resulting in a sticky, lemony mess mixing in with Camille’s hair, makeup, and clothes. 

For the boys, they deemed this to be a moment of celebration, for the girls, they faked shock and despair while waiting for the real prank to begin. 

Loud, obnoxious sobs mixed into the other team’s cheers, drawing out any chance they had to praise each other for a job well done before Camille took off running down the hall to lure the boys into the trap the other girls were setting up at the park. 

That, paired with two fake-upset girlfriends and one fake-upset little sister was enough to pull at James and Kendall’s heartstrings. 

Roxy did feel slightly bad for crossing her arms as she stared her boyfriend down, watching as his eyes widened in shock once he registered her feelings. But, she reminded herself, all is fair in love and war.

“We told you that pranking was dangerous!” Carlos told them, sensing the mood shift in the hallway and seemingly unaffected by the dirty looks from his friends in front of him. 

“Well, does your Lord Prankerton say you’re not allowed to make sure someone is okay?” Jo snapped back, tone of voice rising with each word out of her mouth. 

She is one hell of a convincing actress.

The three boys glanced at each other before James sighed, “No… He does. It’s called the Logan Amendment.”

“Time to put that to good use then, James,” Roxy warned, trying to copy Jo’s acting technique.

“Let’s go!” Kendall finished before Katie could cut in with her own comments, tossing an upset gesture toward the hallway Camille had run down. James and Carlos were simply at his mercy, following the frontman in the direction in which he was rushing. 

At that moment, however, Roxy had forgotten all the progress she had slowly been building back up with Camille that day. Despite her great plan for the victory of the girl’s team, Roxy still had to watch her boyfriend hurry down the hallway, concern gracing his handsome features, toward the girl he had kissed three weeks ago. 

Sure, they were friends and Roxy knew that, but did Camille need three people to go check up on her? Wouldn’t Carlos and Kendall do? 

Jealousy knotted her stomach at the thought of James and Camille being anywhere around each other right now - Especially because Camille and Roxy hadn’t spoken about the kiss at all. 

But, even that made Roxy feel terrible. She didn’t control James, and she certainly wasn’t going to dictate who he was allowed to hang around or talk to. Considering that exact same thing had happened to her in her last relationship, she knew what it was like to be on the opposite side of that kind of jealousy. 

The thought of being anything like Dak makes me feel sick…

“Roxy! Aren’t you coming?”

Jo’s voice snapped the writer out of her head, though the nauseous feeling creeping up her throat remained. 

It was hard to swallow the bitter bile back down with a smile, but the writer did her very best, “Yeah, of course, I’ll meet you at the park in a second.”

The two remaining girls nodded before running down the pie-soaked path Camille had made through the hotel to meet the rest of their team. 

But, even the sight of her friends dashing off in pursuit of prankdom glory didn’t inspire the writer to move an inch; She was too busy trying to tackle her nausea and the dark little voices in the back of her head telling her James was getting bored of her, just like Dak had. 

“No, no, no,” Roxy whispered, hoping that saying the words out loud might help combat the negative thoughts swirling around her brain. 

Slinging her black mini backpack off her back and setting it down in the middle of the hallway, the writer hastily sunk to her knees before digging through the contents of her bag. 

James ran after Camille because he’s a good, loyal, caring friend. That’s part of the reason I like him. 

She pushed past her wallet, keys, Rocque Records ID badge… Just how much stuff did she have in here?

He’s not bored of me, he just ran off from our picnic because he was excited about the competition.

At long last, her hands brushed the familiar, cool leather of her songbook and practically ripped it out of the pouch.

I will not let my unwarranted anxieties and jealousy get in the way of our relationship. 

While it was easier said than done, as Roxy flipped to the back page to read the message her boyfriend had written to her last night she finally found a little bit of peace. Eight little words. That was all she needed for now; proof everything was going to be just fine between them. 

Someone cleared their throat behind her and when the girl turned, she saw a sharp-dressed businessman paused in the middle of the path she was blocking, eyes wandering around the mess she had made of the hallway with the Pie-A-Pault. 

With a sheepish smile, Roxy shot back up to her feet, pulling her bag with her. “Be sure to watch your step… And maybe not mention this to Bitters if you don’t mind?”

The look he shot her told her that was quite a mighty request, yet the man said nothing and continued on his way. 

It didn’t take the writer much longer to scoop up the pie tin laying on the floor a few inches away from where it smacked Camille, careful not to get any of the meringue on herself in case anyone thought she was pranked as well, and shoot off toward the park. The remaining girls on their team were all hiding in different spots around the grassy area to ambush the boys after the actress’ fake crying led them right into the heart of their trap. Roxy was supposed to cover the north exit closest to the hotel; hopefully, she would arrive just in time to see Carlos, James, and Kendall’s defeat. 

When her legs traveled as fast as they possibly could, landing her directly in the spot her friends had asked her to stand, Roxy came upon a very different scene from what she had been imagining. 

By now, she figured at least one of the three of them would be out of the game, but Jo, Camille, and Katie had cornered the boys into the center of the park. All around them, their female classmates circled like hungry vultures, though remained a safe distance away in case the boys had any tricks left up their sleeves. 

Big Time Rush were pleading for their lives, steps away from getting on their hands and knees and begging the girls to spare them. That’s certainly a side of them I’ve never seen before.

“They look so cute when all hope is lost!” Jo mused, turning to her friends with a Knight-like smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

Though that was a slightly scary statement coming from the blonde, Roxy couldn’t help but agree. Victory was so close the girls could almost taste it. 

Her band helplessly huddled together, linking their arms to form an indestructible chain as they stood back to back, ensuring no one could be taken out from behind. That little move didn’t do them much good, however, considering their opponents had them surrounded on all sides. 

“Ready, aim…” Katie directed, handing the prank rule book off to Camille as she stared her brother down. The beat of silence hung in the air for a moment, it seemed as though all movement in the park had ceased, while everyone waited for her final command. 

A command that never came, as Gustavo Rocque came barreling into the open space to yell at three-fourths of Big Time Rush. Under one arm he had Kelly’s leather ledger tucked away, while the other was furiously trying away on her Blackberry. “Dawgs! I’m Kelly today - long story - So… Studio, now!”

Studio?

“Human shield!” The boys chorused upon seeing their boss. That was certainly a new turn none of the girls had been expecting. 

Katie’s final call of “Fire!” echoed throughout the park, just as the boys pulled Gustavo in front of them, turning him every which way as their producer took the full force of the lemon meringue pie barrage. 

While his screams were normally legendary, the small yelps and shrieks the producer let out with every hit from a brand-new pie almost made Roxy pity him. She certainly thought he deserved a fraction of this assault after the way he usually treated the boys, but it was jarring to watch as hit after hit after hit landed, leaving Gustavo’s top half completely covered in the yellow, whipped mess. 

I hate to think of what would happen if Kelly had shown up.

That thought was enough to make Roxy keep hold of her pie, and of course, the prospect of still having a job tomorrow morning if she didn’t throw something at her boss. 

