#and that when he sets up his machine for the next patient it usually takes like 30 seconds but cus he wanted to talk to me it took like 5mn

[tbaluver]

hello there ! firstly, i wanted to tell you that i genuinely love your writing bc of the amazing characterization of the lnds boys !!! i wanted to request smth myself <3 feel free to ignore this if it's smth not within your taste !

i just recently thought that it would be cute to have a reader with a disney princess-like voice singing lullabies ! it could be their child or someone they babysit ! you could do any of the lnds boys that react to this but personally i'd like to see zayne (mainly bc he'd probably see reader at the hospital's kids area doing this !) and sylus, please ! thank you for your writing, we adore it ! ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

When They Hear You Singing A Lullaby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: eeeee anonnie i'm so happy to hear you love my writings it always makes me day !! im always grateful and love your guys support for my silly writings ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) i hope this is alright and that you enjoy this anonnie ! and also this emoticon is so cute omg i'm going to use this often ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

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Xavier:

You thought he would be sound asleep when he was over at your place when you were babysitting one of your co-workers baby. The baby wasn't necessarily fussy at all with you but it started crying because it couldn't go to sleep. It woke Xavier up and he followed the sound of the crying down the hall until he overheard you singing a lullaby.

He would peek through the door to hear and watch you put the baby back to sleep. He watches in pure adoration, a soft smile spreading across his face. After you gently set the baby down, he approaches you slowly, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "You sang so beautifully," He whispers softly, careful not to disturb the baby. "Can you sing me to sleep next?"

"As if you need any help sleeping" You joked but you did it anyway. You sang a soft lullaby as he rested his head on your chest. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly, a soft smile on his face, before you could even finish the song

Zayne:

While waiting for Zayne to finish his shift at the hospital, you received a text from him apologizing for the delay; he needed to discuss an upcoming operation with his colleagues. You texted him to take his time and began exploring the familiar hospital halls. As you wandered, you found yourself in the children’s area, admiring the colorful murals that brighten the space. Your growing hunger led you in search of a vending machine, but instead, you encountered a crying familiar child patient. You remember this child when you collected their drawings for the charity event you and Zayne helped with.

You crouch down to meet eye level with the child asking if they needed any assistance or if they needed a nurse but they simply shook their head saying that they can't find the nurse and that they can't sleep. They tugged your arm and asked if you can tell them a story or sing them a lullaby and you were more than happy to help out.

After finishing his shift, Zayne looked for you in the work hallway, but it was empty. He texted you but got no response, so he followed your shared location. As he approached, he heard you singing a familiar children's lullaby. Peeking through the door, he saw your back turned as you sang. He didn't want to interrupt but wanted to hear the whole song for himself too, captivated by your delicate and graceful voice. He was literally melting on the spot as he heard you sing. A smile would slowly spreading across his lips.

He's heard you humming before, usually when your doing your work or when you were helping him out in the kitchen. You let your mind drift off just a little bit as you hummed some of your favorite melodies. He already knew you had a beautiful voice but every time he tried to comment on it, your cheeks would heat up in embarrassment.

Lost in thought, Zayne was startled when you both unexpected crossed paths. You jumped as you emerged from the room, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, worried that he had heard everything. He spoke first, "There is no reason to be flustered. I think you have a beautiful voice and it's certainly comforting. Whenever you are comfortable I would like to hear more of it."

Rafayel:

He was over at your house while you babysat one of your co-workers baby for the day. He asked if you needed any help when the baby started crying but you said it was okay as you ran off the go tend to the baby while he continued sketching on his sketchbook.

That's when he hears your voice. He sets aside his pencil and sketchbook, stopping his work to peek through the doorway. There, he watches you sing a lullaby while gently cradling the baby. He would think that your voice was beautiful and enchanting that seemed to effortlessly captivate all who hears it.

When you gently put the baby back down to it's bed, he'll be upset. Not literally. But upset that he hasn't heard you sing him a lullaby or ever heard you sing first or at all. He would pout and want you to sing him a lullaby immediately.

When you do, he falls asleep on your shoulder while he was sketching so when he wakes up he thinks your secretly full Leumurian because he hasn't heard a beautiful voice like that years ago.

Sylus:

While Sylus was away on business, you let him know that you were busy taking care of your coworker's baby at your shared home. To be prepared, you had Luke and Kieran on standby in case you needed a break. When the baby began to cry, you swiftly picked them up, cradling them and singing a soothing song. Meanwhile, Luke and Kieran lingered in the hallway, and one of them decided to record your sweet singing and send it to Sylus, giggling as they did so knowing that he would love this.

As night fell and your coworker came to collect their baby, Sylus arrived shortly afterward. “Two little crows mentioned you can sing, sweetie. Is that true?” A blush spread across your cheeks, realizing that the twins had set you up once again. "I wish I could have been there to hear it myself. A video is not the same to hearing your mesmerizing voice in person."

Although he finds it amusing and adorable, he would ask if you could sing him a song to help him unwind because the business he dealt with was stressful. He wouldn't pressure you to sing him a lullaby but he would reassure you that your voice was already one of his favorite sounds already and nothing would ruin that.

That seemed to ease your worries, and as you both settled into bed, you let him unwind. You sang the same lullaby to him that you’d sung to the baby. Your gentle voice was incredibly soothing, wrapping him in a warmth and coziness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite his usual trouble with sleep, your voice made his eyelids grow heavy, a contented smile spreading across his lips as he drifted off.

It was no surprise that he loved hearing you sing and you having this skill made him think that it made you more beautiful to him than you already were.

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Gym Buddy⭐️

Premise: You made a new friend at the gym, and he is determined to make sure you get a good pump.

Warning: Non-con, fem reader

Minors DNI

Working out with you is almost too much. You're cute, smaller body is too much. The way you look up at him and thank him when he takes the weight off you when you push your body to failure. The way you whimper when you can't do one more rep. He first saw you looking at a machine for biceps and you seemed ok, but your form could be a bit better so he decided he'd help you by correcting it.

The next time he saw you, you were trying a bicep workout, but you were lifting too heavy and it was messing up your form. Proper form is essential to any excersize and without it, you could risk pulling a muscle. He couldnt just stand by and let you do that so he became your gym buddy whenever he spotted you.

You always look so nervous when he talks to you. You can't even maintain eye contact, but when you do, you look up at him and smile sheepishly. It warms his heart. You thanked him for helping you with your workout and walked on your mary way.

He smiled and continued on with his until he saw you patiently waiting for him to finish his set from the corner of his eye. You're blushing all cute and averting eyes again. He takes out his earbud and looks over at you. "I-I feel like I didn't properly thank you before so thank you again. I really appreciate your help," You say, becoming cherry red by the end.

He wants to just pick you up and take you home. You're like a cute little bunny. He's a respectful guy so he's only ever looked at your body in the places he needs to for your form, but he'd be lying if he said they never drifted to other places. From your sweet-looking neck to the curve of your back, all the way down to your cute butt.

The way your workout clothes fit your body so tight in all the right places. He wonders if you want the attention. When you wear crop tops...or when he's lucky and you wear your super short shorts. The ones that barely cover your...He shakes his head. He can't get hard in the gym again. "No problem. You're very polite, you know," He says. You knod your head in thanks.

You scamper off to go do cute girl things, probably. He hopes you don't have a boyfriend. Actually, theres no way you do. No man would let a girl like you out of their site. Especially in a testosterone filled gym. And talk to other guys? No way. If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be fighting him right now.

If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be laying on the ground, broken and defeated, bleeding from every orifice. He clenches his fists, his veins protruding. He'd lay the bastard the fuck out without a second of hesitation. No mercy and no reasoning. He finishes his workout with more vigour than usual.

The next time he spotted you at the gym, he saw some guy about to walk up to you. They're like fucking flies. This is the third one this week. He speeds up his pace and gets to you first before the fly could get its chance. The other guy turns tail immediately, confusing you because it looked like he'd wanted to talk to you.

"Hey, nice to see you again," he says, smiling that usual charming smile. 'The ladies probably go nuts for this guy,' you thought. "Nice to see you too!" Your voice is so sweet. It's like honey. He's memorized the texture of your sound. "Your arms look really good," you say, your face completely red. That came out of nowhere. He wonders how long you've been working up the courage to say that to him. He chuckles and flexes. "Thank you, I'm very proud of them."

He swears he could eat you up. Just the way you look at his body, whether it be in admiration or otherwise, it's all the same to him. "Do you want to get protein shakes after this? I can make them really tasty." You're going. Whether you like it or not.

"Oh..uhm, you don't have to! I don't know much bout protein anyway," you say nervously. Bingo. "Protein is incredibly important for helping you repair your muscles after you work hard at the gym!" He knows he's gonna convince you.

"O-oh, really? I didn't know that. If it's that important, ok then." You look off to the side, unsure about going to a mans house. He's feeling cuteness aggression. He wants to hug you and squeeze you so badly. His hands twitch, fighting the urdge to do so. He has to look away when you're doing a tough workout.

Watching sweat drip down your face is captivating. He imagines that face when he's alone in his apartment at night, his cock in hand. He just wants to lay you down on your back with him in between your legs...his thoughts wander too much. "Great, you'll love it!" He could'nt be more pleased with himself.

After you both finished, he waits for you outside the changing room. He was so giddy. He loves looking down at you..and seeing your cute little wonderous eyes looking up at him, like a confused little bunny. He takes your hand and leads you out to his car. You blush furiously at the contact. You get in the passenger seat and he drives you back to his place.

It's a really nice and expensive looking apartment building. Modern and well kept. It even has a gym inside. You wonder why he travels to yours. He takes you up to his apartment and you gasp. "It's so big!" He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining those words in a different context. "I'm excited to try the protein shake," you say, snapping him out of his fuzzy daze.

"Ah yes." He takes you over to his spottless kitchen and takes out a blender, some bananas, protein powder, peanut butter and milk. You lean over the counter to peer at what he's doing. Hes really good at making protein shakes. You wonder if he can cook aswell. You wouldn't be surprised. While you're lost in though, he has the perfect view of your cleavage. He bites his lip. Fuck. He feels his dick twitch to life.

He groans. He's been trying not to get hard this whole day. Good thing you're behind the counter. He pours the smoothies into two cups, his being larger because you dont need as much protein as he does. He manages to hide is boner well enough to make his way over to his living room with your cups.

He hands you yours after taking a seat, making sure to place a pillow in his lap. You take a sip. He loves the way your mouth opens and the way you lick your lips of the sweet drink. Fuck. He downs his and watches you. "Hey, so I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to hang out..outside the gym again sometime?" he asks, looking hopeful.

"Oh..uh," you thought he wasn't interested in you! You were sure of it! He's too handsome for you! He's way out of your league. You've never been romanticaaly interested in him. You know your place. You just get really nervous and shy around pretty people. He's an extremely athletic man and you're a snail in comparrison! You're not even looking for a relationship right now! This is a nightmare! You just wanted to focus on yourself. That's why you started going to the gym.

Oh god, what do you do!? You stare at your drink for a while, the silence thickening by the second. "I...uh...." You want to go home and hide under your sheets. How will you ever face him again? It's over. No more gym buddy. He looks down at you, his smile and hopeful eyes fading. You... don't want him. You don't want him!? But...he's perfect for you...and you for him!

He doesn't understand why you could possibly ever not want to be with him. He wordlessly puts his cup down. You just need some convincing is all. You look up at him. He can see emotions swirling around in your eyes. He stands up to his full height, casting a shadow over you. "(Y/n),... change your mind." His tone is eerily calm.

"But...I wanna focus on.. myself-" He cuts you off. "No! I will focus on you. That's what you need. I will take care of you. I'm dedicated to you. It has to be claer by now that I want you." He takes the cup from your hands and sets it down before pulling you up by your arm and forcing you deeper into the apartment.

"Huh? What? N-no, where are we going? Stop! I wanna go home!" You cry, trying to struggle out of his grip, the grip of the arms four times the size of yours. You notice now just how big he is. Hes...massive. Taller than most men...broad shoulders, a large frame, and incredibly muscular. Your face pails. You... can't stop him. You were right to be nervous to come here!

He drags you into his room, making you sit on his bed. He doesn't open the lights, but from the moonlight shining in from the window, you can see the glinting of his hungry eyes looking down at you. His chest heaves. He feels fuzzy and lightheaded as he looks down at you...all his blood...has shot right down to his cock.

He can't think of anything but the way your thighs meet at that special crevice that he wants to explore. You're probably still sweaty from the workout... he's trembling at the thought of your soft body pressed against his toned self.

He pushes your upper body down a bit too hard and splits your legs apart, settling himself between them before leaning down. Your faces so close. You turn your face away, which just makes him get even closer to you, his nose touching your cheek, his breath fanning over you. With him in between your legs, you can feel the heat emanating from his crotch as it presses into yours. You whimper under him and he groans a bit. His cock has never been so engored before. Its unbarable.

"Please...take off your clothes...I don't want to hurt you on accident," he breathes, using all the remaining blood in his head to think straight, trying to control himself. You shake your head. "I-I can't!" Not a second after you speak, his hands grip your poor clothes and rip them to shreds like paper. He's wanted to do that to your workout clothes for a long time. They were always taunting him with the way they squeeze your ass or the way your pussy shows through the crotch area a bit when you're bent.

You suck in a breath to scream, hoping one of his neighbors would hear you, but he covers your mouth with his palm just in time, muffling your cry. "Shhh shhh... it's ok shh. I've got you," he coos, trying to calm you. Your chest heaves up and down as tears stream down your cheeks. Your face feels like its burning.

He replaces his hand with his lips and kisses you gently. You continue sobbing quietly into the kiss, not wanting any of this. He doesn't cover your mouth after he lifts his lips from yours. Hope for getting another opportunity dies within you as he stuffs your underwear into your mouth and ties it shut with the drawstring of his shorts tightly behind your head.

He kisses your cheek and stays right there for a moment, just breathing in your scent. You decide now is a good time to at least try fighting him with everything you've got. You headbutt him in the face, sending his head back a bit. He grunts in pain and looks back at you with a blaze in his eyes. A trickle of blood escapes his nose. He wipes it off with the back of his hand. He shuts his eyes for a second, trying to maintain his patience. He sighs. He's trying his hardest to be nice with you.

He places a finger on your chin, turning you to face him. When you refuse to face him and turn your head in defiance, he grips your cheeks roughly and forces you to face him. His eyes are stern. "Bunny, I don't want to hurt you." Is all he says. You dont take his threat lightly. He looks more than happy to actually hurt you. You don't believe for a second that he's being honest about not wanting to hurt you.

He lowers his shorts with his free hand, taking your silence as compliance. You see the bulge in his shorts reveal itself to be a monstrous size when free. It's..scary. It slams against your bare pussy lips. It's heavy, thick and demanding attention. It's veiny underside is burning you.

You swallow hard, trying to wiggle out from underneath it. You don't make it far trapped beneath him with nowhere to go. Your hands are free, but every time you try to do anything, he swats them away and.. after his previous threat, you don't want to know what will happen if you annoy him enough.

His hand comes down to your cunt and plays with your lower lips. He releases your face, knowing you'll behave. You writhe underneath him, pathetically kicking and pushing at his hand down there. His other hand grabs your wrist and and squeezes it and a painful grip, looking dead in your eyes as he continues to play with your cunt.

Another tear slips down your cheek. He softens his grip a bit before leaning down to kiss your tears away. Your tear-stained face, the way you whimper and your face scrunches in discomfort..is doing things to him. He's learned something new about himself just now. He wants to be inside you so bad, but he knows he'd tear you in two, even with all his precum.

Your gasp as he flicks your sensitive pearl. He can't help but chuckle. Without any warning, he slips his index finger inside your cunt and relishes in the warm wetness hugging it tightly. He just wants you wet enough to take him without too much pain. He just needs to be more patient, but... it's so hard with you making all those cute expressions.

"Pleath shtop..I..." The muffled words you were trying to produce disappear in a cloud of smoke as he curls his finger upwards into your spongy walls. Fuck. He loves when you beg him to stop. You moan so cutely. Your pussy twitches around him. He bites his lip. You're.. wet enough. It's fine, it'll fit. He can't wait anymore.

He lines his fat cock up with your cunt and slides it up and down your shimmering folds. "W-wai-" He cuts you off by sliding the head of his cock in. It's so fucking tight. He grunts and can't help but sink himself further in. He feels like he's going mad.

He bucks his hips forward, meeting resistance. Your cervix. He pushes forward still, eventually managing to bottom out, the shape of his cock making an appearance in your lower stomach. Your cunt needs to know his shape for next time. It's a good thing he stuffed your mouth because you've been screaming and crying like crazy. "I'm sorry, bunny. I didn't mean to hurt you. I got a bit ahead of myself. I'll be more gentle." He kisses your nose, his cock driving in and out slowly.

You're sopping wet now, the two of you can hear your insides gushing when he pushes in. You're so embarrassed. The pleasure is undeniable. You scratch his back as he pressed in again, his hips meeting yours snuggly. You can't hold it anymore! you let out a long whine as you cum, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He moans, driving his cock in and out, rapidly pounding your cunt into a fine paste. You come down from your high as he's still churning your insides and cry out again. You're too sensitive now!

You tap on his shoulder, but it garners no response. He lifts your legs and presses them back into your chest, getting even deeper. He's pounding into you like a wild animal. You feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten. Your nails dig into his back, your eyes crossing as you come again. He grunts as you tighten around him once more.

He thrusts into you so deep that you can see the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach even more than before. Your cervix needs an ice pack. He grips your waist, emptying the largest load he's ever cum. You're so tired. He continues pumping himself into you lazily. He rests his body weight on you, squishing you and pressing his still-hard cock against your stuffed insides.