Unfortunately for her and the rest of the girls, the producer-turned-human-shield had kept the boys perfectly safe. There wasn’t even a lick of cream covering any parts of their bodies as they shoved the man to the side once they were a safe distance away. With a few winks and waves, the boys wasted no time sprinting back to the Palm Woods to continue their hijinks, no doubt off to set a whole new wave of traps to look out for.

“We were so close!” Roxy cried, though she did attempt to place the pie tin behind her back so none of the other girls would notice she didn’t throw it. “How can we get them to congregate like that again?”

She had a few ideas to bring up to her classmates to try and get the boys out of the game once more, but she felt the tin be ripped from her hands by someone behind her.

“Roxy!” Camille shouted, alerting the writer to the danger of whoever stood behind her. “Run!”

In a flash, the girl took Camille’s advice, nearly twisting her ankle on the wet grass in the process. While it had helped her in a pinch, Roxy certainly wasn’t going to be able to outrun the pie she saw flying towards her when she checked over her shoulder. A splash of red hair filled her field of vision when she glanced upward, Tyler playing for the boys, letting out an evil laugh. 

Just as Roxy thought she was done for, she whipped her head back around to find Camille in front of her, “Move!”

Wordlessly, the actress reached both her hands out and grabbed Roxy’s arm before roughly yanking her to the right. Though, thanks to her unsteady balance, Roxy managed to stumble, sending her right into the grass below.

She felt everyone's eyes on her, much like getting an idea for the song in the studio and having the entire band watch her write, as the stinging feeling in the palms and knees she had used to break her fall subsided.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Roxy asked once she realized the pie hadn’t hit her at all, lifting her head to look at her assailant as she weakly pointed in his direction, “Get him!”

Everyone took off after the young boy, a few still toting extra pie trays around to use as their weapons, save the one girl who was no longer in the game. 

Slowly, Camille squatted down to help Roxy off the ground with shaking hands. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to pull that hard I swear!”

The panicked way in which she spoke rang in the writer’s ears. They were still on bad terms since she had kissed James, but Roxy certainly didn’t want Camille to be afraid to talk to her. Just the notion of someone she cared so much about fearing her… 

Shaking the thought out of her head, Roxy accepted the help with no push back even if it left her alone in the park with someone she had been trying to avoid for weeks. “Don’t worry about it. I know you were just trying to help.”

Once the girl was back up on her feet, with no sign of other pranksters in her line of vision, she faced her friend, watching as the slow breeze blew some loose curls over Camille’s shoulder. There was no question after the alarm in the actress’ voice, Camille had been hurting just as much as Roxy was - Something the girl had failed to consider altogether, too wrapped up in her own feelings. 

Eyes slightly glancing downward, Camille bit the inside of her cheek before asking, “Can we just-” but stopped in the middle of her statement to shake her head. “Never mind.”

There was a beat of silence before Roxy cleared her throat, feeling her chest tighten before saying, “No, it’s alright. Go ahead.”

Around them, the park activities had gone back to normal. Couples on walks, kids flying kites, moms gossiping under the shade from the large trees… All was as it should be, except for the two girls struggling to find the right words to even speak with each other after their first real fight as friends. 

Camille’s brows shot to her forehead like she hadn’t expected Roxy to give her the time of day, but the writer kept her mouth shut, needing to hear just what the other girl wanted to say to her.

“There aren’t even words to begin to tell you how sorry I am for what happened,” Camille settled on, though Roxy found it tough to concentrate on her words with her friend’s top half completely covered in pie. 

The day Camille had kissed James, Roxy had felt a pain secondary only to her first heartbreak. However, she had masked it quite well, focusing on confronting Camille on what she had done to Logan and not how it had damaged their own friendship. 

“I’ve played hundreds of different characters, memorized their lines from hundreds of different situations but nothing I can come up with is remotely close to the apology you deserve.”

It had taken James and Logan hours to make up after the entire ordeal, which was crazy to Roxy, but their bond was nearly unbreakable. She felt the same about her bond with Camille but had been far too stubborn in admitting her feelings to herself; They had let this fight drag on for far too long. 

“I’ve lost Logan’s trust, his friendship…” Her voice broke as she brought the heel of her palm to her tearful eyes. “And, Roxy, I’m terrified of losing ours.”

The writer felt her bottom lip quiver. “Do you know how much it hurt to find out my best friend kissed the guy I had been into for months and didn’t even have the guts to tell me to my face? You sent James instead!”

“Yeah, but Katie-”

“If it hadn’t been for Katie, I suspect you might not have told me at all, Camille.” Voicing feelings Roxy could barely admit to herself was beginning to feel cathartic and she made a mental note to take Katie out for ice cream later once the whole prank ordeal was finished. “I miss feeling like I could share anything with you and seeking you out first in a room full of people and texting you every single day, but that doesn’t change what happened.”

At her friend’s confession, Camille took a few steps forward and crushed Roxy in an unexpected hug. She was shaking, the writer could feel the tremors throughout her body, but Roxy instinctually wrapped her arms around Camille’s waist anyway, lemon meringue be damned. Even if her words had been harsh and they were the truth about how she had been feeling, that didn’t warrant Camille to be in such pain either. 

“I’ve been a terrible friend, Rox, you don’t deserve that,” She whispered into Roxy’s shoulder, continuing to hold her. 

Since her emotions had been flowing freely through her words, it was no surprise to the assistant when she muttered, “I don’t… But you don’t deserve a terrible friend either. I’m sorry I didn’t come to check on you after your breakup. We should have gone through that together.”

 To Roxy’s surprise, Camille stopped shaking for a moment, then laughed her beautiful laugh right into the girl’s ear. “I’m trying to apologize to you, don’t turn the table!”

“But it’s true,” Roxy defended, feeling a bit of the actress’ contagious smile creep onto her face. “I’ve spent too much time mulling over and hiding my own emotions, I neglected to think about yours.”

“So where does that leave us?”

Camille’s question was earnest, raw, and almost pleading, pulling her cheek off her friend’s shoulder as she anxiously awaited her response. 

Taking a deep breath, the writer basked in the citrusy scent of the filling now staining her top. “Hopefully ready to put this all behind us, as long as we promise to always stay honest with each other going forward.”

It didn’t take long for Camille to raise her right hand, sticking her pinky out toward her best friend. “Promise!”

After Roxy locked their fingers together, it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from off her chest. Camille was integral to her journey in Los Angeles, and the only thing more painful than the mess they had been through was the absence of her best friend in her daily life. 

“Are you free tonight?” Roxy asked, excitedly bouncing up and down on her heels now that they had talked through their issues. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Eee!” Her friend squealed back, breaking their hug only to grab Roxy’s hand and lead her back toward the Palm Woods. “Finally! I’ve been dying to catch up. Let me check with my dad and see if you and Jo can sleep over tonight. I’m thinking pizza, PopTiger poster clipping, and I just got my hands on the new Tuesday the 17th.”

“The one starring Jacksen Paradeki? Oh, my God, Camille, I’m so in love with him-”

Shhhhh!

Roxy stopped dead in her tracks, smile fading from her lips as a cold, slimy substance connected with the meringue covering the front of her chest, mixing with the already uncomfortable fabric of her shirt. 

In front of the two girls stood Katie Knight, bandana strapped over her little forehead and thick streaks of eye-black staining her cheeks, wielding two aerosol cans full of neon silly string. 

“What was that for?!!” The writer questioned, looking over her shoulder to see if Kendall, James, or Carlos was sneaking up on her and Katie had misfired. “I’m out! How are we supposed to get the guys now?”

As she tried to wipe the sticky mixture off of her clothing, Roxy slowly realized: Katie doesn’t make mistakes.

Flipping one of the cans and blowing on the nozzle as if she were in an old Western movie, Katie tucked them into her back pockets, offering nothing beyond, “You forget this isn’t a team game... I will be Lord High King of the Pranks!” before running off to destroy her next target. 

“Jo!” Camille cried, remembering the other part of their trio as she watched the young girl scurry off, before grabbing her phone. “We left her all alone with that little traitor…”

Buzz buzz

The pair shared a look of dismay at the text tones on both of their devices going off at once. 

J: Sandy, Mandy, Aino, and Priya are out. 

J: That leaves Roxy, Katie, and me now.

C: might want to think again

R: I’m out too

R: WATCH OUT FOR KATIE!!!!

C: she betrayed us!

While there were no messages from Jo for quite some time after, it did allow Roxy and Camille enough of a break to head up to their apartments and rid themselves of prank remnants. 

Just as Roxy was throwing her possibly ruined clothes in the wash, her phone went off again and she jumped at the opportunity to read the quickly incoming messages.

J: I’m out! UGH!!

C: katie get you too? or one of the boys?

R: That girl can be so nasty.

R: I respect the dedication tho

J: NO! By BITTERS!

R: My bad. Got some dude in the hotel involved with one of our pranks accidentally

R: Snitch

J: Buttt, Carlos and James are out too. It’s just Kendall, Katie, and Bitters left. 

R: Sooo unfair! I didn’t know Bitters was playing. 

R: But that might have been good for him, I had some nasty stuff planned

C: like what lol? 

R: Secret. Might need to use them next year ;P

J: You two might want to head down to the lobby… I think the final showdown is gonna happen there

J: Also, Roxy, James is looking for you. Looks like he needs some cheering up

C: awww, too cute

R: Thanks! Be down asap

Just the prospect of seeing her boyfriend after about an hour apart thrilled her, as silly as that was. After all the drama and emotions swirling around inside her mind today, all she wanted was a great big hug and some comforting words from James. 

She practically bounced down the stairs, feeling much better after untangling the pie filling and silly string from her hair and changing into a new outfit, to find most of her friends gathered around the Palm Woods lobby waiting for the competition to be over. It appeared that most of the folks who had gotten out early on were gathered in the back of the lobby though Jett, Tyler, and Guitar Dude filled some of the spots up front. From the girl’s side, the Jennifers and Camille were huddled together, whispering about something she couldn’t hear. Beside them were Carlos and James, covered head to toe in silly string, suggesting they had succumbed to the same fate as their assistant at the hands of the cunning Katie Knight. 

Attempting to pick some of the sticky pink and yellow string out of his clothing, James had his eyes cast toward the floor. The slight pout on his lips almost made him look just like a fashion model and a faint bit of electricity buzzed down Roxy’s back as she walked over to him. 

Without saying anything, she simply helped him brush all of the string to the floor - Bitters could worry about that later if he wanted to be a surprise player - before settling down in his lap.

All the other seats are taken… Where else would I sit? She thought, ignoring the way Camille glanced her way and waggled her eyebrows. 

“I’m sorry about the crown,” She told him, draping one of her arms around his shoulders. “But now you’ve got a whole year to plan your revenge!”

It was hard for her to bite back a smile as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer. 

Slowly, he pressed his lips to her cheek and his gloomy disposition disappeared entirely. “It’s alright… Mostly. I’m just glad we’re back on the same side again.” 

Lowering her voice, Roxy leaned into his chest, “Let’s team up for the next one then. Your superior pranking knowledge plus my…” 

“Toothpaste Oreos?” Her boyfriend joked, bouncing his knee a little bit to pull a laugh out of her. “Glitter bombs?”

“Exactly!” 

As James opened his mouth to respond, Kendall came barreling into the lobby from the pool, finding all of his friends visibly pranked and ready for the competition to come to an end.

He carried two colorful water guns, and judging by the smell emanating from them they were full of something positively nasty. The entire air of the lobby changed as he counted everyone in the room, realizing a few people were still missing. “Who got you?” 

Though his question was directed at Carlos and James, Roxy couldn’t help but join as they chorused, “Who do you think?” 

Little footsteps hitting the hotel carpet alerted everyone to a newcomer on the opposite side of the room, and immediately, Kendall got his answer. There appeared Katie, silver and black seltzer spray bottle in her hands, ready to fire on her own family at a moment's notice. 

“Still think I can’t handle ye day of pranks, big brother?” She questioned, curling her fingers down on the trigger. 

At the sight, Kendall lowered his spray guns, once again donning his terrible old English accent and casually sauntering toward her. “Lord Prankerton would be very proud of you, baby sister,” he drew his weapons once more, “but this battle’s not over!”

“Yes, it is!” Someone cut in from behind the front desk, Bitters popping up into view. This caused a bit of a stir from the teens, considering he hadn’t made it clear he had been playing from the very start. 

There’s gotta be a rule in the book against this… 

When the murmuring died down, the man continued, “Because if either of you make another mess, I will pull off the ultimate prank: I’ll close the pool for two weeks!”

“Ugh, what a tool,” Roxy found herself whispering to James, causing a snicker to escape his lips. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by the hotel manager’s unnecessarily loud evil laugh echoing through the room.

It didn’t take long for the Knight siblings to come up with a solution, however, as the two of them locked eyes with a subtle nod. Bitters was too occupied in executing his evil plan, he didn’t see the two of them look toward their friends, to make sure everyone was on the same page. 

Simple enough, Roxy figured, nodding toward the frontman. Even if he punishes us, seeing Bitters get pranked will be so worth it. 

Kendall and Katie thought so too, opening fire on the unsuspecting man and drenching both him and the front desk in the rotten substance and seltzer combination. That was enough to drive anyone mad, especially the irate manager, who quickly recanted his threat and ran off into the backroom to hide from the Knight’s relentless assault. 

All the cheering coming from the lobby couldn’t have helped Bitters feel better either, but it was a more than satisfying conclusion for all of the other players. Lord Prankerton would have been proud to see it. 

Taking a few moments, the cheering eventually died down as the smell of rotting dairy filled everyone's noses. 

Disgusting. Roxy thought, though it was easy for her to burrow into James’ neck and take in the sweet spice lime of his cologne. 

From there, it was easy for the group to come to a consensus and choose their winner - The siblings who had saved the day of pranks. 

***

Kendall and Katie had chosen a Star Wars theme for their coronation ceremony by the pool, which, as James explained to Roxy, was the right of the competition’s victor. 

Sweet enough to play along after finally managing to scrub all the jelly out of her favorite orange top was Jo, who was happy to wrap her hair up like Princess Leia and place the original handmade crown on her boyfriend’s head. 

In the time it took to prepare for the ceremony, Logan and Carlos had been hard at work making a second, identical crown, which the makeshift princess also presented to Katie while a fanfare of medieval horns played from the band’s boombox. 