Cum leeks past his cock onto the damp bedsheets. He pants, looking down at you. "I love you (y/n)," he says with the most love struck expression you've ever seen. You look like an angel to him. All you can do is twitch and bask in the afterglow of what he did. His cock began to completely re-harden at the beautiful sight he created before him.

You're no longer gym buddies, that's for sure. Thanks to him, you might be parents. You should have just accepted his feelings when you had the chance. Now your guts are filled and you're trapped under him with your knees by your head. What a workout.

[wannabespiderman]

Man vs machine

Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English so I'm slightly nervous to post this but I couldn't get this idea out of my head so... I hope you enjoy :)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Just an old man confused about modern technology.

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You were walking past the living room door when a discontented grunt caught your attention. You took two steps back to crane your neck past the half-closed door. Bucky was sitting on the sofa, leaning over the living room table, which looked like a toddler’s table compared to him, his face illuminated by the bright screen of his new laptop that you’ve bought him not too long ago. His eyebrows were tightly knit together when he mumbled a quiet curse. You turned around, a curious expression on your face as you walked through the door.

"You okay, baby?" you asked and promptly sat down next to him. Bucky gave you an inscrutable look before turning his eyes back to the screen. “Where the hell do I find my emails?” he asked in frustration. A sudden laugh escaped you. You should have realized that a 106 year old man who had little to do with electronics would have some trouble with a laptop. Bucky gave you a displeased look with a slight, unconcious pout appearing on his face. “Click on the internet icon.” You spoke softly, willing to help. Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I don’t need the internet, I need my emails.” You stayed silent for a moment, slightly baffled by his words. Just last week you took the effort to set up a Google account with him and you were pretty sure he had paid attention then. “Bucky.” You said an amused huff escaping you. “Your e-mail is connected to the Internet. Just click on the icon.” Bucky clicked his tongue in annoyance to cover his slight embarrassment and went back to staring at the desktop. He was definitely taking his time, and at one point you doubted he knew what an icon was. “Need any help?” you asked as kindly as you could, though the sight of Bucky squinting his eyes like a real old man made your voice sound rather amused. With an exhausted sigh, Bucky leaned back against the seat back and rubbed his face, his shoulders visibly slumping. “You do it.”

You snort, but immediately apologize after he gives you an exceptionally grumpy look. “You can do it.” You said encouragingly, giving him a small smile. Bucky rolled his eyes, but relented and bent over the laptop again. You shuffled closer to it so you could see the screen properly, and the little orange and blue Firefox icon literally jumped out at you. You pointed your finger at it and looked at it again. “Just click on this one.”

You tried to be patient with him, really, and actually he did exactly what you said, but you couldn’t hold back the little sigh that left your mouth as he moved the cursor over the Firefox icon and clicked. Once. “Okay.” You mumbled, rubbing your eye. Apparently, you needed to be more specific. "This time you click twice." Another brief but piercing look from Bucky before he actually double-clicked and the browser opened. You sent a quick thank you to the heavens before instructing him to type the url into the search tab and cringed silently when he started typing with both of his pointer fingers. Right this second you decided to teach him how to properly type with all ten of his fingers later. A few more instructions later, probably a little more than usually necessary, he reached the Google log-in site.

“I assume you can handle the rest?” It was supposed to be a statement but your voice shifted into a question at the end.

He hummed quietly in affirmation, though his brow was still furrowed as if this whole thing was incredibly complicated which, to be honest… it probably was for him. You pressed your lips together, a slight sting of guilt coursing through you, your previous amusement and frustration about his hardship completely vanishing. One second you were quietly sat next to him and the other you had your arms wrapped around his bicep and your head leaning on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about laughing earlier.” You whispered, almost too quiet for him to understand if he weren’t a Super-Soldier and had enhanced hearing. “I know it’s new for you.” Bucky tried to shrug it off but you saw how his eyes softened when he tilted his head to look down at you. A sudden, quiet chuckle escaped him, making you quirk an eyebrow in curiosity.

“You’d think, as a Cyborg, I’d be better at this.”

[pedroscurls]

Always Been You (Part 2).

Character(s): no-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader Summary: You and Joel go back to your apartment. Word count: 2,397 Author's Note: I just want to express my gratitude to everyone that's read the first part of this story! I just wanted to let you all know that this is going to be a very slow, slow-burn... so pls be patient with me lol🫶 Warning: None. SERIES MASTERLIST

You and Joel made it back to downtown, but it was quieter now as you walked towards your closed coffee shop. You grabbed your keys and unlocked the door, looking over your shoulder at Joel who had a confused look on his face.

“Wait, you own Jesse’s?” Joel asked, stepping foot inside your coffee shop once you held the door open for him.

“I do, yeah.” You smiled, shutting the door behind him and locking it securely before you closed the blinds and turned the lights on. You watched as Joel rested his hands on his hips, looking around the empty coffee shop with an impressed look. 

It was cozy, small, and the string lights dangled from the ceiling. Your coffee shop had white brick walls with the name of your coffee shop, Jesse’s, painted on one of the walls along with a photograph of you and your grandfather underneath it. There were two small rounded tables on one side of the wall and on the other side was a full-length cushioned bench with several more rounded tables. To the left of your front door was a small bar table with a single barstool, which usually gave a perfect view of downtown; that specific seat seemed to always be taken. 

As you led Joel further into the coffee shop, you stepped behind the counter and looked over at him. 

“I can’t believe you own this coffee shop.”

“I’m guessing you’ve come here before?” 

Joel nodded. “Tommy and I like to come here for a pick-me-up during our lunch.”

“That’s good to know,” you smiled. “What would you like to drink?” 

“I’m fine with just black coffee, but you don’t–”

“You bought me a milkshake, burgers, and fries… It’s the least I can do. How about I make you an Americano instead?” 

Joel smiled. “I’m fine with whatever you make me, darlin’.” 

He leaned against the counter and watched you work the espresso machine. Joel was amazed by you. You were taking your time, fully focused on pulling the shots of espresso. He watched you grab a mug and placed the finished shots inside of it and added hot water. You handed it over to him and smiled, stepping out from behind the counter before you led him towards the back of the coffee shop and towards a door that led upstairs to your apartment. 

You turned the lights off and unlocked the door, leading him upstairs as he held the mug carefully in his hands. Now at your front door of your apartment, you unlocked it and led him inside, immediately removing your heels. 

“Convenient,” he pointed out. Joel removed his shoes and followed you further into your apartment, biting his lower lip as he watched you walk barefoot across your space to turn the rest of the lights on. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’m going to change really quickly.” 

Joel nodded, taking a seat on your couch that was placed against the wall. He bit his lower lip and took a careful sip of the coffee, careful not to burn his tongue. He let out a contented breath when he tasted the dark liquid, smiling to himself before he set it on your coffee table. After a few minutes, you appeared from the small hallway, now dressed in a pair of dark gray pajama pants and a cropped t-shirt that sat just right above the waistband of your pants. Joel couldn’t help but let his eyes rake over your frame, finding you even more beautiful in this normal, casual attire. 

“How’s the coffee?” you asked.

“Amazing, like always.” 

You sat next to him, smiling to yourself as you reached for his mug, taking a careful sip. You nodded in agreement and set it back down on the coffee table, biting your lower lip as you looked over at him. 

“Listen,” you began. “I just want to thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to do all of this. We just met and–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joel interrupted. “I didn’t think my night would end up like this, but I’m glad it did.” 

“Really?” you asked, biting your lower lip. “I’m a mess…”

“Who isn’t?” Joel chuckled. “I know we just met, darlin’, but I kinda do like hanging out with you.” 

You smiled and brought your legs up underneath you, leaning against the back of your couch. “I like hanging out with you too.” 

Joel smiled to himself. “So, why the name Jesse’s?” 

You bit your lower lip and looked down at your lap for a brief moment. “Um, it’s named after my grandpa. Before he passed, he told me to open the coffee shop that I have always dreamt of opening.” 

“And coffee is something you’ve always been interested in?”

You nodded. “I had my first cup of coffee at twelve. I sneaked and took a sip from my grandpa’s mug one morning and ever since then, I was always interested in the taste of coffee, how to make coffee, literally everything about it… Anyway, I got my first job at fifteen at a coffee shop and fell in love with it.” 

“The customers don’t annoy you?” Joel asked. 

“I mean,” you laughed. “I think every job has those annoying customers, right? But, I can understand that there are a few people out there who are very particular with their coffee. Besides, I’ve always liked a challenge.” 

Joel smiled to himself. He found himself wanting to hear you talk more and more about yourself. As a comfortable silence consumed the both of you, Joel reached over to grab the mug, taking a long sip of his coffee. He watched you turn your body to face him, resting your cheek against the back of the couch as your eyes slowly fell shut. It was odd how comforting this was, how normal it felt; Joel just met you and here he was, already imagining life with you. Gently, he set his coffee mug down back on the coffee table which caused you to open your eyes, staring up at him with sadness written all over your features. 

“Am I unlovable?” you asked quietly, the thoughts now coming back full force. Your eyes dropped to your lap, biting your lower lip as you shook your head to yourself. “Am I not enough? Four years… Gone like that.”

Joel let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t know how to comfort you, didn’t know what to say to make you feel better, so instead, he just listened. He gave you his full and undivided attention, slowly scooting closer to you. He could see the tears spilling over, watching you wipe them away messily. 

“I should have seen it coming,” you whispered. “He had been taking more work trips lately and–” your breath caught in your throat and when you looked up at Joel, you noticed the soft brown eyes staring right back at you. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t–”

“Stop,” Joel said. “You’re okay, darlin’.” 

“Everywhere I look, I’m just reminded of him and my heart breaks all over again.” you whispered, voice trembling. “I thought– I thought he was the one.” 

Joel bit his lower lip and hesitantly scooted closer to you until mere inches separated both your bodies. He reached out to gently tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to look up at him with teary-filled eyes. He felt something twist in his chest, a feeling that he hadn’t felt in so long and he just wanted to pull you into his arms and protect you from the world. He had just met you a few hours ago and here he was, staring at you with a longing look in his eyes and a feeling that he thought he would never feel again.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” you mumbled, voice trembling as you looked up at him. “Why couldn’t I have been enough for him?”

Joel didn't know how to respond, didn't know how to make you feel better, so instead, he dropped his hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He was expecting you to push him away, to wipe your tears and tell him that you were fine, but he was surprised nonetheless when you leaned into him, burying your face against the crook of his neck. He let out a quiet breath and used his other arm to wrap around you, feeling your tears stain his shirt as you quietly cried into him. 

“Shh,” he whispered, using one hand to gently rub your back. “It’s okay, darlin’, it’s okay.”

“Why didn’t he love me enough to–” your breath caught in your throat and you finally curled into Joel– a stranger you just met a few hours ago and who was holding you as you cried over your ex-boyfriend. But you couldn’t stop the pain, no matter how hard you tried to block it out, it always came rushing back. 

Joel was confused with the feelings that came over him: a sense of protectiveness, a sudden urge to shield you from all the pain you were feeling, an immediate desire to make sure you were taken care of, and an unexplainable longing that settled in the pit of his stomach. 

But despite the feelings that were beginning to stir inside of him, Joel kept his hold on you. He held you as you continued to cry, continued to tremble against him, and he would only tighten his hold around you even further. A couple of minutes passed when you pulled away, only to wipe your tears away. He watched you carefully, eyes locked on you, and ready at a moment’s notice to pull you back into his arms again if needed. 

Slowly, you raised your eyes to gaze up at him. Joel was staring at you with soft, concern-filled eyes. There was an odd sense of comfort that you felt when you were around him; it wasn’t what you were used to. In fact, you were the person who had been the source of comfort for many of your friends and ex-boyfriends, and it surprised you at how you were yearning for more of this feeling, especially from him. 

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess. I’m sure that this wasn’t how you wanted the night to go,” you mumbled, tearing your eyes away from him and pulling away to create some distance between the both of you. 

Joel immediately shook his head. “It’s definitely a night to remember,” he teased. 

You managed to crack a smile and Joel felt accomplished, felt proud of himself that he was able to cheer you up, even for the briefest of moments. He didn’t know what to do with this feeling, the craving to make you smile or to make you laugh. 

“Usually, guys like to go home with girls who aren’t a crying mess,” you shrugged. “I’m sorry I couldn’t–”

“Stop,” Joel interrupted. “I ain’t like that and somethin’ tells me you ain’t like that either, darlin’.”

“I’m not,” you replied. “But–”

“But nothin’. I’m just glad I get some personal time with the owner of my favorite coffee shop,” he winked. 

“Oh, favorite coffee shop?” 

Joel grinned. “One of the best.” 

“See, now you’re just being too nice.”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “But also because your coffee is one of the best I’ve ever had and now I have more of a reason to stop by.” 

“Oh, and what’s that?” 

“There’s a chance I’ll get to see you again.”

You blushed, gently shoving his shoulder as you bit your lower lip, staring down at your lap. You had gotten so comfortable in your relationship with your ex-boyfriend that a simple compliment from a man you just met made your cheeks turn red and the warm sensation fluttering within you. 

“Well, not only do you know where I work, but you also know where I live, so… If you did want to see me again, you know where to find me.” 

“And would that be okay?” Joel asked. “Seeing you again? Maybe do this under better circumstances. Dinner maybe?” 

You bit your lower lip. It was obvious that you were both attracted to each other, but you had to wonder if the alcohol you both drank tonight helped with the attraction. You couldn’t believe that someone that looked like Joel would ever be attracted to you; your confidence and self-esteem had decreased over the years while being with your ex-boyfriend, and it certainly didn’t help when you found out that he had been cheating on you.

But while you were attracted to Joel and could see yourself with him, you weren’t sure you were ready to jump straight back into another relationship, or even think about starting to date. You had been so focused on being there for your ex-boyfriend, supporting him with whatever he needed, that you had lost yourself in the relationship. Finding out that he had been cheating on you has broken you and you were sure that it was going to take a long time before things got better. 

“Um,” you said with a sigh. 

Joel cleared his throat. “I misread this whole thing, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He was about to stand from your couch before you reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. He looked over at you, tightening his jaw as he felt completely embarrassed. “Forget I said anything…”

“No, it’s not that,” you replied. “I just– I’m broken, Joel. My relationship with Robert wasn’t great even before finding out that he was cheating on me. I kind of just want to… Find myself again. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but–”

Joel nodded in understanding. He knew that asking you out for dinner would have been too soon, especially after knowing what you were going through; he didn’t know what he was thinking. “It makes sense,” he replied. 

“But,” you continued. “I would like it if you stuck around… You know, in my life at least? I feel– I feel safe with you and it’s been a very long time since I’ve felt this way. I mean, you barely know me so I don’t expect much, but I would very much like it if we became friends after this.”

The corner of his lips turned upwards and he nodded. “I’d really like that, darlin’.” 

---

prev. - next.

[ateezreactionsandscenarios]

The Regular

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Fluff

CW: None

Word Count: 1837

Summary: You always remember a regulars face and order but there’s one regular you’ll never forget and when he doesn’t turn up for a while it leaves you worrying.

Part of StayTeez Trope’pril

Prompt List        Series Masterlist       MasterList         Buy me a Coffee

It was another usual day at the cafe, the bustling morning, a moment of piece and then chaos again as soon as lunch rolls around. Despite being rushed off your feet you still try your hardest to have a bright smile on your face and a welcoming attitude. You were always praised for being one of the best workers in the shop, your dedication to the job and how well you got along with the customers, even the difficult ones, made you one of the most recognised employees. You were on a first name basis with all the regulars apart from one who just so happened to be your favourite.

It was 1pm and Hongjoong was running through the rain to the cafe for his daily black coffee and muffin. He’s learnt that by the time he gets there the que has died down and the lunch rush has come to an end, giving him more time to have a small chat with you if you were working, which was always his favourite part of his day. 

Stepping inside he smiles to himself as he sees you at the coffee machine and he’s so glad you’ve got your back to him or you’d see how much he was smiling like a child. Turning around you notice him in the doorway and gave him a quick welcome smile before handing a coffee to your customer. 

“The usual, black coffee and a muffin?” You ask as he approaches the till.

“Am I that predictable?” He laughs fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

“I never forget a regulars order.” You smile setting the card machine for him so you can make the coffee.

“That bad huh?” You laugh wiping the droplets falling from his hair off the counter.

“Oh, sorry, yeah I don’t know where it’s come from, one minute it was fine the next I’m getting drenched head to toe.”

“Well lets hope this warms you up.” You slide him his coffee over and he smiles wrapping his cold hands around the warm cup while you go off to get his muffin. He takes a second to look around, noticing no one else was lining up for coffee, giving him a bit more time to talk to you.

“Busy day?”

“So-so, the usual rush, clam, rush sort of dynamic, lucky you though you always pick to come in when it settles down again.” You laugh handing him his muffin. 

“I prefer it when it’s quiet, I can get some work done and talk to you.” You blush slightly at his light flirt, not knowing if you should play into it or not. You had to admit, although he came across as quiet and often times shy, he really had a way with words and would always say something that stuck in your head. That’s why he’s the regular you remember the most.

“I’m sure you say that to all the baristas you talk to.” You joke, trying your hardest to hide how giddy it made you feel.

“I guess I do, since you’re the only barista I talk to.” Oh he was so smooth, it took you off guard and you couldn’t help but stand there a little stunned. You were thankfully saved by another customer walking in, catching both your and Hongjoong’s attention.

“I’ll let you get back to work, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shoots you a sweet yet cheeky smile before heading out the door, leaving you to wonder for the rest of your shift if he was genuinely flirting with you or if that’s just how he is.

The next day you waited patiently to see him walk through the door again. You were ready this time, any flirts or sweet comments he’d possibly throw your way today you were ready for, silently building your confidence up as time went on, but he never showed up. It came to closing time and you hadn’t seen even a glimpse of him, it didn’t bother you too much though, you just assumed he must have been busy or not felt in the mood for a coffee and muffin.

Now it had been a week and you were starting to get a tad bit worried. The first two days you didn’t think much of it, even though the highlight of your shift didn’t turn up you knew it wasn’t the end of the world, but now it was coming up to a week and no sign of him. 

You’d started asking your co-workers if he’d come in lately and at first they didn’t know who you were talking about since you still didn’t know his name, it wasn’t until you described him to them did they realise who you were talking about and even then they hadn’t seen him. 

Your mood had decreased considerably, you tried to keep your cheerful, welcoming smile on but it wavered from time to time when you’d look over to the door and see someone walk in who wasn’t him. You were starting to wonder if he’d found a new coffee shop to go to, one he liked more than your one and you found yourself getting more upset than you expected to over the though of him treating another barista like he treated you. All you wanted at this point was a brief look at him as he walked past the window...but nothing.

You’d given up waiting for him. It was clear to you that he wasn’t coming and you didn’t want to keep your hopes up any longer and as it was it was 15 minutes before closing time, he wasn’t turning up now. The last of the customers were heading out leaving you in an empty cafe on your own to clean up. 

You were in your own world wiping down tables and taking trays of empty cups and plates to the back, only snapping out of it when you heard the bell on the door chime as someone walked in.

“Sorry were clo...” You stop mid sentence as you see the familiar face you grew to miss. He was jogging up to the counter almost like he was in a rush.

“I know I’m sorry, I just wanted to pop in for a bit, I’ll be out of your hair soon I promise.” You couldn’t just shoo him out now, you hadn’t seen him for a week and you’d be dammed if you were kicking him out now.

“It’s okay, do you want to stay while I close up.” 

“I can’t do that to you, I’ll just be in your way.” 

“It’s no problem at all I just need to run the dishwasher and wipe down the counter and coffee machine and I’m done.” You say with a smile making your way over to the coffee machine to quickly make his usual order and fish out the muffin you’d had stashed away all day in hopes he’d come in for it. 

“Thank you.” He smiles, pulling out his wallet which you quickly wave at him telling him to put it back.

“It’s on the house.”

“No, I can’t just take it, I need to pay you.” 

“Call this a thank you for keeping me company while I close up.” Now it was his turn to give a small smile and a faint blush.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, how have you been?” You start as you clean the coffee machine for the second time since closing. He gave a small laugh, smiling to himself at the realisation you’d noticed his absence.

“Yeah, I’ve been up to my eyes preparing for an audition today.” He said quietly, but your ears pricked at the word audition.

“An audition? That’s amazing, how did it go?” His facial expression was enough of an answer for you but he still decided to say anyway.

“Not great, I didn’t get it.” Your heart sinks hearing his normally cheerful tone drop to a seldom one. 

“I know I don’t know much about you but I’m sure those people don’t know what they just let go, you’ll get the next one I’m sure of it, then they’ll really be kicking themselves when they see your name in lights.” His eyes brighten at your statement. He was so overwhelmed with warmth, you were so nice to him yet you barely knew him and he really appreciated it.

“Thank you...umm, sorry I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name.” He says with a tilt of his head.

“Y/n.” You smile.

“Hongjoong.” He introduces himself finally. A pretty name to match a pretty face, and now a pretty name to always remember.

“Thank you y/n, it means a lot you think that way, it’s made me feel a lot better.” He beams taking a sip of his coffee. 

You both have a catch up while you finish up, Hongjoong also lending a hand with some of the cleaning after feeling bad just standing around watching you. With everything clean and back where it should be you both head to the door, pulling your jacket off the coat hanger as you go past. Once outside you lock up and take a deep breath preparing you for what you were about to say, internally worrying about how he’d take it.

“You know Hongjoong, I really missed you while you were away, it didn’t feel the same when you didn’t come in for your daily coffee.” You didn’t want to look at him at first, the silence from him was too loud for you to bear. Did you just mess up big time? 

“I missed you too y/n.” You look up at him with big eyes, not expecting him to feel the same.

“Really?” He nods in reply, giggling slightly at your surprised reaction.

“I don’t know if you noticed but you’re the reason I come here.” You were speechless, you didn’t quite know where this was going but you wanted to find out.

“Me? Why?” 

“You brighten my day, just like today, I was down about not passing the audition and here you are and I feel like it never happened, I just wish I could get to know you more.” The butterflies in your stomach were going insane. The cute regular you’d developed a small crush on over time wanted to get to know you, how were you meant to react?

“Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime y/n?” And there it was, the question you could have only dreamt of him asking.

“Like a date?” You ask jokingly, not wanting to seem too eager.

“If you want to call it that.” He jokes back internally hoping you’d agree.

“I’d like that a lot, can I just request one thing?” He takes a step closer to you, tilting his head in curiosity at your request.

“Can it not be a coffee date, I’m sick of the stuff now.” He erupts into a small fit of giggles, completely understanding where you’re coming from.

“Okay, not coffee, how does dinner sound?” 

“I can do dinner.” Your nonchalant facade was fading, the reality that you were going on a date with him was setting in.

“Perfect, can I have your number, I’ll text you the details.”

Tag List:  @stardragongalaxy   @kpopjust4u @whatudowhennooneseesyou @8tinytings   @jenotation @grim-adventures58 @owjohny   @ker1   @tinkerbell460   @haylstoney   @scuzmunkie   @halesandy @multihunbun   @kodzukein   @maskedmochii   @woosannie   @hellomingi

[empty-cryptid]

Since AO3 is struggling at the moment, I'll post this here for now and put it on AO3 later. This is set before "Reading Glasses", a story I wrote some time ago.

Edit: Now posted to AO3! HERE

Step One (Reading Glasses)

When Antonio suddenly appeared beside him and excitedly held up a drawing he did, Bruno tipped backward in surprise. After a breath, he took the picture and held it further away from his face so he could see it properly. "Oh wow, this is great! Is it Chispi?"

"Yeah! Chispi sat and let me draw her even though I can't talk to her right now."

"That was nice of her. I wish my rats would sit still for a portrait. Very nice job, Antonio."

"Thanks, Tío!"

Antonio took his picture back and ran out of the house to show it to the next family member he wanted to see it. All of the Madrigals were in temporary accommodations until Casita was rebuilt, so he was running from house to house.

Pepa watched the interaction with a small smile, happy that her brother is finally back with them and can meet her little boy.

Beside her, Julieta, who usually noticed things first, hummed and lifted an eyebrow. "Bruno, how are your eyes?"

"Hmm?" He looked up, "What do you mean?"

"Well both Pepa and I have reading glasses now, so I was wondering if you also needed some."

"Oh. Hmm, no, I think I'm alright?" Bruno shrugged.

"Somehow I doubt that. Here, try my glasses." 

Julieta handed her glasses to her brother along with a recipe card. "Try reading this without the glasses, then with them."

"Alright." He held the card away from his face at arms length and read it.

Pepa chuckled. "Oh he definitely needs glasses." 

Bruno glanced at her, then placed the blue cat-eye frames on his nose before looking back at the card. "Oh wow."

"Do the glasses help?" Julieta smirked.

"Yeah." Bruno admitted while he looked at the card.

"We'll take you to the optometrist tomorrow."

He suddenly looked nervous as he looked up at her through the lenses, making his already big puppy dog eyes look even bigger. "Why do I have to go? Can't I just use yours sometimes?"

"You have to get a proper check up anyway, and yes that is a requirement, so let's start with the eye doctor. It's the easiest one," Julieta explained.

"It's to make sure you're healthy, Bruno. You've gone too long without a check up. We'll be right there beside you," Pepa said.

"W-well ok…I-I guess if you're there too…but I'm not excited about it." Bruno hunched down and pouted.

"You'll get some reading glasses out of it. With all the reading you do, I think you'll appreciate that," Pepa said.

"F-Fine…"

…

At the optometrists office, Bruno was sat behind a machine while he anxiously fiddled with the edge of his ruana. Julieta put a hand on his shoulder and Pepa smiled at him from the doorway. Having his sisters there with him helped keep him calmer but he was still nervous about leaving Casita.

The doctor came over to him after writing down a few notes. He was warned beforehand to tell his skittish patient what he's going to do before he does it to avoid too much flinching and possible panic by the anxious man.

"Alright let's get this over with, eh?" 

Bruno nodded and offered a pitiful smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"None of this will hurt, but I'm going to get fairly close to you, alright?" The doctor explained.

"O-o-okay…" Bruno stuttered. He released his ruana so he could cross his fingers. While in the office, he wasn't allowed to throw salt around in order to keep the equipment safe.

The whole process went smoothly besides a few of Bruno's more intense flinches knocking the equipment. The doctor calmly reset what was bumped and continued.

"How does that look?"

"That…that looks, um, clear. I-I can read it."

"Is this better?"

"Y-Yes."

After a few more tests, Bruno was free to go. He was thoroughly done with everything and hid underneath his hood while his sisters took over for him. They showed him a few frames they liked and he picked one after trying them on. Finally, he was taken home.

Bruno was completely exhausted from the whole ordeal, so he decided to take a nap in the borrowed room he shared with his sisters. The triplets refused to be separated for the first month at least.

…

A week later, at a picnic lunch with the whole family, Pepa presented a package and gave it to Bruno. 

"This arrived today." She pushed it into his hands and waited eagerly for him to open it.

He started to open it while the rest of the family watched curiously. The box held his new reading glasses. He pulled them out and tried them on, shyly smiling at his family.

A smattering of compliments and little jabs about getting old came from his various family members. 

"When did you go get your eyes checked?" Alma asked.

"Um, last week."

"We noticed he might need them when he was holding everything at arm's length," Pepa giggled.

"Turns out he has the worst eyes of the three of us," Julieta informed them.

Everyone processed that information quietly, knowing a few factors probably contributed to that before Félix broke the silence. "Lookin' good Bruno! You'll find it much easier to read now." He held up his own glasses that were usually sitting in his shirt pocket.

"Thanks," Bruno said with a smile. He put his glasses away and hugged his sisters. "Thanks for helping me."

"You're welcome, now eat hermano, you need to put on some weight." Julieta said as she filled his plate.

Pepa put a hat on his head. "And tell us if you're getting too hot, you're so pale you'll burn easily. Here, drink more water."

Bruno laughed then, thoroughly happy to be back with his family. The emotions overflowed into tears and he started crying. Both of his sisters hugged him tightly and he let it all out.

"I'm so sorry! I love you so much, I'm sorry!" Bruno wailed.

"It's ok, Bruno. We're here, let it go." Pepa said as she rubbed his back.

"We love you too, hermano. We love you so much." Julieta squeezed him and kissed his cheeks.

After a while, he calmed down and uttered one last apology, embarrassed at the display.

Agustín replaced the hat that fell off his head and said, "Don't worry about it. Everyone needs a moment sometimes."

Julieta stuffed a buñuelo into his mouth, effectively breaking any tension. "Now eat, you're too scrawny." 

So he did. They all got their fill of the good food and pleasant conversation, just enjoying the afternoon together. Camilo and Mirabel started a fútbol game and all the kids formed teams.

"C'mon, join us!" Camilo called to the adults still sitting comfortably.

"You guys have fun, we'll enjoy watching you!" Félix replied.

"You guys are no fun." Camilo rolled his eyes as he returned to the game.

"I'm far too stuffed to run around right now…" Bruno sighed tiredly.

"Get used to it, I'm going to put some weight back on you." Julieta said with determined finality.

"'M not complaining, I missed warm food," Bruno flinched, "Sorry…"

"No need to be sorry. We talk about things now," Alma said. She briefly looked at her daughters for confirmation and got two nods before returning to her book.

Pepa put a book in one of Bruno's hands and a glass of water in the other. "It's hot, drink more water. Now, this book is one I thought you would enjoy. I read it a few months ago and instantly thought of you."

After drinking his water, Bruno looked at the cover and turned it over to read the back. He held it out at arm's length for a moment before Pepa put his glasses on for him. 

"Oh, right…heh." Bruno chuckled at himself and brought the book closer. "Hey this looks pretty good! Thanks!" He immediately opened it up and started reading it. 

Julieta put an arepa into his hand and he automatically started nibbling on it, lost in the story. She and Pepa stifled their giggles at that before turning to watch their kids play their game. 

…

Bruno got used to pulling out his glasses eventually. He lost them sometimes and usually found them on his head where he had forgotten about them. 

The glasses caused Pepa to notice his colour was returning to the healthy dark olive tone he was supposed to have. He had gotten some tan lines where the arms of his glasses sat along the sides of his head from reading outside for hours on end. 

He had a much easier time seeing his sobrinos' drawings, writings, and whatever else they wanted to show him. He didn't notice the intricate detail of Mirabel's designs or the subtle additions of tiny rats on Chispi's back in Antonio's drawing before getting the glasses.

Some months later, they even contributed to Julieta noticing her determination was starting to pay off when he lifted his shirt to clean them, revealing the start of healthy weight returning to his middle. 

Bruno appreciated the glasses for allowing him to read comfortably, his family enjoyed seeing the positive changes in him. That visit to the eye doctor started him on his path to health and reconnecting with his family one small step at a time.

👓 💚 👓 💚 👓 💚 👓 💚 👓 💚 👓

[beast-towers]

Meanwhile…

Once the teens had their rest, they quickly set off. Eleanor guiding the brothers and Ein through the metal halls, looking at the map as she pointed out: “Next stop, the… Eh? Am I looking at this right?…” She looked back to made sure to read what she was reading, causing one of the brothers to peak over her shoulder.

“Yep, Tickler.” Tobias said, making Eleanor very confused about this..

“Why that one? Isn’t that a bit too… well… invading personal space?” She shivered as she puts the map away. “I am uncomfortable if they try anything like that…”

“We can understand that Ellie. But if I remember, it aims to tickle ya until you smile. I swear to what ever god out there if they do that… wait-” Thomas had the realization as a small chuckle escaped. “Ha! Jokes on them, me and Toby are freaking bricks!”

“Oh yeah! I remember Abuela tried to playfully tickle us when we were six years old. To this day I can still feel that sadness.” Toby felt sad for his grandmother from that day. Yet happy memories did surfaced when his and Tom’s father was with them, how they had such a wonderful time… until…

Toby quickly snapped out of it as he felt Ein nuzzling his leg. “Hey, I’m good. Thanks for checking up on me bud! Ellie, is Ein always like this?”

“No, usually he’ll be on my side so people won’t distract him. I guess when we were taken, he’s been on guard.” She spoke, seeing Ein then walk up to Thomas. Who stopped and softly pinched the Shiba’s cheeks.

“I forgot how squishy and stretchy ya guys are!~ ¡Oh, es tan lindo!” Cooed Thomas, while Ein is being very patient and allowed Thomas to stretch his face. “Good doggy!~ Okay… Ellie, how far are we?” He looked up and saw it. Tickler section. Feeling a bit of fear for what they’re getting into.

“Round 2…. But this time, we can fight. Let’s roll.” Thomas spoke, as the four entered the next section. It wasn’t long enough before they heard machines humming and more developing advocates laughing. “Uuuggghh… I hate this already…” Thomas shivered with unease.

“Same here bro…” Toby took a look into the cells, and yelped in shock as a woman crashed herself on the door. “GAAHH!!”

“You! Dog! You are a real dog, yes?!” She spoke, looking in a mix of herself and Marmalized. “Who is the owner of this Guardian?!”

“M-Me?….” Eleanor nervously spoke, causing Ein to get in front of her to protect Eleanor. “I’m his owner… He is my service and guard dog… are… are you-”

“I don’t have time! Neither do you four! Please take this! Hound, protect those who cannot protect themselves! Honor, Duty, Loyalty, Wisdom, Knowledge, Faith, Justice, and Brotherhood will forever be your weapons…” She dropped a beaded necklace outside of her prison, Eleanor quickly grabbing it and held onto it. “I’ve made sure to hold onto this family treasure. A heirloom! I and my family helped raised hounds to become Canine Warriors… Your Hound will fight until his time is up…. Now go! Run! They are coming!”

The group were confused, but on high alert now… and rightfully so, as Ein growled angrily and protectively as two MOJ guards appeared.

“Oh? Hey! Aren’t those the trouble makers? We didn’t expect all of you to be here! Please come along with us nicely!~” One happily spoke, causing the teens to back away from the two. While both Tom and Toby had their instruments out and ready.

“Oh don’t be scared!~ We won’t hurt any of you… Well… May be the Ministry’s Top bests in Marmalisation, but they won’t hurt you!~” the two began to walked forward, but noticed Ein. Now in front of the group as he delivered barks… but for the two guards, they’ve completely melted with Joy.

“AWW!!~ So! So! SO Cute!~ Hey there little guy! Oh my goodness!!~ I didn’t know a cute puppy was here!! Oh I hope you stay here to help make the world a happy place!”

“Look at his adorable face! Such a sweetheart! I must pinch those flexible cheeks!!~” Said the second Guard as he happily pinched Ein’s squishy cheeks.

The three and Woman were very dumbfounded, but Ein took this as an advantage and allowed the two men to touch him. He honestly hated it, but this was the teens’ chance. Toby and Tom noticed what Ein was doing as they whacked the two men on their heads, knocking them out cold.