Did both of them mean to dress like Han Solo?

Both Knights brought a finger under their nose as Lord Prankerton’s salute, before walking down the path lined with their friends and other competitors they had beaten as cheers and applause filled the open space. 

To her left, she heard James and Logan solemnly swear, “We’ll get him next year,” only able to imagine what the future would hold for her and the band. 

Originally, they had planned a big poolside party to celebrate, but Bitters had stayed true to his threat to shut the area down for a few weeks - Not that any of them minded. 

Once the ceremony came to a close, James threaded his fingers through Roxy’s, guiding them back into the hotel and away from all the noise of the silly string fight breaking out. 

“I told Katie not to hand out her extra cans…” Roxy mused, swinging their arms back and forth as they walked, “And I’m certainly not helping her get that gunk out of her hair! It took me forever after her attack.”

Opening the door to the stairwell for his girlfriend, James smiled at her comment before asking, “Are you free tonight? I feel sort of bad for ruining our picnic earlier.”

Pausing, that comment almost shortwired Roxy’s brain. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, James. I ruined our date last night, so we can call it even.”

She tried to brush off her statement with a dry giggle, pulling on his hand to bring him to the second floor before realizing she hadn’t actually answered his question. 

“But, no, actually I’m booked! Camille and I finally made up, so we’re going to have a sleepover tonight.” Roxy tugged on his arm again, though now, it was to check the time on James’ brown watch. “I’ve still got some time though, so let’s go back to mine. We’ve got a phone call to make!”

Heading their way down the hallway their apartment’s shared, James squeezed Roxy’s hand a bit tighter, “We?”

“Yup! Even if you lost the prank competition today, I think you’ve won a phone call to my dad to tell him that we’re dating.”

His next words came out a stutter as Roxy fished her keys out of her bag to unlock her apartment door, “I-I’ve never…”

Cocking her head, she guided him inside and flipped the lights on as she waited for him to finish his statement. 

“I’ve never had to tell anyone’s parents I was their kid’s boyfriend before…” Not even concerned by the prospect of having to tell Declan Somerset he was dating his daughter, James fell back onto the couch, a goofy grin splashing across his features. “You really want me to tell him? Like, really, for real?”

“Yes, like, really for real!” Roxy echoed, flopping onto the cushion beside him and unable to stop herself before saying, “Because we’re really for real… Right?”

Since she had taken care of her fight with Camille, it was finally time to put some of her insecurities about her relationship from earlier to rest. All her cards were on the table, now it was up to James to see how he was willing to play them. 

And he wasted no time leaning over to give his girlfriend a series of kisses before breathing out, “Of course we are, Roxy.”

All Roxy could manage was a shy, “O-okay. Good. Just checking,” before pulling her phone out of her pocket. Though she and her dad called every few days, it was usually in the mornings when they were both getting ready for work. Hopefully, there wasn’t a football game tonight and he wouldn’t be concerned if she sent him a FaceTalk request so late in the evening. “Ready?” 

“That depends.” James cooly replied, running a hand through his long hair. “On a scale from 1-10, how likely is it that your dad might fly out here and kill me for dating his one and only daughter?”

[whumpy-bi]

Original Work: The Investigator

Warnings: implied kidnapping to be explored in future installments, disappearances

Words: 1097

Note: this is way longer than most of my other posts, but I wanted to try a more substantial story with my own characters. This is also just going to be a collection of whump tropes I particularly enjoy, so I hope y’all like it too!

Owen had sent the message to his consultant around two in the morning, when he absolutely should’ve been sleeping. But, instead, he was hunched over his computer as usual, multiple tabs open with deep web pages and unmarked files he’d personally found.

This is happening too much to be a coincidence. There’s a pattern here.

Owen opened up his map program again, marking out every disappearance he’d been told about in the last six months. Every victim—they ranged in age and background, Owen couldn’t observe a pattern with them—was last seen in the same area, a long stretch of road across town with an array of local businesses and offices. He knew the street, it was only a few blocks away, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been there. The authorities had written all of them off as runaways, they had mostly dismissed all of them. But what were the odds of so many people, in so many circumstances, going missing in the same place?

Owen mumbled to himself, resting his head on his hand. “There’s no way. No way.”

He scrolled through the map, watching the road as it moved further and further south into a huge stretch of woods. Miles and miles of empty land, nothing but trees and a single road separating them.. Until—

Owen stopped when he spotted a building from overhead, zooming in and squinting. He typed the address out to his companion, sending it along with a screenshot.

This looks like an old cabin or something. What can you find?

His friend replied within minutes. Evidently, they also couldn’t sleep.

This guy owns it, he’s been real active in the search parties. Owns a big chunk of the land out there. Some kinda survivalist guy, runs a blog about it.

The investigator looked over the link his friend attached, reading the basic information of a social media page. “Benjamin, huh?” He mumbled to nobody in particular. “Looks like he’s got the only property on this road. Guess he won’t mind if I take a look around.”

I’ll head down there tomorrow. Maybe he can answer some questions about what’s going on.

Dude, what if he calls the cops?

I won’t do anything illegal, relax. Just a friendly guy coming by to ask about the area.

You’re not gonna break in again?

That was one time, okay? I swear to god, no break-ins.

Owen did manage to get a few hours of sleep after that, driving out to the cabin a few hours into the morning. Even with the summer warmth and bright sunlight, the expansive forest was beginning to creep him out. He could easily see how people went missing in this—if you lost sight of the road, you could absolutely find yourself stuck in an endless loop of trees and rocks and soil. No distinguishing landmarks, no breaks in the trees to civilization. Whatever search parties went through here, Owen could imagine they might have missed something.

When he pulled up, the house looked well loved. Hydrangea bushes in the front, colorful and watered, a very nice-looking vintage truck in the driveway, and a (somewhat tacky) Memorial Day sign hanging on the front door.

Owen awkwardly knocked on the door under the sign, his jaw shifting as he heard someone fiddling with the lock. The man who opened the door regarded him with a smile.

Owen’s first thought was that he looked like the photo he’d seen—pale, with light brown hair and a thick beard and eyebrows. His eyes were dark, but they looked kind, and Owen felt at ease for a moment.

“How can I help you, mister…?”

“Uh—hi. I’m, uh…Owen Jones, I’m a private investigator. I just had a few questions about—“ He gestured to the forest surrounding them. “The area, I heard you might be familiar with it.”

“Of course! Not to boast too much, but—“ The older man smiled wide. “I’m probably the most familiar with these woods.”

Owen smiled, his expression naturally warm and approachable. “That’s great. I’ve been tracking a couple…disappearances, recently. One of the victim’s families really hopes I can find an answer, you know?”

“Of course, of course. It’s been really tragic, I’ve been helping the police look for all those people. You seen the last one? Poor girl, young. About your age, I think, really horrible. I’ve still been keeping an eye out, myself.”

Owen frowned, nodding in agreement with his words. “Yeah, I did see the woman who just went missing. It’s happening a lot, so—I guess I just need to know if you’ve noticed anything suspect. Anything at all.”