“Huh…. I’m surprised you four are very prepared for this…” the Woman spoke with astonishment by their teamwork. “Still, you cannot stay here. And make sure your guardian keeps those beads with him…”

“Not… Not really…” Eleanor then looked over to the woman. “You look very familiar…. Before we go, may I know your name?…”

“I….I-I sadly can’t remember…hehehe…. They gave me a new one… Jovial… 64% from being Marmalized… kids, you must keep going….” A part of her was ready to laugh, but held it in, not wanting to scare them.

“We can at least free you! You are not going to rot away here!” Thomas spoke, pickpocketing the guards to find their key cards and keys. “You can still have the will to resist them. Jo, or whoever you are, this is your chance to rebel against them.” Thomas unlocked the door and opened it, seeing inside… he felt great sadness and fear… the woman was covered in scars and some blood, it looked like she just escaped from her binds. Looking further in the room, a machine that almost looks like it could be part of a car wash… “Is this… how they do it?…”

“Yes… but please, go… I don’t want to bring you all more harm… make sure your hound wears those beads… please be safe….” Jovial softly spoke, she was so tired, sick, and mentally falling apart. Causing Thomas, Tobias, and Eleanor looked at each other wish sadness.

“The door will be open. Just know this: The only one who is in control, is you and you alone. No one has the right to erase who you are, you have to keep going. No matter how painful it’ll be, show them why you kept fighting… Show them who you really are.” Thomas spoke to Jovial with a determination and given her a kind smile. She herself didn’t look, but she felt the kindness radiating off from the young man. “Please reconsider it. And thank you for giving Ein a gift. We will remember you.”

The group left to keep going, despite the horrors they’ll face… they had to march on to get their parents back. This made Jovial think deeply about her new choice… leave or stay. As she now looked at the wide open door…

To be continued…

[acasualcrossfade]

It’s On the House

Written for @thefreakandthehair Sping Fanworks Challenge 2023, Prompt: Mud

Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie, Steve and Eddie

Words: 4326

Read this on Ao3 and find me at thunderously_halo over there :)

Summary: Steve works at Ungrounded, Hawkins’s new café in town next to the record store. When a person clad in all black bikes up with a guitar on his back, Steve is intrigued. Through many closing shifts, Steve learns more about the person, Eddie, and eventually helps Eddie after he gets caught in the rain.

--

“Large iced coffee and a chocolate chip loaf, warmed for Megan!” Steve called, holding up the bagged dessert as he slid the freshly made coffee forward. He turned back to the machine to foam milk for the cappuccino. He stepped to the side to let his boss, Keith, place a cup on the pick-up counter.

“Tuesday Special for Hannah!” Keith called.

As much as Steve hated closing shifts, he hated the company-mandated uniform a bit more. The uniform was no more than a tan-colored shirt and jeans, but the shirt was his least favorite. It had the words “Get Ungrounded” written in groovy letters on the front, and had a giant printed coffee bean on the back.

“I’m gunna go on break,” Keith said, scooting past Steve.

Steve sighed, already knowing that was code for I’m leaving, close up on your own . He was used to it by now, and as the last of the evening rush dwindled, Steve felt the familiar peace that came with the closing shift. A few of his evening regulars were already seated at their usual tables; the booths on the side were left empty except for one study group that sometimes came in around finals season.

The quiet of the café was his favorite. As the sun started to set, the streetlights glowed brighter against the dimming sky.

Traffic thinned and bikers were scarce.

Which was why when a biker whizzed past the window, Steve’s head snapped up in surprise. He abandoned all thought of cleaning the next table and watched as the figure on the bike, dressed in all black, gracefully dismounted. It wasn’t until the figure turned to lock their bike that Steve made out the hardback guitar case strapped to their back. The two seemed to move together as one, and Steve was sure if he strapped a guitar on his back, he wouldn’t look like that.

Steve finished wiping down the table before glancing up at the biker again. The figure had removed his helmet and was walking towards the coffeeshop. Their long hair flowed along with them, and Steve suddenly panicked.

Was it cooler to meet him at the counter or greet him at the door?

Why was he suddenly worried about that?

He was saved from having to figure it out as the man headed into the record shop next door.

A rush of relief seeped through Steve, and he went back to cleaning tables.

--

Steve was in the middle of bussing tables when the door opened and a customer walked in. He grabbed the last of the dirty mugs before heading towards the counter.

“One minute,” he called, before setting them all in the sink behind the register. And when Steve looked up, he immediately recognized the man standing at the counter.

It was the biker from earlier.

The biker stood patiently at the counter, taking his time to read the menu and glance at the dessert case. The man looked comfortable in his dark gray shirt and denim jacket, and his skinny black jeans were ripped in the knees. The light breeze from the coffee shop's weak AC blew the man’s flyaway curls around his face and made his features look soft and welcoming. The man carried his guitar case, and had set it down to lean against the counter.  

His brown eyes studied the sweets and he rocked back and forth slowly as he contemplated, then turned his interest to the snacks along the side of the counter.

“What can I get for you?” Steve asked politely, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. It always happened when he was nervous. The man had this gracefulness to him, and Steve automatically felt pulled in by it. His apron suddenly felt crooked and he fought the urge to straighten it.

The man’s gaze traveled from the snacks to the small card of specials next to the register. His brow furrowed as a soft smile played on his quirked lips. “What’s the Tuesday Special?”

“It’s a java chip Frappuccino with strawberry and peppermint drizzle,” Steve explained. “And you can get it with or without whipped cream. It’s pretty popular.”

The man nodded approvingly and spent a moment debating before finally shaking his head. “Another day. But can I grab a chamomile tea instead? Large?”  

Steve typed in the order and then looked up again. “And what’s the name for the order?”

The man shifted to the other leg. “Oh, Eddie is good. E-D-D-I-E, though,” he said, standing on his tip-toes to peek over as Steve wrote on the cup. “Not E-D-D-Y.”

“Gotcha.” Steve wrote it on the cup. Eddie. The name fit him.

“And can you do me a favor?” Eddie asked, his voice going quieter. “Or, well, can I make an order in advance?”

Steve glanced around at the quiet coffee shop before nodding. The evening rush had died down, leaving the coffee shop in a quiet ambience. The evening regulars sipped their coffees and there were a few study groups gathered at some of the tables.

“Yeah, sure. I can also bring it to your table since it’s not too busy,” Steve mentioned.

“That’d be great.  I’m waiting for someone and I want to order for them.” Eddie thought for a moment. “It’ll be a medium hot chocolate with whipped cream with a bit of cinnamon sprinkled over it? And can you bring it in like, 20 minutes or so?”

Steve added a note about the hot chocolate before putting in the order. “So it’s one hot chocolate with whipped cream and a bit of cinnamon,” Steve repeated as Eddie nodded along. “Okay Eddie, I’ll have that ready for you in a bit.” Steve took a handful of crumpled bills from Eddie and handed him his change.  

When Steve handed him his tea, Eddie smiled once more before heading back towards the windows, taking a seat at one of the booths in the far corner.

A few more people trickled in, and Steve watched as a young kid headed to Eddie’s booth. In one hand, the kid held his windbreaker and in the other, a briefcase.

Steve hid his smile as he watched Eddie jump up to greet the kid, pulling him in for a tight hug. He placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder as he spoke to him and Steve watched the young boy nod a few times before hugging Eddie again.

They must know each other pretty well.

It wasn’t until the boy sat down and opened the briefcase that Steve realized it was a case of colored pencils.

The boy fished a few figurines from his jacket pocket and Steve watched as the two started exchanging pencils and erasers. Steve was sidetracked from his watch as a few more students came in for a light night caffeine fix. By the time he glanced back at Eddie and the boy, they were both sketching quietly.

Moving easily through his evening duties, Steve carefully rinsed the dirty mugs and closed up the sticky syrups. He snuck glances at Eddie’s booth more than he should, and each time he saw them, both were in deep concentration.

They pair worked in quiet tandem; the boy shaded something furiously as Eddie sketched quietly. They’d each turn the figurine every now and again to capture it in different stances. And Steve found that Eddie looked most comfortable with one leg hugging his chest, and his other stretched in front of him. There was a quiet, unspoken bond between the two; more than once, Steve caught sight of the boy holding up his drawing and Eddie giving him a high-five and a wide smile.

Work was busy enough to keep Steve at the counter, even though he burned with curiosity to see what they were drawing. Between drawings, they sipped their drinks and at one point, both of them dissolved into giggles at the kid’s whipped cream mustache.

Steve caught the boy’s name as they laughed. Will.

Steve’s finished stacking the clean mugs as laughs burst from the back table. Eddie and Will are giggling over one of Will’s drawings, both talking about something called a Thessalhydra.

Steve made a mental note to look up what a Thessalhydra was.

--

Steve just finished collecting the dirty mugs from the Tuesday evening rush when he caught Eddie walking through the door. Instinctively, he straightened his apron and headed to the counter.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Steve was glad his voice stayed even.

“I’m thinking I want something sweet. Is there anything you’d recommend…” Eddie paused and leaned closer over the counter to peer at the nametag clipped to Steve’s apron. “Anything you’d recommend, Steve?”  Eddie rocked back and forth as he studied the dessert case.

Steve’s ears warmed at the way Eddie said his name. Somehow, Eddie made it sound more melodious than five letters.

“Well,” Steve started. “That chocolate chip loaf is pretty popular, and we’ve got some good donuts, too.” Steve searched the bottom of the case, but shook his head. “Our iced raspberry lemon loaf is good, too, but it looks like we’re sold out.”

Eddie tapped his chin before pointing to the loaf at the top. “I’ll give the chocolate chip loaf a try,” he requested. “And also small mocha.”

Steve smiled. “Good choice.” He took Eddie’s crumpled bills and brought out the man’s order.

“Do you want your loaf warmed?”

Eddie’s face opened into surprise and playfully grasped his chest, pretending to swoon. “I think you just became my hero,” he sighed dramatically before smiling. “I am truly both thankful and amazed such a thing exists.”

Steve waited for Eddie to add an order of hot chocolate like last week, but instead, Eddie handed over a crumpled bill.

“I’ll have that right out for you, Eddie,” Steve said with a nod, and Eddie headed back to his usual table. Instead of colored pencils, Eddie set a worn notebook and pen on the table. Steve could tell that from the way the cover bent upwards, it had been folded and bent backwards multiple times. Eddie settled into his usual perch and started writing.

When Steve brought his mocha and warmed chocolate loaf, Eddie smiled at him with the pen cap wedged between his teeth and Steve felt something warm inside him at the sight.

Steve wondered what he was writing. Could it be songs? Or poetry? He couldn’t dwell on it for long as another few late night students sauntered in. Steve stole a last glance at Eddie, and found he was crossing something out on the page. Steve caught Eddie’s slight frown before turning back to his own evening duties.

Steve glanced up at Eddie once more and found that he’d started gathering his things. As a pair of headlights swung into the parking lot outside, Eddie rushed as he shoved the notebook under his arm and grabbed his guitar. He was almost to the door when he turned to Steve at the counter. “Thanks again for the dessert rec,” Eddie called, and lifted one hand to wave to Steve.

Steve’s ears went warm as he nodded and smiled, raising one hand to wave back.

--

Over the next few weeks, Steve picked up on Eddie’s schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he biked in to teach guitar lessons (Steve saw him chatting with the kid and their parents outside one Tuesday). And Steve learned that Eddie had a specific drink depending on what he was doing there; art with Will meant a large chamomile tea and anything that dealt with the black notebook meant anything caffeinated paired with something sweet. Steve discovered that Eddie loved anything sweet, and it only took two weeks for him to nail down a favorite pastry. His usual was now the warmed chocolate chip loaf.

Steve found that he enjoyed picking up these small details about Eddie. Each one felt like collecting a piece of something special. And catching him writing, or better yet, pondering what he could be writing. The entire sight pushed Steve’s heart into overdrive.

Steve spent any free time of his shifts sneaking glances at Eddie as he sketched or wrote.

Was it creepy?  

Steve was no stranger to having evening regulars; he knew that Mr. Westler was recently divorced and Candice and her young son Grant were going to the movies on Friday.

Eddie as a coffee shop regular felt different. No other regular made Steve excited to come in for his closing shifts. And he found that he even hated the uniform a little less.

After a month of observations and a goodbye wave at each shift, Steve begrudgingly accepted that seeing Eddie and serving Eddie was something he looked forward to.

--

It rained hard the next Tuesday shift and Steve looked outside as thunder rolled across the sky. The darkened sky made the overhead lights in the coffee shop glow a warmer yellow.  The water on the window caught the headlights and lighted storefronts from outside, making the windows look like a watercolor painting.

Steve appreciated rainy days. The evening rush wasn’t as busy since people wanted to stay out of the rain, but, there was always a possibility of a rush for people to escape the rain. There’d been a slight rush in the afternoon, and Steve realized as time went on that Eddie most likely had stayed home. A bike whizzed past as Steve handed out a small Americano to a student. He watched curiously as the back wheel flicked up water, causing it to patter against the window. Steve’s brow furrowed.

Biking? In the rain?  

The figure hurried in and it’s clear that they weren’t just wet from the rain. They’re soaked .

Water ran off the sides of the jacket sleeves and some of the patrons stared offensively at the dripping sight. It’s not until the man swiped back a handful of plastered curls when Steve blinked in shock.

“Eddie?” Steve’s heart stuttered, trying not to focus on how wide and innocent Eddie’s eyes looked as he slogged towards the counter. Questions bounced around Steve’s mind, but he cleared his throat and grabbed a few clean rags from under the counter.

It’s the closest thing to something dry that Steve can think of.

“They’re clean,” Steve explained. “And we’ve got some more in the back.”

Eddie immediately pressed the towel to his face and shrugged out of his guitar to lean it against the counter. The water droplets pearled against the hard casing of his guitar case and dark flecks decorated Eddie’s shirt and jacket.

“What….What happened?” Steve asked slowly. He suddenly wished the coffeeshop had bigger towels.

“Caught in the downpour,” Eddie replied quickly as he toweled off his neck and chin. “I never saw it coming,” he sputtered sadly. Eddie shook slightly and Steve realized the flecks on Eddie’s shirt weren’t the design, but were flecks of mud and sediment. Water is caught in his hair like crystals, and they shine down his curls and pearl at his ends. Some of the heavier drops  splash to the floor.

“My uncle would have driven, but he’s already at work.” His face disappeared into the towel again before moved on to his jacket sleeves. “And I didn’t want to cancel the lesson.” He shivered, swiping the towel down the front of his shirt. His hair hung in soaked strands. “But I did not plan to be soaking wet like this. Fuck, it’s cold.”

It isn’t until Eddie starts patting the back of his jacket when he abruptly stopped. He twisted to look at the back, and then turned again, trying to see it better.

Steve suddenly envisioned a kitten chasing its tail.

Eddie cursed quietly. “The mud got sprayed up my jacket,” he moaned. He held up the handful of soggy towels. “Can I get these dirty? Is that okay?” He rotated around  again, trying to get a better look at his back. “Actually, do you mind telling me how bad this is?”

Steve tried to keep his composure, but he was sure that his ears were fire-engine red. “I, uh, it’s not…” Steve thought of skirting around the question, but then he saw that Eddie’s back was splattered with mud. He winced out of sympathy. “It’s pretty dirty,” he finally settled.  

Eddie groaned and studied his jacket. “Do you mind getting some more towels? I think I’ll need a few more.”

There aren’t any more towels under the counter, but Steve grabbed the few stacked next to the sink. “Here, try these.”

Eddie took them and dabbed at his soaked sleeves. “Guess this is coming off, too,” he sighed. The wet denim fought him and he yanked it to free his arm. When he turned to look at the back of his shirt, Steve caught a glimpse of Eddie’s quarter sleeve tattoo. An outline of a wing peeking under his left sleeve.

The weak breeze of the AC did nothing to help Eddie as he shivered in his black short sleeve shirt, and Steve suddenly wished he could wrap him in something warm and dry.

Steve paused, checking the coffee shop. There were only a few people that sat around, and all of them looked served. Steve lowered his voice. “We actually have extra uniforms in the back,” he offered. “It’s not the most stylish…” He glanced down at his own tan monstrosity. “But they’re dry.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? I-I,” Eddie started before shivering. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Keith is gone for the day,” Steve explained. “Besides, he can’t do much more than tell me off a bit.” He shrugged. “We gotta get you outta those wet clothes, come on.” He lifted the counter and it opened like a drawbridge and Eddie stepped carefully behind the counter.

“It’s kinda…fun to be back here,” Eddie mused as he took in the view from the café. “I feel like the king of the café.” He twisted to look at Steve as cleared away the few carts in front of the storage door. “Is this how you feel every day?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Eddie, soaking wet but serving coffee to other evening regulars. “Not exactly, but now that you mention it, Café King does have a nice ring to it.”

Eddie’s squeaky converse followed Steve’s sneakers into the storage room. Steve had only been back there a handful of times, but he didn’t remember it being such close quarters. Eddie felt attached to his back, but Steve found his presence surprisingly warm, despite the man’s shivers. He searched the shelves, certain there were extra shirts somewhere.

“Oo, it’s a little creepy back here,” Eddie whispered. “Looks almost haunted. Have you seen ghosts back here or like, felt cold spots?” He peered at Steve through one of the shelves. “Or have you seen anything out of the ordinary? Something you can’t explain?” Another smirk played at Eddie’s lips.

Steve gave him an intrigued look. “There was that one time I tripped over a sack of beans that were back here.”

“A bag of beans?” Eddi repeated.

“Yep, it was on a cart but I didn’t see either.” Steve nodded towards the wall. “So I redid some of the lighting.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “You...what?”

“Here, flip that switch on the wall?”

Eddie kept his brow furrowed curiously as he slowly flipped the switch by the doorframe. Instead of the expected harsh lighting of a storage room, the lighting of the storage room was done up in yellow Christmas lights that hung, strung from the ceiling.

“Okay, wait,” Eddie paused, looking around. “This is the coolest storage closet I’ve ever seen!” His hair flicked out cold droplets of water as he turned in a slow circle to take it all in.

“Yeah, I sometimes get migraines so this room is a bit darker than the coffee shop ones,” Steve explained. His cheeks heated in muted humiliation; why was he talking about this?  

“It feels so cozy in here,” Eddie replied. “And if anything, you could keep the lights out if you’re sensitive to low lights, too.”

Steve nodded. “Exactly.” He turned to Eddie to ask how he knew about migraines, and immediately was reminded the man was soaking wet. “You must be freezing.” Steve went back to searching the shelves.

“Will gets them. Migraines,” Eddie explained. He hugged himself as Steve searched the next shelf. “Kid’s a trooper, though. He’s better at catching them early.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Sucks that they can start so young, too.” He moved to the next shelf. “Found ‘em!” Steve called, holding up a tan shirt that smelled faintly of stale coffee. “And looks like they left behind some chef’s pants.” Steve held up the black and white checkered pants, holding  back a laugh. “Is small okay for the shirt?”

“This’ll do,” Eddie responded gratefully as he took the shirt. “Thank you so much, Steve. I also did not expect to be doing any of this.”

Steve felt another strong urge to wrap Eddie up and watch him sip warm chocolate. He pushed away the thought. “You can change back here, and if you want, there’s some hangers and such back here if you want to hang up your clothes.”

Eddie looked down at the clothes he held. “That’s so great, thank you. And I can get my clothes back when I return them.”

Steve nodded. “Sounds like an even trade.”

Steve nodded once more before turning out of the room to let the man change. He couldn't help himself as he took one more glance at Eddie, dripping wet under the soft lights.

Eddie emerged from the storage room looking considerably drier. There was more color in his cheeks and he wasn’t shivering.

“You look better,” Steve smiled.

Eddie’s lean frame swam in the shirt, but the tan brought out the chocolate in Eddie’s eyes. Even with the tan shirt paired with the checkered chef’s pants, Eddie looked… cool . His curls were more damp than wet, and some of his usual flyaways did their usual dance in the light breeze of the AC.

Steve blinked. Could this man pull off anything? Or did this mean he liked a man in uniform?

“What, soaking wet isn’t my best look?,” Eddie playfully replied before going serious. “But really, I cannot thank you enough. You’re truly saving my life.” He ducked under the counter and reached for his guitar.

Steve shook his head. “Well, we don’t just let anyone wear the tan,” he laughed.

“It’s an honor, truly,” Eddie laughed. He gave Steve another one of his famous bows. “And are you closing on Thursday?”

“Yeah. “ His ears heated at the thought of Eddie knowing his schedule.  

“Okay, cool, I can bring these back then.”

Steve nodded. “See you then.” Suddenly, he grabbed one of the drink trays. “Here, use this for the way over. It could be a good makeshift umbrella.”

Eddie gave him another grateful look. “You’re a genius, Steve,” he rushed. “Truly.” He grabbed his guitar and held up the drink tray in a wave. “See ya later!”

Steve lifted his own hand up to wave back. “See you!”

It isn't until Steve closed up that he remembered Eddie's clothes in the storage room. He quickly headed back there, and sure enough, the man's jeans and usual denim jacket were laid out on the shelves. Without another thought, Steve grabbed them to take them home to wash.

--

Thursday’s rush is busy enough for Steve to miss Eddie’s graceful dismount, but Steve caught sight of his parked bike as he cleaned up after the evening rush.

Eddie arrived at the café later  with his guitar on his back. “Hey Steve,” he bounced, holding up a paper bag. He took a sneaky look around before placing the bag to the counter. “I’ve got the goods.”

Steve didn’t stand a chance against the smile that broke out on his face. “What are you, a drug dealer?” he joked. He took the bag. “Thanks, though. And besides, Keith left at like, seven thirty. As usual.” He pulled out a bag of Eddie's folded clothes, the ones he took home to wash and dry.

"Steve, you washed these? And folded them?" Eddie gave him a wide-eyed look as he stared into the bag. "You really didn't have to do that."

Steve rubbed his neck nervously. "It's nothing," he replied shyly. "Just a little mud."

Eddie took out his denim jacket and unfolded it before slipping it on. Nice and clean, it seemed to be glad to be back on his shoulders. "Well, thanks again, Steve. I feel like I'd be an Eddie-ice pop without you."

“Speaking of, is today a chamomile tea day or a mocha day?”

Eddie beamed. “I’ll take the usual small mocha and a chocolate chip loaf.”

“Warmed,” Steve added with a smile. His heart squeezed as Eddie beamed at him. He nodded towards Eddie’s notebook that he held under his arm. “So, do you write poetry?”

Eddie gave Steve a shy smile. “No, actually. Songs, they’re songs, well, half-songs. So kind of like poetry.” He patted his pocket before reaching in and producing a small folded piece of paper. “Actually, I’ve got a show coming up next week. It's a pretty small show, but it’ll melt your pretty little face off.”

Steve took the flier and looked it over. “Yeah, I’d-I’d love to come. Thank you.”

Eddie smiled. “And if you need, café-mandated uniforms are okay to wear.”

‘Hey, I thought you were done hating on the tan,” Steve laughed.

Eddie gave him a pointed look. “I’m not hating on it, I’m just saying their welcome at my show.”

And later that night when Eddie wrote, all leg-bouncing and pen-biting, Steve carefully set a second mocha in front of him.

“On the house,” he said.

Steve knew he’d spend the rest of his night remembering Eddie’s million-watt smile.

[sogno-ao3]

thoughts on cny/wedding arc, still waters ch. 48-56

I would characterize this arc as primarily about (1) the slow intersection of their worlds, especially Tommy's incursion into Mollie's sphere, and (2) Mollie allowing herself more and more to think of Tommy as not just an employer, not just a friend, but perhaps someone she might even love.

Slow intersection of worlds

Up until this arc, Mollie has mostly existed in Tommy's world, in his house; she's met various members of his family in a personal setting (e.g., the christening), she's been a part of Peaky Blinder machinations whether she intended to or not, but Tommy has not had an equivalent experience yet. This arc provides him with that: visiting the tailor shop to learn more about Mollie's life, the Chinese New Year (CNY) dinner, and finally, culminating into the wedding featuring the full cast of her world.

In Ch. 48, when her mother and Song give her a lecture about not getting close to Tommy, Mollie has a little spasm of rebellion and she tells a fib that she had already invited Tommy to the CNY dinner... on the balance, Mollie is a good person, but one can also argue that she often lies (by omission) and this fib highlights this habit, providing a fascinating parallel to Tommy's selective dishonesty. She knows there is a different Tommy than the one they perceive--and she can't help but want her family to meet and observe him in a more quotidian setting.

I initially dreaded writing Ch. 50, as I had trouble imagining what would transpire between Mollie's parents and Tommy. In the end, I ended up dividing it into a kids' table (Song, Mollie, and Tommy) and a grown-ups' table (Mollie's parents, Jie, and Wan), and building on the notion that Mollie's parents would feel rather uncertain taking the lead with interacting with Tommy.

At first, Mollie's parents are uncomfortable and not sure how to approach.

My mother raised her eyebrows, glancing towards the misshapen plate of apples on the table. "Mr. Shelby is a guest, he can relax," she said.

Thomas shook his head. "It's all right, as your daughter says, my knife handling skills are lacking and I must improve," he said, intent on the apple in his hands.

My mother just gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, smiling at her. She thought it was best not to engage further.

Even though Mollie's parents have been withdrawn, they have been observing him carefully and looking out for his needs as a guest. Usually, "Tommy Shelby with a knife" inspires panic; however, the scene Mollie's mother witnesses is disturbingly domestic and calm, and perhaps, even a little comical.

Thomas carried the fruit plate out to the dining table, and seemed bemused to have some awkward thanks from my parents. From their quick glances, I knew they also noted his suit jacket had now been taken off and a small pomegranate stain was on his rolled-up white cuff. They cautiously began a trite, stilted conversation about suiting, which turned into another conversation on how to wrangle suppliers.

The first sentence calls back to Ch. 39: "I sat on the armchair opposite him, thinking of what Thomas had been as a child and the circumstances that had been thrust upon him to become an involuntary protector and guardian to his siblings, even to Arthur. An affectionate older brother, to whom no affection had been returned in his later years." Tommy, unused to straightforward expressions of appreciation, is innocently pleased. Next, Mollie's parents finally feel comfortable enough to strike up a conversation, showing how much progress they've made vis-a-vis their perspective on Tommy.

In addition to introducing Tommy to Mollie's family, the CNY dinner also serves as a way for Mollie to introduce Chinese culture to him, another important intersection of their worlds. He proves to be patient and willing to listen, which would not have been the case earlier in the work; hints of this arise in their first interactions where he asks her to do laundry, and when they have the family meeting in Ch. 30. In those chapters, Mollie is still a roughly drawn sketch in his mind, informed more by what he thinks he knows about her, rather than how she directly presents herself.

Ch. 51 is an interlude into Tommy's world again, this time by visiting his mother's grave. Tommy has finally let her into the deepest depths of his pain, and cries in front of her. Mollie calls it his "voluntary surrender"--who or what he surrenders to is up for interpretation; Mollie does not take a stance. I do not have a definitive answer, either.

Ch. 54-56 are the wedding chapters. Mollie and Tommy have been increasingly cocooned away in their private world of softness and warmth, but as Mollie senses, it is an untenable state, and she responds by inviting Tommy into her life, little by little. Tommy is less attuned to this truth due to a variety of reasons. The nice reason: he's a hopeless romantic. The awful reason: he's selfish. He assumes that he could monopolize her time like he does when they're alone together, and that she is, undoubtedly, falling in love with him... but then at the wedding, he's plagued with doubts: she's surrounded by loving friends and family, and of course, there's a new rival who is her perfect match in every single way.

Ossi slots so easily into Mollie's life, getting along with her friends and family instantly. It goes on: he's in the same age group as her, shares the same heritage, is genuinely empathetic and caring, is intelligent, comes from a wealthy family, and is the most handsome man in the entire work (I said what I said). Mollie feels quite comfortable with him as well, immediately bantering with him, and letting him hug her twice when it took Tommy... 51 chapters.

Tommy is tortured by this, and there are small moments where one can observe the vicissitudes of his emotions:

Though his eyes searched my face, his body was motionless, the planes on his face severe. He finally spoke.

"How jealously they keep you."

This is the first time they speak at the wedding, and he is brittle, like glass just about to shatter.

He bent his head, gingerly kissing the tips of my fingers. That soft look through his lashes, irresistible in its surrender, was something that I had only ever seen when we were alone together.

Yet, after Mollie asks him to dance, he softens again.

Those eyes that I thought had been icy were now liquid, ringed by deep, tired lines. There was no tension left in his face, from the corners of his eyes to his jaw, to the soft wave of his hair across his forehead. He was not Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders, he was just Tommy. Tommy, in love, in reverence, in devotion.

When they do finally dance together, the same thing occurs: Tommy is initially miserable but inevitably, he melts. He loves her above all else, and will endure pain to be close to her, even for a few moments. (One of my favorite foreshadowing lines is in Ch. 33: "We repeated this dance over the next few days, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.")

Tommy as someone to love

Since Ada revealed Tommy's love for her in Ch. 46, Mollie has been pondering what her feelings towards Tommy are. However, due to her romantic inexperience and her closed-off personality, she finds it hard to verbalize her feelings, even when we are following along in the first-person. Because of this, it is also important to look at the clues in her actions as well as any direct thoughts.

"So, I hear that Cara also requested that you make her a dress for May's wedding?" I said, not wanting to distract Thomas from trying to raise a piece of chicken to his mouth [...]

"I'll be there," he said, putting his chopsticks on the table. I fetched him another piece of chicken, placing it neatly into his bowl [...]

Picking up food and putting it into someone's bowl is a sign of great affection and care in many East Asian cultures. Personally, situations where I would do this would include seeing some relatives after a long time, someone's birthday, someone who has been sick... it's not a gesture that one would do every day in a normal situation.

Additionally, even though she teases his apple peeling skills, she eats it without complaint. This is a play on the East Asian stereotype where East Asians may not vocally admit their love for you, but show it through acts of service such as preparing fruit.

When visiting the grave of Tommy's mother in Ch. 51, Mollie slowly continues to think through her feelings. In the end, she realizes that they have grown so much closer, and her feelings are different than anything she has felt before. What exactly those feelings are, are still to be determined.

Ch. 52 contains probably one of the softest moments in the series so far, in which Mollie falls asleep in an armchair and Tommy kneels in front of the chair, waiting for her to wake up. Like most humans, Mollie finds it hard to look at him when he's being taciturn and severe, but this Tommy, all gentle smiles and let-me-go-get-you-a-coffee, is equally discomfiting, if not more.

The wedding chapters put Mollie through a tumult of emotions; comically, before the ceremony begins, she is paranoid for a few moments that perhaps Tommy was staring (he was not). When they finally talk together, we get the clearest signs of how Mollie's feelings towards Tommy have changed:

That soft look through his lashes, irresistible in its surrender, was something that I had only ever seen when we were alone together. The sounds of the wedding died away, and I felt myself transported to that place of quiet. The warmth spread through my hand, through my arm, through my body.

She references the surrender, but finally places it in context of their relationship.

In Ch. 55, Mollie ponders what it would be like to fall in love with Ossi:

I wondered what it would be like to be loved by, to fall in love with, someone like him... someone so free from the weight of his own existence, someone that wouldn't invite whispers behind my back, someone who accepted me from the beginning without question.

She doesn't fully internalize that her default point of comparison is falling in love with Tommy. It is unclear (to her, to us readers) at what stage Mollie is in with respect to Tommy: is she falling in love with him? Does she love him?

The final chapter of the arc naturally has many notable moments; I will highlight this one:

"Thomas…" I said, unsure of what I should say in return.

"This distance, even in a name," he said. My stomach churned to hear the deep note of sadness in his voice. I had slipped.

To me, this exchange is the most gut-wrenching of the entire work so far, an exchange that has been planned since the beginning. Very early on, Tommy insists that she call him "Tommy"--she does--but in her mind, she calls him Thomas in order to preserve mental distance between them. Tommy has always instinctively felt this distance; he has tried to bridge the gap--but the wedding eventually forces him to expose all of his frustrations ("What more can I do?").

The kiss scene

This scene has been on my mind since the very beginning. I started writing this story in February 2020, so very long ago, and a rough draft of their kiss scene has existed at least since end of 2021, nearly two years ago. Since then, it's undergone five major revisions and countless edits.

In the earliest version, Mollie was actually Tommy's date to the wedding, and the wedding would sort of be a public debut (but they wouldn't officially be a couple). The kiss scene would happen later at Tommy's house, when they were both winding down for bed. But, as I drew closer to the wedding arc, I thought this didn't make sense.

I also waffled back and forth about who would initiate the kiss: Tommy, Mollie, or would they mutually do so? In the first few drafts, I had Tommy initiate, but again, as I continued to write the rest of the story, I became conflicted. Mollie has been slowly taking agency over her life, and Tommy... well, I don't want to say too much right now for fear of spoiling, but here are a few important phrases that might give some clues:

He was not wearing the tuxedo bowtie any longer; the loose, unbuttoned shirt collar exposing pale skin underneath.

I knew that he was waiting for me, now.

"Could you ever love someone like me?" he asked quietly. I looked up to find his blue ones looking intensely into mine, lidded with desire, with hope, and maybe a little fear.

I also thought a lot about whether they would share a short kiss or whether there would be a more passionate exchange (various states of undress, makeout session, etc; strictly PG13, no sex), but again, it seemed too fantastical for the both of them to do such things at that point. Even so, it was important to show their physical chemistry, which is why I added the followup where Mollie bites his lower lip. It's a small gesture, but... in the words of Tommy, "everything about [Mollie] is torture."

For fun, here are all the almost kisses:

Ch. 23

"Step into the light, Mollie," he said. I did as he asked, stepping closer to him. He reached his hand towards my chin, angling it upwards. I could feel his breath on my face, his eyes searching mine intently.

Ch. 31

"You don't understand the nature of my business and my standing, and what I must say even if I…" he trailed off. He moved closer, our noses touching for a brief moment, his eyes half-hooded. I could feel the heat from his body rising towards me. I almost inhaled.

Ch. 48

He slowly inhaled, his lidded eyes softly focused on mine. I could feel the fabric flexing underneath my fingers, the wool of the outer jacket, the fine twill of his shirt, punctuated by smooth buttons.

"I've always loved…" The pressure on my hand increased even more, and I instinctively grasped at the fabric, feeling a sharp intake of breath rush through his chest. "... the feel of Shropshire wool."

Ch. 51

"It's nothing," I mumbled, afraid that he would coax the answer out, afraid that he would recognize how pliant I was in his warm hands. He leaned towards me, as if confirming my fears. There was that question again, and I was not ready to answer it. I leaned into his chest, a collapse of my own.

Ch. 55

"Thank you," he murmured. Thomas brought his hands just beneath my jaw, and slowly leaned in to kiss me lightly on the forehead. He inhaled deeply, his eyelashes trembling at the effort, his fingertips still keeping my face tilted towards him. Would he…?