The homeowner rubbed his jaw in thought. “Not that I’ve noticed, unless you count the occasional bear sighting. Some weird noises at night, maybe? But I could be hearin’ things.”

Owen nodded, his hand twitching a bit as he listened. “Well, I’ll give you my card…just in case you do hear anything. Maybe we can stop the next incident, right?”

“I’ll certainly keep an ear out.”

The younger man glanced back at his car, wincing. “Hey—could I use your bathroom before I go? Long drive back.”

Owen blinked slowly as he washed his hands in the cabin’s bathroom, glancing between his hands and his reflection. “Well…this was a whole waste of time, but at least he’s nice.” He frowned, remembering his previous experience with a very angry and very intense mechanic who had once threatened to kill him for daring to ask questions on his property.

As he smirked to himself at the memory of the man’s face, his eyes drifted to the window. The house had a small backyard, a little space of grass before the endless ocean of trees. It seemed nice—a fire pit, a single lawn chair and a bird feeder. But Owen’s eyes locked on something that seemed out of place, under the colorful lawn chair.

A dark metal circle, flat against the ground. It was just barely peeking out from under the chair, but it was unmistakable.

Owen’s mumble was barely audible. “What the hell…?”

He was heading for the front door a few minutes later, adjusting his blazer over his shirt as he walked out. “Thanks for talking with me, Benjamin, i appreciate it a lot!” A canned spiel Owen had said hundreds of times, the friendly words were automatic and (hopefully) convincing. He typed out a text message to his associate, finishing and sending it before he was back in his car.

I’m coming back tonight, something didn’t feel right. I’ll need you to drive in case it goes wrong.

[keeshya6]

Last Chance

Chapter 4 - The Last Thing Stopping Him

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Reader explores Jackson a little, meets a couple more people, and we learn a bit more history.

(This chapter includes spoilers for The Last of Us, season 1, episode 1. Stop HERE if you don't want spoilers.)

Content Warning and general info: Angst, grief, some build up of spiciness, discussing death, loss of a child, Reader has a nickname

Oh, this chapter is kind of edited... it was late again. I'll probably be editing a little more when I look at it later. Lol.

Thank you for reading! As always, I'd love to hear from ya'll! Any comments and reblogs are loved and appreciated!

Also available on Ao3

I hope you enjoy!

Tagging: @vickie5446

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Chapter 4 - The Last Thing Stopping Him

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The next day you keep yourself busy, exploring more of Jackson and introducing yourself to people. You learn some of their stories: where they're from, how they came to be in Jackson, what they do here, etc..

It has you contemplating what you're going to do to contribute to the community, though the councilwoman you met a few days ago told you not to worry about it right away. She said you could take a couple weeks to recuperate and get settled. The community would take care of you.

Being part of something so well organized and so companionable again is a very foreign feeling. It's going to take some getting used to again, but you're looking forward to it.

It's a little after noon when you cross paths with Tommy again, on his way to help with the community's livestock. He greets you with a grin and a hug. Then he invites you to dinner, to meet his wife and son.

Your eyebrows shoot upward. "You're married? And… a father?" you ask, amusement laced into your tone. "Mister New-Girl-Every-Couple-Months?"

Tommy heaves a long suffering sigh and rolls his eyes, giving a shake of his head. "Don't start on me, Eeps," he says with a warning tone, even though he's smirking. "I get enough of that from my big brother."

A faint chuckle passes your lips and then you take a slow breath. You breeze past the way your stomach does a little somersault at the mention of Joel. "I'm happy for you, Tommy. Just a little teasing," you say, with a grin. "And I'd love to join you."

He grins in return with a nod, gives you directions to his house, and continues on his way to the stockyards.

Taking another deep breath as he walks away, you exhale slowly and let your eyes close as you try to still the rapid beat of your heart.

You'd been spending the day out in the town to keep your mind off Joel, and now he's the center of your thoughts once more. Along with those thoughts, the anxiety creeps up on you again, the same mix of excitement and fear that barely allowed you to sleep last night.

Some of the night you had cried, overwhelmed with the relief of knowing he's alive and somewhere nearby; or because the uncertainty caught in your throat about whether or not he'll be happy to see you. Other times when you woke up yet again, you had just laid there in quiet thought, pulling up happy memories from so long ago that you hadn't often indulged in thinking about.

Opening your eyes again, you swallow hard and clench your jaw with determination.

You can do this. You'll make it through this, no matter how it goes, just like everything else since outbreak day.

With one more clarifying breath, you turn away from Tommy's retreating back and resume your exploration of Jackson.

Several hours later finds you standing at the door of a cute house, nibbling at your lip as you hesitate to knock. After a few minutes pass, you finally manage to trample down your anxiety and rap your knuckles against the door.

You're surprised to see the door answered by the councilwoman you met a week ago.

"Oh! Maria!" you say with a somewhat embarrassed smile. "You're…Tommy's wife?"

Maria gives you a kind smile and nods, opening the door and gesturing for you to come inside. "Yes," she responds, before a confused expression crosses her face. "But he told me your name was Eeps. That's not what you told me when we met."

An exasperated sigh escapes you. "Eeps is the nickname he dubbed me back in Austin," you say with a faint laugh despite yourself, "when it was found that I squeak when I'm surprised or…tickled." You give her a tortured look.

For a second, she does chuckle as she guides you into the house from the entryway. Then she goes quiet and her brows pinch together as she looks at you curiously.

It's not a jealous look, but you can guess that she's wondering about the extent of your past friendship with her husband. You give a little shake of your head. "He liked startling me, but he wasn't the one that tickled me," you say with a smirk.

Her expression grows serious at that as she nods and leads you through the living room, towards the kitchen. "Oh. Joel."

You give her a curious tilt of your head, brows peaked. "Yes…"

She pauses near the entry into the kitchen, turning to fully face you and leveling a concerned look at you. "Look, I don't know you well," she starts, "but you seem like a considerate person. I'm concerned, and so is Tommy, about you meeting Joel again." She holds up a hand to stave off your response when you scowl, shift your weight to one hip, and cross your arms. "Just…hear me out, please. With everything Tommy has told me about how things were, and considering how they are now, we're just worried you're setting yourself up to be disappointed."

You stare at her for a moment, shocked that someone you barely know would talk like this. Then again, she does know Tommy and Joel, and she probably didn't get to being a council member by being timid with her words. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you force your expression to soften.

"I hear you," you say simply, then add, "and maybe I will be disappointed." Shrugging, you throw your hands up briefly before dropping them down onto your hips. "But I'm not so worried about being disappointed that I'm just going to give up and not try."

Maria's dark eyes narrow a little and she studies you for a moment before a smile curves her mouth upward. "Fair enough. I can't fault you for that… too much."

After a moment you return her smile and then follow her as she turns to head into the kitchen.

"Come on," she says. "I've got a couple things to finish for dinner before Mikey is up from his nap. You can cut up some veggies."

The next couple hours pass pleasantly with easy enough conversation. You learn a little about Maria, about how she and Tommy met, their whirlwind romance, and how they balance their community roles with their new roles as parents. You also meet little Micheal, their one-year-old, immediately adoring his cherub smile.