The dress

Song revised the dress by adding the golden chains to silently protest against Tommy and how she perceives he holds Mollie back. The chains are a physical manifestation of shackles or a cage, but one could also argue they protect her as well and serve as a present reminder of the support of her friends and family...

His arms wrapped around me, his fingertips pressing against the gold chains and digging into my back. I had to break this porcelain fantasy, this brittle gilded cage.

[final-bae-stination]

It's Okay To Cry (Bondi Rescue)

Prompt: Harrison, who is usually not the type to show negative emotion, breaks down in front of Maxi after a resus gone wrong.

Third Person POV Harrison saw members of the public dragging a man from the water. He leapt from the Rhino, racing over and shouting in his radio, "Rhino to Central, a man's been pulled from the water, I need the defib!" He grabbed the man's shoulders, helping the two men holding him place him on the dry sand, beginning compressions. He counted under his breath, trying to hope that he could get him back. Whippet was suddenly next to him, Deano behind him. "Get to 30 and Deano will take over and I'll put the defib on." Whippet said. "25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30." Harrison removed his hands, and Whippet and Deano set the defib up, turning the machine on. The man wasn't breathing, wasn't moving, and Harrison started getting a sick feeling as they tried to find a rhythm and couldn't. The EMTs were just coming down Campbell Parade. "Do not touch the patient," The machine said, and Deano having been doing compressions, and Whippet, keeping the guy steady, moved their hands, pausing.

"No rhythm detected." Deano swore, resuming compressions as Whippet got the machine started again. Again it said not to touch the patient, and Deano and Whippet moved. It's already been five minutes.

"No rhythm detected." Deano sat back. "We have to call it." Harrison felt his world stop moving. "No. No, no, he..." He panted, sitting on his knees and heels. The EMTs arrived then, and Deano passed the man's body to them. Harrison was numb. He's dealt with a few resuses before, and sometimes, they didn't make it, but it was still hard. He blinked, staring at the sand, a deep imprint where the boy had been. He didn't hear the bustle of the crowd that had formed disappearing, didn't hear Deano packing away the defib. Whippet touched his arm. "Come on." He was silent on the way to the Tower, silent when he entered. He was pretty sure he was...what's the word? Dissociating? Something like that. Everything felt numb and distant, like he was underwater and too tired to reach the surface. Tears burned his eyes, and he struggled to keep them back. He sat at the desk, hearing faint words, but not catching the meaning. Maxi was suddenly there, grabbing Harrison's hands, rubbing his thumbs along his palms. "It's okay to cry, Hutz. None of is will judge you." And Harrison bawled, like a little kid, wishing he could've saved the man, horrified that he couldn't. Maxi wrapped him in a hug, whispering things that Hutz couldn't hear over his own sobs.

Someone put a hand on his back, and he heard Chappo's voice. "Shift's almost over, Hoppo said to just take him home." "Okay," Maxi said, standing and pulling Harrison up.

The team was still gathered, and they looked at Hutz soflty. "Hey." Whippet touched his arm as he passed. "It's oaky. We can't save everyone, okay?" "Kay." Hutz said. "Love you, Hutzy!" Jethro shouted from the locker room. "Love you."

As Hutz sat in the car, headed home, he thought, I'm not alone. And Whippet's right. We can't save everyone. But I will be better.

[justsomeclintasha]

Clint shifts from one leg to the next, watching the coffee brew in the machine. It’s taking forever. He wanders to the cabinet, then the fridge, and back to the counter, finally filling his mug.

Fresh caffeine in hand, he sits down across from Tony at the kitchen table. A newspaper is spread out in front of him. The crossword is half filled. He chews the end of his pen.

Clint is quiet as he watches. He’s a sniper, after all. He’s patient. Usually.

His leg bounces under the table. Tony fills out a row of squares, and Clint picks up the extra pen beside them. He clicks it open, draws an arrow on the corner of the paper. Clicks it shut. Bounces his leg some more.

Tony looks up and sighs.

“Out with it.”

“Natasha is mad at me.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing! Well, I don’t think I did. I just tried to share some of her chips and she snapped at me. She doesn’t even like sour cream and onion.”

“It’s just that sort of week,” Tony replies with a shrug, starting on the sudoku. He seems unbothered. Clint frowns and sips his coffee, thinking it over.

Is Natasha having a bad week? It didn’t seem so. She was unusually affectionate yesterday, but maybe he had just looked extra handsome or she liked his new body wash.

“Maybe you should take her a heating pad,” Tony suggests. Clint snaps back to reality, and the squares of the puzzle are already filled.

“Is she injured?”

“She’s been eating fruity pebbles the last three days.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She has her period, Clint,” he explains patiently.

“What?”

“It’s when a woman’s body-“

“I know what it means! How do you know?”

“Because I notice things. Eating habits change. Food cravings. You know?”

“I’m a spy.”

“Clearly not a good one.” Clint huffs out a frustrated breath. “Take her a heating pad and a snack. It’s not a bad thing, but sometimes emotions change and they can be overwhelming. She’s fine. Just help her out.”

With that, he gathers his stuff and leaves. Clint quietly finishes his coffee, wondering how he could have missed all the signs. It didn’t even occur to him. A twinge of guilt tugs in his chest.

He puts his empty mug in the sink. Jarvis directs him to the medical supply closet, where he finds an electric heating pad. It’s soft and has different temperature settings. He thinks it may be perfect. He swings back to the kitchen on the way to grab some chocolate chip cookies, which are usually her favorite.

Natasha is right where he left her, curled up on her oversized chair in the lounge. Her knees are tucked to her chest. She looks miserable and tired, watching the rain fall outside.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I brought you some stuff. You want to cuddle?”

She turns her gaze to him, then to the items in his arms. He hands over the cookies and plugs in the heating pad, moving it over to her stomach and handing her the control so she can adjust it. As he sits down next to her, she immediately snuggles into him.

“I don’t feel good.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Her head drops onto his shoulder. He can feel how exhausted she is. “You can sleep, Nat. I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I love you.” She smiles, her eyes closing.

“I love you, too.”

[deepdisireslonging]

Maybe One Day: Chapter 1

Sophia Adler is a nurse in Gotham. On her way home one evening, a problem drops into her lap. But it’s hard to tell if her new patient is the bigger problem, or the man in red who seems insistent on irritating her.

Pairing: (eventual) Red Hood x Sophia Adler (OC)

Warnings/Promises: canon-levels mafia violence, cw blood

Word Count: 1600

Note: This was a commission I wrote back in December for a patron. I’m going to share it here bit by bit. As always, I really appreciate all reblogs and comments.

December Twenty-First 

DOWNTOWN GOTHAM, 7 PM

The well-suited man paced in front of the large ornate desk that took up most of the room. He straightened his tie for the hundredth time. “Shipment is set for that date? You have to be sure, or I can’t do anything about it.” 

Behind the desk, Black Mask furrowed his brow. “If it is delayed, you’ll fix your preparations. Or you get nothing. And your next campaign run will be heavily underfunded.” He leaned back, relaxed. “You above all people should know what happens to city officials who don’t have my stamp of approval. You replaced the last one.”

Stepping back, the official wilted. He looked like a child trying on his father's clothes. He nodded, defeated. 

“Great!” Black Mask pushed a button on his desk. “Ms Li, please show our guest to the door. Our business is finished for the day.” As his assistant did as he asked, an extra guard heavily guided the man out of the room. Black Mask looked down. The map on his desk showed all of Gotham with the usual police patrol paths highlighted. Other dots, far away from those paths, marked his warehouses and drop points. If everything went according to plan, Gotham would enter a new era. 

 <\\\*///>

 December Twenty-Second 

GOTHAM HOSPITAL, 10 PM

Incessant beeping was a daily part of Sophia Adler’s day. All around her various medical machines worked to keep Gothamites stabilized, and her team moved from patient to patient in a practiced dance. Carefully, she glanced at the watch on her wrist. Her patient chuckled.

“How long have they been running you for today?” His smile was hindered by bindings around one side of his face, but the warmth passed through all the same. 

Sophia side-eyed him with a smirk. “Just the usual twelve hours. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He whistled, or did his best to. “They work you too hard. A smart woman like you needs to move to one of those private clinics. Make bigger bucks on fewer hours.” 

“But then I couldn’t help people like you.” She looked up as the floor manager called out her name, motioning her to go home. “Don’t get into any more trouble while I’m gone?”

“No promises.”

They shared a laugh before she finished up his paperwork. Her friend and coworker, Alexis, bumped hips with her at the sink. They covered the usual catch-up for Alexis to take over Sophia’s rounds, then both leaned against the wall for a breather. 

“So. How are you liking Gotham?” 

Sophia rolled her eyes. “I like it. It’s home; always has been. I swear you guys treat me like a tourist sometimes.” 

“Yeah, but you’ve been in Metropolis for school. Coming back here must’ve been a culture shock.” 

With a laugh, Sophia picked up her bag. “No. The culture shock was moving there. Coming back was a relief.” 

Alexis leaned close. “How was seeing Superman, though?”

“I never saw ‘im. Just cleaned up his messes.” 

“Too bad.” Alexis leaned away, half-hiding behind a bed curtain as a manager walked by. “They say he’s a looker.” 

With a tsk, Sophia dismissed the thirst chat. “He’s probably got some alien or super girlfriend, so what’s it to me?” Snagging her arm, they headed towards the door. Before she could go through, Alexis tugged her to a stop. 

“Come on, who wouldn’t want a hero boyfriend?”

“No thanks. I’ve got enough stress in my life as it is.” She grinned. “If I find one interested in a nurse, I’ll send them your way.” Their giggles came to a stop when a Doctor walked by. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah. Drive safe.”

Sophia called over her shoulder, “I’ll do my part.” 

Despite what she’d said, Gotham had been a bit of a culture shock. Metropolis didn’t have as many petty criminals. Hard to when their resident hero could hear everyone on earth. She had to reteach herself to carry mace and a knife, and to have a gas mask within quick reach at any given time. Still, the streets were the same. A few had been rebuilt. Though it didn’t take long for the city’s grime to reclaim them. 

She was a block from home when she could hear shouting. Slowing down, she rolled down her window, a bad habit she picked up in Metropolis. For her trouble, a body plummeted to the concrete next to her, making her scream. Her hands were shaking so hard she could hardly park the car and grab the keys. 

It was a man. And, based on the amount of blood and its placement, he’d been attacked. 

“Sir, can you hear me?” Sophia kneeled next to him and prepared to check for the most dangerous injuries. “My name is Sophia, I’m going to try to stabilize you. What’s your name?” The man managed to whisper “Bill” before a dark shape dropped next to her, pushing her out of the way. 

“Basically, goon number three.” The assailant dragged the man up by his collar, making him jolt with a hard punch to the stomach. “And he’s not worth stabilizing.” He proceeded to drag him into the nearby alley while the man blubbered for his life. 

Sophia staggered to her feet and followed him. “Stop! You’ll kill him.” She skid to a stop when the streetlight revealed his gear. 

The shiny red biker helmet identified him strongly enough. Red Hood. The red emblem across his chest angled more towards her, making her step back. 

“Now that we’ve been acquainted,” he said, “can I get on with my work?” 

“No.” Sophia swallowed. “There have got to be better ways of… processing this man than what you’ve been doing to him.” 

“You sound like the Bat.” 

“At least he recognizes that violence isn’t always the answer. And when it is, it is well deserved and he still delivers them to the authorities or the hospital.” 

“He won’t need a doctor. He’s going to need a coroner.”

At that, Bill started wailing, pleading for Sophia to not let him die. She didn’t think. Stepping into their scuffle, Sophia yanked him out of Red Hood’s hands and guided him to lie down. Surprisingly, Red Hood didn’t put up a fuss, even as Sophia dug gloves out of her pocket and began to examine him. 

“I didn’t want this job! It was all I could get in this crummy town.” He hissed when she pressed gently on his ribs. “I’m a good man. I try to keep my nose clean, I don’t take candy from babies, and I pay taxes on my income. What more do you want from me?” He shivered back with a yelp when Red Hood leaned into his face. 

“I want scum like you to stop sneaking weapons into my city.”

Sophia’s eyebrows rose. “Weapons?”

“Mhmm. This worm,” Red Hood dug his thumb into Bill’s shoulder, “is part of Black Mask’s gang. They’ve got a big present coming into town sometime around Christmas. And I don’t think it’s good cheer.” 

In her mind, Sophia recalled the last time Black Mask’s weapon market had brought her trouble. It inspired her to move to Metropolis for med school. And it about took out the city block where she lived. Angrily, she jammed her fingers into Bill’s side where he’d winced earlier. He yelped, confused. “You either tell this man what he wants to know, or I’m going to use my medical knowledge to help him hurt you more.” 

The helmet quickly angled towards her. With a tilt, he accepted the help. 

“I- I can’t. He’d kill me-”

“Mask? You’re still worried about him when you’ve got the both of us staring you down?” Red Hood nodded at Sophia. “Think again.” 

On cue, she prodded one of his wounds. He cried out. 

“Okay, okay. But I don’t know much. Something not from here. Some guy made a deal with the boss. R. Sage? Severe?”

“Savage?”

“Yeah. That sounds right.”

Red Hood ran his hand over his helmet like he would his fingers through his hair. “Great. When?”

The goon made a show of shutting his mouth. Until Sophia prodded his painful ribs again. “Christmas Eve! Geeze, lighten up, won’t you? Most everybody will be taking the day off. Minimum security.”

Sophia was in on it now. She needed to know if the upcoming attack was going to happen anywhere near her. Or near the hospital. “Where? And don’t say you don’t know. For a goon, you know an awful lot already, so spill.” To push her point, she made a show of grabbing his fingers, prepared to wrench them back. 

He blubbered and moaned, but finally said, “dock C. Some city guy is making sure most of the team gets the holiday. The others will get a special present to make sure they don’t see a thing.” 

Red Hood snapped his fist forward, knocking Bill out. He was about to hoist him over his shoulder when Sophia intervened. 

“Alright, you got your information. Now let him go.” 

“What? I’m not gonna-”

“I’ll call the police. You’ll be gone by then. And by the time he gets out, you’ll probably have this whole thing solved, right?”

She could feel him smirking as he crossed his arms. “You have a lot of faith in me, Doc.”

“Not a doctor. A nurse. And as such, I can’t let you-”

“Dammit!”

Bill had recovered while they argued, and ran off in a dead sprint. 

Red Hood pushed Sophia to one side. “You did good, I’ll give you that. Consider it your good deed for… the year. Now, stay out of this. Please. You’ll only get yourself hurt.”

“But I can help!” 

He was already gone. 

Suddenly very tired, Sophia went back to her car. Soon she was safe in her apartment. She fell asleep quickly. And wishing that what she’d just seen had been a dream. 

 <\\\*///>

***

Part 2: Here

Intrigued? Interested in a commission of your own? Check out more information here: Guidelines Here

[pedroscurls]

Always Been You (Part 4).

Character(s): no-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, young!Sarah Miller (7 y/o) Summary: It's Sarah's birthday and Joel asks for your help the night before you three go to the fair. Word count: 5,460 Author's Note: I had so much fun writing this part! I wanted to develop Reader's relationship with Sarah a bit more, which means more fluff. In the next coming chapters, we're gonna do a bit of a time jump and the angst will follow... Stay tuned! Warning: None. SERIES MASTERLIST

“So,” Joel said, helping you clean up your coffee shop once it closed. He was holding a clean rag, wiping down each table. “Are you free tonight?” 

You looked over at him, counting the money in the cash register. You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Yeah. Did you wanna grab dinner?” 

“Well, actually,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I could use your help with somethin’, but I can promise dinner.”

You let a smile line your lips, setting the money in a bag and kneeling down to put it in the safe. Once it was secured and locked, you walked over to the espresso machine and began making two lattes. Joel finished cleaning the tables and leaned over the counter to watch you, smiling to himself. 

“What did you need help with?” 

“Since it’s Sarah’s birthday tomorrow, I wanted to decorate the living room for her so when she wakes up in the morning, she’d be surprised, y’know? Start her birthday festivities right when she wakes up.” 

“Of course I’ll help, Joel,” you smiled. “She’s gonna love it.”

“I hope so, but I think she’s more excited to go to the fair with you.” 

“With us,” you corrected. “Now, come here and let me show you how to make a latte.” 

“Oh, I don’t–” Joel began, shaking his head. “It’s alright, darlin’.”

“Nope, come here.” You replied, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “And wash your hands.”

Joel chuckled, walking around the counter until he was standing right next to you. He bit his lower lip, the close proximity making the butterflies flutter in his stomach like usual. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned to the sink and washed his hands thoroughly and quickly. Once he finished, Joel turned around and gently bumped into you, not realizing how close you were. His hands immediately moved to rest on your hips, looking down at you as the front of your bodies both pressed against each other. 

“Clumsy little thing, ain’t ya?” Joel whispered, looking into your eyes. 

You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “Me? You’re the one who bumped into me.” 

Joel feigned a gasp, the close proximity making his cheeks heat up. As badly as he wanted to lean in even further, he had to take a step back. He had to remind himself that he didn’t want to pressure you into something you weren’t ready for. For someone who had just gotten out of a four-year relationship, Joel didn’t expect you to have a “quick turnaround” and be with someone else. Joel was a patient man and he told himself that he would try to wait for you, no matter how long it took because the more and more time he spent with you, the more he found himself falling in love with you.

Love. It was something Joel only ever experienced once in his life and it didn’t end well. He had always been so reserved, so careful in letting other women (or people) into his life, but when it came to you, it surprised him how easily it was for you to take his guard down and how willing he was to let you in. 

“Maybe you were just in the way,” he winked. 