As you get up to take your leave, Maria bids you goodnight and scoops up her toddler to take upstairs for bed. Tommy, with a proud smile on his face, watches them go for a moment before turning to you and offering to walk you out.

You make it about halfway back through the living room before you stop short, a soft gasp catching in your throat and making Tommy tense and spin back towards you.

He finds you frozen in place, a stricken expression on your features as you stare at the mantle over the fireplace.

Tommy's eyes follow yours and his shoulders relax as he sighs softly.

Tears rim your eyes as you look over at Tommy and then back to the small chalkboard sitting on the mantle, with two candles in front of it. Two names are on the board, with dates written below them: Kevin, 4/3/00 - 9/29/03… and Sarah, 7/20/89 - 9/27/03.

A lump forms in your throat and it takes you a few tries to swallow around it as you stare at Sarah's name. You don't even realize you're moving then, until Tommy has led you to sit in a chair, your eyes locked on the little memorial.

Tommy crouches beside your knee as you sit there, a few silent tears slipping down your cheeks. He waits, patiently, nodding to Maria when she comes back in. Realizing what has happened, she sits on the nearby couch to wait too.

When you finally find your voice again, it cracks with emotion. "The day after outbreak?" you ask in barely more than a whisper.

Tommy gives a slight nod. "Yeah… really early hours."

You swallow hard again and nod. Then, you hastily swipe at the tears on your cheeks, heaving a sigh. "I don't know why this is hitting so hard," you whisper in a broken voice. "I-I basically mourned all of you years ago. And… I still suspected something happened to her. You would have mentioned her otherwise."

He nods again but it's Maria that speaks up. "Suspicion is one thing, but knowing for certain can be harder sometimes."

Glancing over at the other woman, you nod again after a moment of thought and sniffle a little.

Then, you freeze for a second, your mind reeling. It feels like a rock drops into your gut as your eyes dart back up to the chalkboard memorial and then tear over to Tommy's concerned face.

"Please, Tommy," you choke out, "please, t-tell me Joel didn't have t-… Sarah didn't get bit a-and…" Your words catch in your throat, the thought too horrific to even finish.

To his credit, Tommy catches on quickly and is shaking his head before you have to finish the thought. "No, no. It wasn't like that. He didn't have to… to do that," he assures you and you sigh heavily in relief. Then, at the sad and quizzical look you give him, he shakes his head. "It's not my story to tell, Eeps."

You mull on that for a moment, worrying at your lip with your teeth as you look back up at the board. With a steadying breath, you nod and gulp against the thick feeling in your throat.

"Okay. I'll wait for Joel to tell me… if he wants to," you say, taking another cleansing breath and unsteadily pushing to your feet. After all, you thought, it's not like knowing exactly what happened would change anything. "I should get going," you say, giving Tommy a sad little smile as he rises to his feet beside you.

Saying your goodbyes again is more somber this time. You thank Maria for dinner and her hospitality. Tommy finishes walking you out, even going all the way down the path from his door to the quiet street.

Once there he gives you a brief squeeze of a hug and smiles at you, a tinge of sadness in his eyes now too. "Thanks, Eeps, for…giving a shit about us all."

You give a strained laugh, punching his shoulder lightly. "How could I not? You Millers have a way of digging into people, one way or another."

His chuckle follows you as you turn on the toes of your boots and start the trek back to your house.

—

You had learned something that night, outside the club.

Joel was a damn good kisser.

After that night, he didn't hold back on the kissing anymore either, and you didn't question it.

Hell, you learned the heady taste of his kiss, the contours of his mouth, and the way he liked to tease your tongue with his own, before you ever learned about things like his favorite sports teams and the best concert he'd ever gone to. That knowledge did start filtering in too, of course, but not nearly as quickly as what way you had to drag your nails across his scalp to get him to moan a little into a kiss.

Things lingered there for a long while, with dates scattered across several more weeks as you tried to fit in time together with both of your busy schedules. At least they were no longer ending with just a peck on the cheek though. The heat in the lingering kisses, or even full on make-out sessions, was amping up each time you got to see Joel, and the more time you spent together the more you liked him. Just thinking about him throughout the days in between dates often had you lost in daydreams, unable to find the relief you could at night with the help of your clever fingers, and you'd end up fighting a blush when something or someone would pull you back to reality.

One Friday night, after you'd been seeing each other for a little over three months, Joel surprised you.

He liked doing that.

Standing in the threshold of your front door, he had you wrapped up in his arms and lost in one of those delicious kisses. Then, he pulled back just enough to break it and held you there for a moment, dark eyes searching your face.

Your lashes fluttered a little before you could focus up at him, and found him with a faint, self-satisfied smirk on his lips. A small snort escaped you and you rolled your eyes as he chuckled.

Yes, you enjoyed his kisses and you were both well aware.

Then you lifted a brow at him.

His tongue darted over his lips, conveying his nervousness, despite the soft smile. "Would you… like to come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

Your eyebrows had reached high at that. "What about Sarah?" you asked.

Saturdays were normally reserved for time with his daughter, and Joel had been very clear about that. On other nights, when the two of you went out, she was usually at the neighbors' house or at home spending time with Joel's brother or one of their parents. Either way, it was why Joel always headed home earlier than you might have liked otherwise.

But you couldn't deny how endearing his devotion to his kid was.

His jaw twitched a little to the side as he ground his teeth for a second, and then gave you an uncertain smile. "I'd…like you to meet her."

A light breeze could probably have tipped you over if Joel's arms hadn't been around you.

"R-really?"

He barely nodded. “It won’t be anything fancy…”

You smiled brightly and pushed up on your toes to give him a quick kiss and cut off his nervous words. "I'd love to."

The next night you couldn't believe how nervous you were as you drove to his place, your nails drumming on the steering wheel with erratic rhythms. You had changed your clothes about a dozen times before deciding on something, even though Joel had assured you that 'casual' was the way to go.

Pulling up to the house, you looked over the two-story home and smiled softly. It was simple in design but functional, and it fit exactly what you would have expected for Joel.

When you reached the front door, it yanked open so suddenly, before you even had a chance to knock, that you jumped with a squeak of surprise.

You were greeted by a beautiful young girl with a beaming smile on her golden-bronze face, her dark honey-brown eyes shining. She said your name as a question and, when you nodded, she giggled. "You really do squeak like Uncle Tommy said. Can I call you Eeps too?"

You sighed with a laugh over the recently acquired nickname and nodded. Grinning, she opened the screen door and hurriedly introduced herself as Sarah. She grabbed you by the hand then and tugged you inside.

Still laughing, you stumbled into a small-ish living room that led straight into a dining room and kitchen, where Joel stood over a steaming pot of something, stirring it. Your eyes met his across the space, over miscellaneous pieces of furniture, and the wide smile he gave you made your heart skip a little.

His broad shoulders moved up in an amused shrug. "She was excited."

"I gathered," you said with a smile of your own.

"I'm going to give her a tour!" Sarah announced and, without waiting for confirmation from either adult, she tugged you along again, upstairs.

There wasn't a lot to show up there: a decent sized bathroom with Joel's room on one side of it (you barely caught a discreet glimpse inside), and Sarah's room down at the other end of the hall. The way she lingered with you in her room, showing you some of her favorite things and talking excitedly about her favorite music and movies, you realized that the girl was probably just happy to have some feminine companionship. Joel and Tommy didn't exactly fit into that puzzle piece.