Gently, you smacked his chest and took a few steps forward to lead him to stand in front of the espresso machine. “Anyway, I’m gonna teach you how to make my favorite drink.”

“Oh?” Joel smirked. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I know you like your coffee. I think it’s only fair if you know how to make coffee the way I like it.” you smiled. 

Joel chuckled, looking over at you. He loved being so close to you, loved watching you work, loved spending time with you. He nodded and gently nudged you with his arm, flashing you another wink. “I’m all yours then.” 

You bit your lower lip, looking up at him while you held the portafilter in your hand. After meeting Sarah and spending more and more time with Joel and her, you found that the feelings you had for him were only getting stronger. Every time the thought of crossing the boundary entered your mind, you had to remind yourself that you weren’t ready. Part of you hoped that Joel would wait for you, but you knew it was selfish of you to even ask that of him. 

Besides, you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. If the only relationship you had with him was being his best friend, you were okay with it. 

“Okay, so…” you began, placing the ground espresso into the portafilter. You watched Joel grab the extra one, following your movements carefully. “Once we have our espresso, we’re going to go ahead and tamper it like this.” You grabbed your tamper and pressed it down onto the espresso, seeing the ground espresso flatten into the portafilter. 

Joel was carefully making sure that he was doing it correctly, glancing repeatedly in your direction to ensure that he wasn’t messing up. Once he finished tampering his ground espresso, he followed your movements to place the portafilter in the espresso machine. 

“We’re gonna do an iced latte,” you said. “Make it easier before we move onto steaming milk.” 

“Steaming milk?” Joel asked. “Now you’re asking too much from me,” he teased. 

“And here I thought you were a hard worker,” you winked. 

Joel chuckled, “Ah, you got me there, darlin’.” 

“So, I like a vanilla iced latte with oat milk.” 

“Sounds complicated,” he smiled. 

“Hey,” you replied. “I like what I like.”

“Okay, fair enough. What’s next, darlin’?” 

You smiled and handed him a plastic 16oz cup and led him to the syrups that you had along the back counter. You grabbed your cup and did two pumps of vanilla, watching Joel follow you carefully. Then, you turned back to the espresso machine. “Now we click the button with the two espresso shot logos.” 

You and Joel pressed the button, watching the espresso shots start to pour into the plastic cups. Joel was amazed, watching the light brown color fill the cup. Once the espresso shots finished pulling, you both pulled the cup from the espresso machine and gently swirled the liquid to mix in with the syrup. 

“Then we’ll pour the oat milk about halfway into the cup and fill the rest with ice.” Joel followed your movements and once both drinks finished, you smiled up at him. 

“That was pretty fun,” Joel chuckled. You reached your hand out for the drink he made, which he immediately shook his head. “What? No. I can drink this–”

“Nope. I’m drinking it. You’re drinking what I made.”

“But what if it’s not good, darlin’?”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Joel.”

Hesitantly, he handed you the cup and you handed him yours. Carefully, you brought the cup to your lips and took a small sip, a grin immediately lining your lips. 

“Wow.”

Joel bit his lower lip, watching your expression carefully. “I’m sorry–”

“This is just how I like it,” you smiled. “It’s perfect.”

“Really?” Joel replied, a look of relief washing over his features. “I’ve got a good teacher,” he winked. Joel then took a sip of the latte, making a face at the taste. He wasn’t used to sweet drinks, so this was definitely something he normally didn’t order. 

“Too sweet?” you chuckled.

Joel nodded. “I mean, it’s good, but–”

“I’ll make you your usual,” you smiled. 

—

You were sitting outside in Joel’s backyard with a variety of colored balloons. You and Joel were blowing them up for Sarah’s birthday tomorrow, careful not to be too loud especially since she was already fast asleep. 

“Thank you for helpin’ out,” Joel said. “I would have asked Tommy, but he’s got another date.” 

You smiled, tying the pink balloon once you finished blowing it up. “It’s no worries at all. Anything for Sarah.”

“She really likes you, you know,” he replied. 

“If I’m being honest,” you began. “I was so nervous to meet her. I know how much she means to you, so I think I might have put a little pressure on myself.” 

Joel chuckled. “Well, it seems like it didn’t take much for her to get attached to you and now she talks about you nonstop.” 

You smiled, leaning against him subconsciously. “She’s got a lot of you in her, you know.”

Joel’s eyes glimmered under the moonlight, looking down at you as he watched you tie another balloon closed. “Y’think so?” 

You nodded, looking up at him and gently tapping the tip of his nose with the balloon. “I know we’ve known each other for several months now, but I really can’t imagine my life without you and Sarah.” 

Joel bit his lower lip, staring into your eyes as your words settled right into his core, giving him a sensation that he hadn’t felt before. “Y’know, me too,” he finally said. “You are pretty great.” 

“You’re just saying that because you like my coffee,” you chuckled, turning your attention away from him to continue blowing up the last set of balloons. 

Joel didn’t say anything; he just watched you with a longing look in his eyes. He wanted this with you every night, to be able to spend every second with you. He watched as you finished blowing the last set of balloons, a big smile resting on your face and he had to bite his lower lip to prevent him from saying what he wanted. 

“I think we’re all set,” you said, turning to look up at him. “What do you think? Should we go decorate your living room?” 

Joel cleared his throat, shaking himself out of his trance as he nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. You sure it ain’t too late for you?” 

“I had an amazing iced latte. I’m good,” you winked. You stood from the chair and extended a hand out for him, smiling in his direction. “Come on, old man.”

Joel scoffed, looking at your hand and rolling his eyes. “I ain’t old. I’m only a few years older than you.”

“Well, you grunt like an old man,” you laughed. 

Joel shook his head and took your hand, accepting your help as he unintentionally grunted. “Okay, that don’t count.”

“That was a grunt.”

“No,” he said, looking down at you as he stood on his feet and got up from the chair. 

You mimicked him, grunting lowly. “That was you.” 

Joel’s eyes narrowed and stepped closer to you, moving his hands to your sides as he began tickling you. Immediately, you erupted in a fit of hushed giggles, trying to remain quiet as you squirmed away from him. Joel held you close to him, letting a smile line his lips at the sound of your laughter.

“Joel!” you whispered, trying to push him away. 

“Apologize,” he demanded, his movements ceasing for a moment. 

“For what?” you replied, batting your eyes up at him innocently. Slowly, you pushed away from and began running away, barefoot along the grass in his backyard. Joel immediately began running after you, a quiet grunt leaving his lips as he let out a chuckle. 

Once you were within reach, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you down with him, his free hand moving to run his fingers across your sides. When he heard your laughter, Joel smiled and only stopped tickling you once he heard you get louder with your giggles.

“Okay, okay,” you whispered breathlessly. “Truce?” You looked up at him, lying on your back on the grass with your hair splayed along it. Joel was on his side next to you, one arm still draped over your waist. 

“Only if you say sorry,” he said. “Then, we can have a truce.”

“Fine,” you pouted. “I’m sorry, Joel.” 

Joel grinned, pulling away from you and lying on his back next to you. He placed his hands on his abdomen, staring up at the dark, starry sky as he heard you let out a quiet, contented breath. 

“Just for the record,” he continued. “I’m glad we met.”

You looked over at him, a blush appearing on your cheeks. “I was a mess when we met.” 

“With reason,” he replied. “But you seem… Better.”

“Thanks to you and Sarah,” you smiled, nudging him gently. 

Joel bit the inside of his cheek and smiled, looking over at you. “I’d say that’s only a small part of it.” 

“I still have my moments,” you shrugged. “But not as intense, I guess.” 

“I suppose it would take longer than a few months to get over someone you thought you were going to eventually settle down with,” he sighed. “It’s hard, and I get it. When a relationship doesn’t work out, especially when it’s with someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and realizing that it won’t ever happen– It hurts like hell.” 

“I feel like you’re the only one who gets me, Joel,” you said. “I think you’re my best friend.”

“You think?” he scoffed. “No, darlin’. I am your best friend, just like you’re mine.” 

You smiled and leaned over to hug him, resting your head on his broad chest. You let out a quiet breath and shut your eyes; you could get used to this. Nights like this, just talking with him, being in his arms, it was something you sought out after meeting him. The way he made you feel so safe and protected was a feeling you craved more and more. 

“Sarah’s gonna be so happy tomorrow,” you whispered. 

Joel moved one arm to wrap around your shoulders, holding you close to his side. “Thank you for the help, darlin’. It would have probably taken me all night to blow all those balloons up.”

“Anything for you and Sarah,” you smiled. “Anyway, I should probably head home.” 

Joel nodded, pulling his arm from you and stood up, gently reaching down to help you up to your feet. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Yes, you will.” 

“You wanna come by for breakfast? We can spend the entire day together.” Joel asked hesitantly. “With Sarah, of course.” 

“That sounds like a plan,” you said with a smile. “Good night, Joel.” 

“Good night, darlin’.” Joel bit his lower lip and pulled you into his arms, giving you a tight hug. “And just so y’know, whoever you end up with will be one lucky sonofabitch.” 

You shut your eyes as your arms moved to wrap around his midsection, letting out a quiet breath. “I don’t know how long that’ll be,” you whispered, looking up at him. “I just hope that I’m the best version of myself before I meet him.”

Joel stared into your eyes, his heart screaming internally that he would wait for you as long as it took, but part of him didn’t know how to express his feelings for you, especially since you were still getting over Robert. 

“Let me walk to your car,” he replied, pulling away from you and leading you to the front of his house from the side gate. 

—

The following morning, you knocked on Joel’s front door, holding two cups of coffee and a bag full of gifts for Sarah. When the door swung open, you heard a little girl’s shriek of excitement and your eyes lowered to find Sarah staring up at you (and the gifts) with a big grin. 

She was in her pajamas, hair messy, and it looked like she had just woken up. 

“Happy birthday, Sarah,” you smiled. 

“I thought you were coming later!” she giggled, lunging to wrap her arms around your legs. “This is already turning out to be the best birthday ever! Look, come in, come in.” She tugged on your leg and you followed her inside, shutting the door behind you. “Daddy decorated the living room with balloons and now he’s making some pancakes.” 

You looked over at the living room and smiled at the sight. You felt a small sense of pride to know that you lent a hand in helping Joel decorate for Sarah’s special day. You followed the little girl to the kitchen and smiled at the sight of Joel. He was dressed in dark jeans and a red and black flannel over a white t-shirt. He turned to look over at you, his eyebrows shooting upwards at the sight of you holding a cup of coffee.

“That for me?” he asked, flipping a pancake. 

“Yeah, figured you might need it,” you smiled, setting it down on the counter. “Do you need any help?” 

He shook his head and reached for the cup of coffee, letting out a contented breath when he took a careful sip. “I’m good.” 

“Can I give Sarah her presents?” you asked, seeing the little girl look through your bag of gifts for her. “She looks a bit too focused on what I brought,” you laughed. 

Joel looked over his shoulder and let out a quiet chuckle. “Can we wait? I wanna see what you got her too. She hasn’t yet opened my gifts for her either.” 

“So, breakfast first?” You replied.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel turned the stovetop off and grabbed the plate of pancakes to set on the dining table. He then went over to Sarah, scooping her up into his arms and littering her face with kisses, her laughter filtering the dining room. “Breakfast first, babygirl.”

“Then presents?” she asked, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. 

“Then presents,” Joel nodded. You followed Joel and Sarah to the dining table, sitting in the same seat when you first met the little girl. Immediately, she scrambled away from Joel’s arms and moved to sit next to you like she always did. 

The three of you ate breakfast, laughter filling Joel’s home. He watched you and Sarah interact, seeing you make silly faces in her direction. Sarah was enamored with you, staring at you with such excitement in her eyes. Sarah was always a happy baby, but once she got to school and realized that there was something – or someone – missing in her life, his little girl’s behavior had changed. She had begun to realize that all of her friends, or the majority of the kids she went to school with, had a mom and dad. It was a conversation that Joel had to have several times with her. 

But ever since Sarah met you, the light in his babygirl’s eyes came back. The laughter, the smile, the joy and carefree nature she always exuded was back… and he couldn’t thank you enough. 

“Okay, all done. Presents now!” Sarah exclaimed, setting her fork down and climbing out of her chair. She ran into the living room, glancing over her shoulder to see that you and Joel hadn’t followed her. It didn’t take her long for her to run back into the living room, hands on hips, staring between you and Joel. 

“Presents?” she asked, tapping her foot on the floor.

“She’s always been this sassy?” you teased, standing from your chair. 

Joel chuckled, following you and walking over in Sarah’s direction. “Oh, always.” 

Sarah’s smile broadened when she saw you and Joel follow her to the living room. Her gifts were on the coffee table and she sat on the floor, watching both you and Joel sit on the couch. 

Without hesitation, she began opening gift after gift. With each unwrapping of the present, Sarah shrieked in excitement, followed by plenty of thank you thank you thank you’s. It was when she got to one of your last gifts that she let the tears fall from her eyes. 

“Oh, babygirl, what’s wrong?” Joel asked, moving from the couch to sit on the floor with Sarah, pulling her into his lap.

“I’m just so happy,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her arm. Sarah held up the gift you had gotten her: a butterfly night light projector. 

“Do you love it?” you asked, biting your lower lip.

Sarah nodded, holding it close to her chest. “Yes, thank you.” She set it down on the coffee table and stood from Joel’s lap to walk over to you. Her arms extended out in front of her and you smiled, leaning down to give her a tight hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re my daddy’s friend,” she whispered. 

“I’m glad too,” you said quietly, your eyes locking with Joel’s. “You got an amazing daddy.” 

“And he’s got an amazing friend.” Sarah pulled back to look up at you. 

You smiled and brought a hand to gently wipe her fallen tears, giving her a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “And he’s got an even more amazing daughter.” 

A grin spread along the little girl’s lips and she pulled away, biting her lower lip as she looked between you and Joel. “Okay, I’ll get ready and then we can go to the fair.” 

Joel chuckled, watching his little girl walk towards her room. “She only turned seven, but she’s acting like a mini adult now.” 

“Just wait until she’s a teenager,” you laughed, leaning back against his couch. Joel stood from the ground with a quiet grunt, flashing you a warning look as he moved to sit next to you. “Thank you for the gifts, darlin’. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her this happy.” 

You tilted your head, looking over in his direction. “What do you mean? She seems like she’s always happy.” 

Joel sighed. “It’s been tough ever since she started school.”

You arched your brow, turning to face him as you brought your legs underneath you. “Is she being bullied?” 

Joel shook his head immediately. “No, no. If she was, you’d be damn sure I’d do somethin’ about it.” 

“Then what is it?” 

He cleared his throat. “She sees all her friends and all these other kids with a dad and mom.” 

“Oh,” you bit your lower lip. “That can be very tough,” you sighed. “But I can relate. I spent my entire life without either, so I can understand what she might be feeling. Did you want me to talk to her?” 

Joel didn’t know how to answer. He knew that your grandpa raised you and you had only mentioned a few times that your parents died young, but he never thought of asking you to talk to Sarah about your own experiences. It felt like a boundary that he didn’t want to cross, but now that you were offering, he had to wonder if it was okay to ask that of you. 

“I don’t–” he sighed. “I don’t wanna put you in a difficult position, darlin’. I mean, she’s already attached at the hip with you and I don’t want her gettin’ any ideas that–”

“That we’re together?” You finished for him, biting your lower lip nervously. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, glancing over at you. “I know being in a relationship isn’t somethin’ you’re looking for and I don’t want you thinking that I’m–”

You shook your head and gently reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Relax, Joel. You’re overthinking.” 

He chuckled nervously, looking down at your hand. “I just don’t want to scare you away.”

“I thought we established you’re my best friend? You can’t scare me away.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said. 

“If you want me to talk to her, Joel, I’d be happy to.” 

“Really?” 

You chuckled, dropping your hand from his forearm. “Yes, Joel. I care about Sarah and I care about you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

—

Tommy met with you, Joel, and Sarah at the fair. He was the complete opposite of Joel: more outgoing, extroverted, and able to strike a conversation with just about anyone. You had to wonder if Joel being a young father made him more reserved, quiet, and careful with people he came across. 

Sarah was holding your hand, running through the crowd of people to get to one of the games that seemed to always be rigged. You scooped her up into your arms and pointed out the several options of stuffed animals that winners of the game could get to choose from. She leaned against you and pointed at the big, light brown teddy bear. 

“I wanna get that one,” she smiled. 

“Oh, that might be tough.”

“I have faith in you,” Sarah giggled. 

Joel and Tommy were trailing behind the both of you, glancing around the busy fair. It was a sunny day out, not too hot and not too cold either. It was perfect and Joel found himself staring at you for far too long; even Tommy started to notice. 

“How long you gonna wait?” Tommy asked.

“What do you mean?” 

Tommy chuckled, taking a piece of the cotton candy he was holding for Sarah. “You look like you’re in love, hermano. How long are you gonna wait until you tell her how you feel?” 

“Love?” Joel scoffed, biting the inside of his cheek. “She’s just a friend, Tommy,” he repeated. 

“You’re still gonna stick to that, huh?” 

Joel reached out to gently shove Tommy, letting out a quiet huff. “Tommy, she ain’t ready and I don’t want to force anythin’ on her. If I’m meant to be with her, then it’ll work itself out. I’m fine with just bein’ her friend.” 

“Until you see her with another man, then what?” 

“Then I suppose I’ll deal with that if it ever comes,” he shrugged. Joel would be lying if he said he never thought of it, how he would feel or react if he were to see you with another man that wasn’t him. “I’d just rather have her the way she is now than not have her at all, or risk losing it.” 