So, you stayed up there with her for a while, letting her chatter on cheerfully. Eventually she got around to asking questions about you: what some of your favorite things were, why did you become an architect… how much did you like her dad?

Preteens aren't exactly subtle.

You gave her a slow, broad smile, nibbling your lip a little. "I like him a lot," you said, and then paused, noticing how inadequate that word felt. "Actually… I adore him," you amended with a shrug.

Sarah beamed at you and then leaned in to whisper, as if sharing a secret. "Good, 'cause I think he's a little crazy about you. He's always in the best mood on the days after he sees you."

That made your smile brighten and you could feel warmth creep up your neck and into your cheeks, just in time for Joel to call up the stairs for you and Sarah to come down.

Grinning at you, Sarah hopped up from the edge of the bed, her tight curls bouncing. She paused, a soft grimace crossing her face. "Just… don't judge his cooking too much," she said, as she held out her hand for yours again.

You laughed, eyes widening dramatically as you let her take your hand again. "Oh, great. Now you've got me scared," you said as she led you out her door and back downstairs with a giggle.

As you and Sarah settled into chairs at the table, Joel glanced back from dishing up what looked like spaghetti. “Either of you scare the other off yet?”

Sarah grinned. “Not yet!” she quipped, then she turned back to you. “Dad actually makes the best spaghetti.”

“Then I’ll take notes,” you said with a smile. You glanced up and tossed Joel a wink as he set plates down in front of you and his daughter, making him smirk and show off that dimple of his before he turned to grab his own plate.

Dinner passed quickly, with Sarah leading most of the conversation with exuberance. She told you about her soccer tournaments, a play she’d been in at school, and how much she was looking forward to a camping trip with her best friend’s family in a couple of weeks. You listened intently, asking the occasional question to encourage her. Now and then you would look over at Joel and find him smiling softly between bites of his food, either at you or at Sarah.

After dinner, you and Sarah got up to wash the dishes. Joel tried to disuade you, as his guest, but you just gave him a playful shove towards the couch and took over the task before he could come up with a better excuse. Once finished, you and Sarah joined Joel on the couch to watch some reality t.v. car show, with Sarah curling up into his side.

Within half an hour, the girl was snoring softly with her head on her dad’s lap, and you exchanged a smile with him when you both noticed. Joel chuckled and let her stay there for a little while, to make sure she was really out, before he carefully gathered her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to her room.

When he came back down, he found you standing at the front screen door, looking out at the view of the sky. He stepped up behind you and slipped his arms around you, making you squeak and then giggle as you leaned back into him.

"You alright?"

You nodded, an easy smile curving your mouth. "Yeah. Just watching the stars come out," you said with a thin laugh. "My place is too close to the city center. Can barely see them."

He nodded and you could feel it against your hair.

“So…" he said after a few moments of quiet, "I think she likes you." His voice rumbled in his chest against your back.

With a grin, you rested your head back against his shoulder. “You think so? I figured she was just a chatty, little almost-teenager.”

A soft laugh escaped him. “She is, but not usually that much.”

Your hands slid along his forearms, across your midsection, as you huffed a little laugh. Then, after a moment of thought you smiled brightly, “I like her too, Joel. She’s a great kid.”

You could feel the way his chest swelled with pride against your back and you pressed your lips together to keep from grinning like too much of a fool.

For a while, the two of you stayed like that in comfortable silence, watching as more stars blinked to life in the sky's dark canopy outside the door. Occasionally, Joel would tilt his head down and press a kiss against your shoulder or to the side of your neck, until you hummed contentedly and could feel his smile against your skin.

Glancing down at your watch, you took a deep breath and then exhales slowly. "Well, it's about time for me to get to driving," you said, shifting in his arms.

Then, you froze, when his arms tightened around you, just a bit.

"Do you…want to stay?" he softly asked against your hair, near your ear.

Your mouth felt instantly dry and you swallowed hard, eyes widening a little as you twisted in his arms, just enough to look back at him over your shoulder. Dark eyes met yours, so close, warm and intense, and after a moment his brows ticked upward a fraction of an inch.

With your lip caught by your teeth, it took you a moment to find your voice. "Be…before I figure out how to answer that," you started softly, your tongue darting over your lips. With the way his eyes followed the movement you might have melted into him right then and there, if you weren't still a bit confused. "...why now? What changed?"

It was Joel's turn to look confused, brows drawing together to deepen the creases between them.

You swallowed thickly again and let a little puff of a laugh tumble from you. "It's…not like there haven't been other…opportunities," you said, warmth fluttering into your cheeks. "Of any night, I wasn't expecting tonight with…being here," you finished with a slight shrug and a brief glance over his shoulder towards the stairs.

He nodded in understanding and let a smile pull at his own lips as he shrugged too. "Honestly… seeing you get along with my kid is what changed." When you gave him another incredulous look, he chuckled and then shrugged. "Until I knew if you two got along, I couldn't risk gettin' more invested in… seeing where this all goes."

For a few moments, you were quiet as you processed that, until a gradual smile was drawing up the ends of your mouth. You canted your head at him with a curious and playful look. "'More invested', hm?"

Joel grinned, unapologetic, and didn't elaborate. Instead, he slipped one hand up from your waist to cup your cheek and pull you into a kiss over your shoulder. It only lasted a few seconds before he broke it and whispered against your lips, "What do ya think, Darlin'?"

Your breath stuttered as you found yourself nodding eagerly, turning in his arms. Just as you were about to kiss him again, as his big hands splayed across your back, you paused and a laugh escaped you. "You know," you said, a coquettish smirk on your lips, "you would choose the one date I figured there was no possible reason to wear one of my sexier bra and panty sets, and just went with cute and practical instead."

Joel's brows lifted with piqued interest as he smirked too, blatantly letting his darkening eyes drift down over the lines of your covered body and then back up to your face. The smile he gave you then was almost wolfish before he dipped his head down to nuzzle his mouth against the hair by your ear.

His voice was a lower timbre than normal, sending heat spearing straight to your core. "Guess I better make a good impression then… to up my chances of seeing those other ones…"

A giggle tumbled out of you as your fingers fisted into his curls, making him hiss, and pulling to lift his head. "I like the way you think, Joel Miller," you purred, and then slotted your mouth to his as he tugged your body up flush against him.

—

Joel grumbles as he stretches his neck from one side to the other, shifting uncomfortably on his horse's saddle.

Two days of riding to get back home is a damn long time, and he couldn't be happier to see the gates of Jackson as they creak open.

It's still fairly early and only about half of the town seems to be awake as the patrol group makes its way down main street towards the stables. They're spotted a few times by residents greeting them and asking questions. No one bothers Joel though, so he nudges his horse on ahead.

He's nearly to the stables when his fists tighten on the reins and he pulls the horse up short, making the animal paw irritably at the dirt. Joel doesn't notice though, his eyes locked further down the road.

His chest starts to burn with the shallow breaths he's taking and the way his heartbeat is rocketing upward. A ringing fills his ears as he clenches his eyes closed, dropping his chin down towards his chest.

Ellie draws her horse up next to him about then, her face scrunching up with concern as she reaches over to his shoulder. "Woah, Joel? You okay?" When he doesn't answer immediately, she shakes his shoulder a little. "Joel?!"

Joel grunts, batting her hand away, and continues to focus on evening out his breaths until the ringing in his ears starts to subside. When he does finally speak, his voice is choked though.

"Ellie, do you see Maria up a-ahead? Near the grocery?"

There's a pause as Ellie looks. "Ummm…yeah."

"Is…" he starts and then pauses, swallowing roughly, "...is there someone with her?"

Fucking hell, it had to be his imagination, right? Right?

"Yeah. Don't recognize her though."

Joel's jaw clenches against an unfamiliar tremble. "What… does she look like?"

He can practically feel the questioning look Ellie gives him but then she starts listing off descriptors.

Hair color. Skin tone. Build. Her best guess at height.

His fingers tighten on the reins as every word matches his memories and a painful ache builds in his gut and claws up into his chest.

With every breathful of labored air burning his lungs, Joel finally lifts his eyes up again to find where Maria is standing about a block away.

Talking with you.

He lurches out of the saddle, boots hitting the road hard, and then he's moving forward before he even realizes it.

His voice cracks the first time he tries to raise it and he has to try again.

This time, your name comes out of Joel in a pained bellow, echoing off of the storefronts of mainstreet.

[whatyadrawin]

Crystal Lake Shadows 18+ Only! Ch 3

Masterlist

Approximately 1,171 words

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x AMAB character

Warnings: Violence, strong language, strong sexual themes

A/n: I am sorry for sitting on this one for a while, I have been really busy and got writers block. I really want to get this finished and completed. This chapter is a bit short so it is easy to consume. This fic is also very dialogue heavy as well but I hope it doesn't read as a script. The way I am choosing to write is how I personally would want it to be laid out if I was reading it myself (I am ND). Keep in mind, I am not a writer so there may be some mistakes and grammar/formatting issues throughout so please give me some grace. Thanks for reading!!

Chapter 3

The drive back to the apartment complex was beautiful, little white flowers riddled the grass next to the edge of the dirt road that swayed as the truck passed them. The sun was now on its way down and Sergio didn’t want to be alone in the forest at night, especially after the scare he had with the raccoon, he hadn’t felt that kind of fear in a long time and he was both unsettled and exhilarated. The café already had its evening lights on and Sergio thought to himself about asking Marina to come with him to the bar. He wanted to see if he could meet more locals and maybe hear more about the campground killer despite Marina’s protest about inquiry. Sergio pulled into the parking lot and got out to go ask Marina to join him tonight but as he was walking, he felt a sudden pain in his temple

“Ah Jesus what the fuck?”

Sergio put his hand on his head where the pain emerged, the pain was sharp and caused him to feel weak in his legs. He had never had this kind of pain before and it was jarring maybe the scare today stressed me out too much. After a minute or two, the pain immediately dissipated and Sergio stood up straight to head inside the café.

The door jingled as he pushed through, the lights were dimmed and there was nothing to be heard behind the counter.

“Marina are you here?” he shouted.

Some shuffling could be heard in the kitchen. A woman’s voice carried out from the order window.

“Sergio is that you?”

Sergio replied “Yeah, I just wanted to ask you something, are you free?”

Marina came through the kitchen doors and spoke

“Yup, I was just about to close up, what did you want to ask?” her sleeves were rolled up and hands damp from washing the dishes.

“I wondered if you want to come out to the nearest bar with me? I don’t mind going alone but it might be fun if we go together” Sergio rubbed his hands on his neck and waited for a response.

Marina smiled and raised her brow “The nearest bar? Oh honey...”

Sergio felt a bit confused “What, is there not a bar nearby?”

Marina’s smile grew and she chuckled a bit “There is only one bar and its barely on the outskirts of town, what do you want to do there?”

Sergio let out a sigh and smiled “I just want to meet more locals, and it might be nice to just be around more people, this town feels so empty and well, creepy honestly”

His words were met with another big laugh “I feel you there Sergio! I have nothing to do tonight so I would love to accompany a handsome man to the uh…local… bar”

Sergio blushed a little at her words, no one as beautiful as Marina has complimented him on his looks before and he felt a sudden desire to look good tonight. Marina walked outside the café to lock the doors and she spoke

“Let me just go get changed and freshen up so I can look halfway decent tonight, ok? I will be about an hour and I will meet you by your truck” Sergio nodded and headed up to his apartment to take a shower and change.

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

An hour had passed and Sergio made his way down to the truck, the nerves of meeting new people started to creep into his stomach and cause cramps, Jeez what is going on with me today? he pulled his sleeves a bit further down his wrists and crossed his arms as he waited. After 15minutes Marina came down and locked the door, she was dressed in all black and looked stunning. Sergio blushed again how did this town get such a knockout?

They both hopped into the truck and Sergio said

“Alright what is the name of the bar so I can put it in my phone for the directions”

Marina put her purse on her lap and said “You won’t find it on the maps, I will just show you ok”

Sergio felt surprised, not many establishments are off the grid, but out here it makes sense. The drive was a bit long and Marina kept making Sergio turn down so many little roads that kept leading to bigger roads then small ones again, all of them were dirt or gravel.

“So, is this a dive bar?” Sergio asked

“Not really, it’s actually really nice. Bought by a woman who moved away from the city, she is really awesome, she takes no shit”

Sergio looked over “Who else would be there?” she looked back at him and replied

“Well Rob is there almost every night, a few townies you haven’t met yet, and sometimes we get some out of towners… almost always tourists who just happen upon it after getting lost. Rob usually gets hammered and tells them about… Jason. I swear he wants to kill the town by freaking out the tourists!”

Sergio asked her “It still sounds so much like an urban legend to me, how do you all know that this Jason guy was the one to terrorize the town for so many years? What if it was a bunch of random murderers passing through at different times… or wild animals?”

Marina let out a sigh “Listen, its possible that all the deaths were not from Jason, its possible that wild animals could have been responsible for maybe one or two but all the bodies the detectives found were either hacked to bits or mangled in an inhuman and non-animal way... almost supernatural” She looked fearful for a moment before shaking it off and continuing “The story behind Jason Voorhees is a bit of a hearsay these days but if you really are THAT curious, I guess you could go ask Bob, he knows the most, but take it in with a grain of salt. Bob is likely at the bar tonight so go find him and see if he wants to fill you in. Make a right at this sign and we are going to arrive in a minute”

Sergio turned when he saw a sign saying ‘Maple Sap Saloon’ to a colorfully lit log building appeared in a clearing. There were festive lantern lights all on the outside of the bar, the patio had a lot of people on it drinking and eating. Sergio was impressed, this bar seemed like it didn’t even exist and yet it was so lively and full of people. The entire town must come to the bar to socialize with each other, the lot was just an empty dirt area to park wherever you could. Sergio parked and Marina grabbed her bag to exit, she looked up at him and said

“You ready for a strange night?”

Sergio nodded and smiled, ready to search for Bob and get more intel on this interesting camp killer.