Tommy nodded, reaching over to clasp a hand on his brother’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “She’s a good one, Joel. And she’s great with Sarah.”

“Sarah loves her,” Joel sighed. “Part of me is waitin’ for her to mention somethin’ about us being together.” 

Tommy chuckled. “Knowing Sarah, she’s definitely gonna bring it up.”

“What am I gonna say?” Joel asked.

“Tell her that she’s just your friend,” Tommy winked, beginning to run from Joel, knowing that his older brother would definitely shove him again. 

Joel couldn’t help but laugh, following Tommy who was running in your direction. This had been the happiest Joel had ever been and when you turned with Sarah in your arms, your eyes meeting his, Joel wanted nothing more than to just scoop you into his arms and give you a kiss. He wanted to tell you how much you had changed his life, how you make him want to be a better man, a better person, a better father, and how since meeting you, Joel felt alive again. 

As Joel walked closer to you, he saw you hand Sarah over to Tommy and reach for the basketball, immediately taking the shot and hearing a quiet swish. 

“You did it! You did it!” Sarah exclaimed, scrambling to her feet and jumping up and down right next to you. 

You let out a laugh, visibly surprised that you made the shot as you pointed to the big, light brown teddy bear that Sarah mentioned. Once the worker handed you the stuffed animal, you turned to Sarah and kneeled down to be at eye level with her, taking the bear’s cushioned arms and wrapping it around the little girl. 

“All yours, Sarah,” you smiled. “Happy birthday, sweet girl.” 

Sarah grinned and gently set the bear down to give you a tight hug. “You’re the best.” 

You let out a quiet, contented sigh and looked up at Joel, smiling in his direction. “How are you gonna carry this bear? It’s bigger than you,” you teased, poking her side once you pulled away. 

“I’m seven now. I can handle it,” she said with a confident nod. 

“Here, let’s go and put this back in the car, Sarah,” Tommy said, hoisting the teddy bear over his shoulder and handing the little girl the cotton candy. “We’ll be back.” 

Once Tommy and Sarah left, you stood up and looked up at Joel, biting your lower lip.

“I can’t believe you actually made that shot,” he chuckled.

“Me too. I never win those.” 

“That was great,” he continued. “What you did for Sarah.” 

“She’s an amazing little girl, Joel. She deserves the world.” 

Joel smiled. He surprised you when he pulled you into a tight hug, which you fell into almost instantly. Your face buried against his chest as your arms snaked around his midsection. You could feel Joel’s lips against your temple, whispering quietly in your ear. 

“You deserve the world too, darlin’.”

“Could say the same for you, cowboy.” 

“She really loves you, you know,” Joel said, pulling away to look down at you. 

“Is it weird to say that I love her too?” you replied, looking up at him. 

“You do?” he asked, surprised. 

“I do,” you nodded. “I haven’t been this happy in a very long time, Joel. I think that’s because of you and because of Sarah.”

Joel bit his lower lip, his eyes never deviating from yours. “You make me feel alive, darlin’,” he whispered. “I’m just so–”

“Daddy!” Sarah exclaimed, running towards the both of you. You pulled away from Joel, creating some distance between the both of you as you looked down at Sarah. Joel scooped her into his arms and gave you a quick glance before turning his attention to Sarah.

“What’s next, babygirl?” 

“Can we go to those photobooth thingies?” she asked, resting her head against his shoulder. 

“Me and you?” Joel asked.

“Me, you, and,” Sarah looked over at you and smiled. “Her.” 

“Oh, I don’t know if we’ll fit, babygirl.” 

“Yes, we will. Please,” she said, batting her eyelashes up at her dad. 

You let out a quiet chuckle and reached for Joel’s hand, deciding to lead the way as you looked around to see Tommy striking up a conversation with a random woman. 

Joel’s eyes dropped to your hand before he followed your eyes to Tommy, letting out a quiet chuckle. “He never quits.” 

“He’s a handsome man,” you pointed out. “I’m sure it’s easy for him.”

Joel bit his lower lip and clasped your hand, allowing you to lead the way. “You think he’s handsome?” 

You looked over your shoulder at Joel and smiled. “Yeah, but you’re more my type,” you winked. 

Joel was about to say something before you opened the curtain of the photobooth, looking inside and tilting your head. He sat inside first, bringing Sarah on his lap. You then squeezed inside, the sides of your bodies flush against one another as Sarah’s arms wrapped around your neck and Joel’s, keeping you both close. 

“See, told you we’d fit.” Sarah pointed out. 

Joel shook his head and paid for the photobooth, seeing the different options and allowing Sarah to choose. It was obvious that she had chosen the frame with purple butterflies and red hearts. The filmstrip would contain four pictures and once she clicked start, the screen began counting down.

“Smile first!” she said, her grin broadening. 

You and Joel followed her lead, smiling directly into the camera as the flash went off.

“And then a silly one,” Sarah said. 

The countdown for the second picture went off. You looked over at Sarah and noticed her sticking her tongue out. Joel crossed his eyes, his cheek resting against Sarah’s. As the flash went off, you realized that you were smiling lovingly at both Sarah and Joel, knowing that you didn’t do the silly face that Sarah wanted you to. 

For the third picture, Sarah scrambled onto your lap instead and wrapped her arms around your neck. You smiled and held her close as she looked over at Joel and said, “Daddy, put your arm around her.”

Joel bit his lower lip and looked down at you, seeing you nod your approval before his arm snaked around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. 

The flash went off, both you and Joel staring at each other while Sarah was smiling at the camera. 

And for the last and final picture, you and Joel decided to let Sarah be the only one. Both of you were standing outside of the photobooth, looking into each other’s eyes as you both heard Sarah’s giggles. 

“This was an amazing day,” Joel said. “Thank you for spendin’ it with us, darlin’.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you replied. “I don’t ever want this day to end,” you admitted.

“Have dinner with us?” 

“You sure you’re not getting tired of me?” you chuckled. 

“Never,” Joel answered. “I could never get tired of you, darlin’.

—

prev. - next.

[frillyfacefins]

Ozzie's Toy (Ozzie/Fizzarolli)

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Asmodeus/Fizzarolli Tags: Amputation Kink, human fleshlight, more like imp fleshlight but you get my drift, Kind of Body Horror, fizz has some major ptsd about the whole amputation business, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Power Imbalance, ozzie's bodily fluids have mildly magical properties, this is set early in their relationship, kinda dark bc they're not really communicating here, Fizz thinks he has to do whatever Ozzie wants so Ozzie will keep him Word Count: 4,809

Also on AO3

Summary:

„You‘re being so good for me, Fizzy.“ Ozzie braces himself on his elbows above Fizzarolli, bracketing his entire body with his arms. Fizz is so small like this - half his usual size when his legs aren‘t extended. „I‘m going to blow your fucking mind tonight…“ Fizzarolli tries to grin; he‘s pretty sure it works. „You better, cupcake… I‘m not doing this kinky shit just so you can get an eye full…“ Ozzie‘s eyes crinkle, and oh, that feels better. He just has to lean into it. „So what else is on the menu tonight, beside 100% pure imp meat with no additives?“ He wriggles his stumps a little in a mockery of seductive writhing and bats his lashes at Ozzie. *~*~* Fizz always takes what Ozzie gives him. And if that's an order to take off his limbs for the night? Well, he's not going to say no, is he?

Author's Note:

This originally had a happier ending, but then I wrote the tags of this fic and realized that... Nah. Needs to be nastier. I mean, listen, this is smut between a weird jester demon and the literal embodiment of the sin of Lust, written by me, what did you expect?

(Or, as my friend said: "Don't be afraid to go meaner.")

Fizzarolli is done for the night. The house band is playing the last guests out and the bouncers are going through the restrooms to find whatever stragglers are either fucking or passed out in there. He still feels sweaty and amped up when he comes into Ozzie‘s office and hops onto his desk.

„All good?“ Ozzie asks while he carefully puts some fishy-smelling papers into a pink file folder and then into the out-tray for paperwork that needs to get to other rings. Fizz feels weird at the thought that he now knows the meaning of every one of Ozzie‘s color-coded document trays. The things he does for the best lay in hell…

„All good. Ya might rethink hiring acts from Sloth, though. That Horse-bitch was an hour late, so we had to juggle the schedule…“

Ozzie reaches for Fizz and rubs one large finger over his head. „That‘s why the other acts were from Lust, Fizzy. She‘s a favorite of Belphy‘s, so I figured she was good, but if you don‘t like her we don‘t have to have her back. Not like she‘ll care.“

Fizzerolli shrugs. „She wasn‘t that bad. Next time we should schedule her first instead of third, though, so she might actually show before midnight…“

„Hmm,“ Ozzie hums and swivels around to pull one of the many file drawers open. He pulls out the file with the demoness‘s name on it, makes a note on a pink post-it, and adds it.

„Why the fuck are you still using paper,“ Fizz grouses, not for the first time. „You know computers have been invented, right?“

„Fizzy darling, I know enough about robotics and all that shit to know that I do not want a machine to have all of my documentation,“ Ozzie says patiently as he puts the file away again.

Fizzarolli‘s robotic joints whir as he crosses his legs and leans back until he is lying on the desk and looking at Ozzie upside-down. „But it would give you more time to spend with me, Ozzie…“ he whines.

Ozzie chuckles and teasingly pulls on one of Fizz‘s hat tails. „Aw, are you jealous of my paperwork, Fizzipop?“ At least he is putting away his fancy ass fountain pen now, and Fizzarolli immediately begins to wag his tail - the one attached to his butt, not the hat one.

„Of course I‘m jealous. I‘m jealous of everything you spend time on that isn‘t me,“ he says with a broad grin.

„Aw, poor Fizzy“ the larger demon purrs, standing up and plucking his favorite little jester off his desk. „I guess I‘ll have to make it up to you that I‘ve spent so much time today on these acquisition forms, hm…“

Fizz‘s grin grows wider as he goes boneless in Ozzie‘s hand instead of jumping on his shoulder, so he has to carry him. „Yep, you have to, Ozzie,“ he says on a cackle.

Ozzie lets out a little huff of blue smoke, then he opens a portal to his palace and steps right through. The portal opens right into their bedroom instead of the kitchen where they would usually have a snack after work. That‘s just fine with Fizz, though - he is definitely hungry for something different than pizza rolls, and by the looks of him, so is Ozzie.

The portal closes noiselessly, and Ozzie puts his top hat onto its hat stand and starts to undo his vest.

„Clothes off, Fizzy, and then move your cute little ass onto the bed.“

His anticipation is making Fizzarolli vibrate so much that the bells on his outfit are jingling. He quickly undoes his ruffled collar, throwing it to the side in a cacophony of bells before he slips off the cuffs on his wrists and his high heels. He wriggles out of his shirt and pants while he‘s on his way onto the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind in his eagerness to finally get Ozzie‘s undivided attention.

„Hat too, Fizzy.“

That request makes Fizzarolli go still. There is only gentle amusement in Ozzie‘s voice, as if he‘s asking him to not drag dirt onto the carpets when what he is actually asking him is to take off his armor, to put his most vulnerable parts on display. If Ozzie was just going to fuck him even more silly than he already was, he wouldn‘t ask something like that from him.

His anticipation settles into dread. There is no place for shame in the Lust ring, but he still feels confused and vaguely guilty.

„Did I do something wrong, Ozzie?“ he asks in a small voice.

Ozzie, now only clad in his half-unbuttoned pink shirt and his thigh-high boots, turns around to look at him. His face softens when he sees the insecure look on his little favorite‘s face.

„No, baby, don‘t worry.“ He is at the bed with one step, and Fizz has to adjust his balance when he sits down and makes the mattress quake. Ozzie reaches over to him and pets his head again, gently rubbing his fingers down to his shoulder blades. „There‘s something I wanted to try for a while, but I need you completely open and vulnerable for that. If you‘re not up for intense stuff, we don‘t have to do it, though.“

Fizzarolli frowns, then he shoots out his arms and propels himself up to Ozzie‘s shoulder. Ozzie‘s hand immediately comes up to rub his back again while Fizz rubs his face into his light-blue fluff. The disembodied bull-face snuggles up to him in turn. „Nah, let‘s do it. You just caught me off guard, is all.“

The thought of taking off his hat makes him nauseous, but in the end, it‘s no big deal, right? Ozzie has seen him without it before; he doesn‘t ever seem to be disgusted by the state of him. If Ozzie wants him that way - if he wants to see him like that - then Fizzarolli will do what he wants, like he always does.

Fizz has always been proud that he can keep up with Ozzie most of the time; that he can find pleasure in the weirdest kinks, that he can be presented with a sexual preference or a new kind of play and immediately understand what about it is hot enough to tempt the Embodiment of Lust.

He doesn‘t want to be a party-pooper, ever. Ozzie is the best thing that ever happened to him, and even when he asks him to do things like this for him - things that make him tingle in a less than pleasant way, things that make him feel small and helpless - he wants to make him happy.

Ozzie turns his main face towards him and gives his forehead a little peck. „Alright, baby. Do you want me to take it off for you?“

Fizzarolli takes a deep breath and concentrates on the feeling of Ozzie‘s fluff against his cheek. „Yes, please,“ he says in a soft voice and closes his eyes.

He feels the bull-face rub against him again, causing a weird, slightly electrical tingling to run from his cheek down into his tense shoulders. He feels Ozzie tug at his hat tail again, but this time he tugs until it slides off his head. His head feels immediately cold. Usually he doesn‘t even take the hat off to sleep. He can feel the air against the top of his nubs, where the vestiges of his cornual nerves still give the broken remnants of his horns some feeling, though it always feels like carefully prodding an open wound - not really painful, but also definitely not pleasurable.

Ozzie gives him a little rub between his horns, where touches still feel good, and where Ozzie rarely gets to touch him. His hat is carefully put aside with a tiny jingle, then Ozzie scoops him off his shoulder and holds him with both hands in the air while he gives him a slow, sweet kiss. He‘s being so gentle with him that Fizz heart aches in that way that feels nearly like a panic attack.

He puts him down with his head on his gigantic pillows and throws off his shirt, so they both are finally naked. Fizzarolli shivers with delight at the way Ozzie is bending over him, filling his entire field of vision with his dark blue immensity, Fizz‘s very own night sky, with Ozzie‘s smiling eyes two beautiful moons surrounded by pale blue fog, his colorful rooster tail an aurora in the periphery of his view.

Ozzie kisses the mark on his forehead, then his lips. He lingers there for a moment, and Fizzarolli opens his mouth to get a taste of his favorite drug. Ozzie indulges him, licking into his mouth, making his body buzz with his saliva. Fizzarolli know‘s it‘s not addictive - that it only has very weak aphrodisic properties, not comparable to Ozzie‘s precum or slick, but it just gives him enough, just makes him feel warm and loose and tingly, and he just can‘t imagine ever living without.

Maybe because just imagining that would send him down a spiral he wouldn‘t be able to pull himself out of.

„You taste like appletinis, Fizzy baby,“ Ozzie whispers against his face, then he moves farther down and kisses both of his nipples. Fizzarolli is shivering now, sighing and mewling with pleasure. He is still so sensitive when it comes to Ozzie… Even the way he kisses his stomach makes his cock jerk with need.

Ozzie indulges him, laving his broad tongue over Fizzarolli‘s cock and balls before he lets it slip down over his taint for just a second.

He pulls away before Fizz can really start enjoying himself. He sits back on his haunches and looks at his little imp as if he was an especially appetizing piece of sushi. He even licks his lips. Fizz feels himself heat up under that look. It‘s a little like the rush he gets when he‘s on stage, but deeper, more dangerous and maybe even more real. He doesn‘t need to put up an act, doesn’t need to be funny or clever or energetic. He has always loved being looked at - craves it more than anything else. But nobody has ever looked at him quite like Asmodeus does.

Being desired by the Lord of all Desires… It‘s no wonder he feels dizzy.

„Take off your arms and legs, Fizzy,“ Ozzie rumbles above him, and Fizzarolli feels like his heart stops.

„…What?“

Ozzie‘s face changes in the way it would if he had eyebrows and raised one. „You heard me, Fizzy…“ His voice is like hot cocoa spiked with whiskey as he trails a finger down Fizzarolli‘s breastbone to his belly button. „Take them off. I want you soft and helpless for me, baby. None of the whirly parts.“

When Fizz still hesitates, Ozzie kisses him again and gives his lower lip a nibble. Fizzarolli doesn‘t know if it‘s supposed to be a warning or a comfort.

„Just think of it as reverse bondage, darling,“ he whispers when he pulls away again.

Reverse bondage. Sure. He can do that for Ozzie. He can let go of his arms and legs for the demon who freed him from Mammon, who looked at him and saw through his costume and his act and still wanted what he saw. He can give himself up to him for a night. Right?

He ignores the way his heart beats against his stomach and swallows down the dread and the acid. He takes off his legs first. Pushing the pressure points of the complex release mechanism feels unnatural, wrong, not unlike pushing your fingers into an open wound when you’re hopped up on so many drugs you can no longer feel pain. He does the same with his left arm, but Ozzie has to help with the right one. Fizz can extend it far enough that his hand can reach his upper arm, but the angle isn’t quite right and he can’t get a proper grip on the mechanism. Ozzie has been talking about using advanced cybernetics to bond the limbs to his body - Fizzarolli isn’t sure how exactly that would work, just that they would need to heighten the nerve control he uses to move his limbs, and that would mean Ozzie would have to fuck around with his spine, put a chip in there or something.

Fizz isn’t ready to let him do that. So for now, the attachments remain mechanic.

Ozzie kisses him deeply while he picks up his prosthetics. Fizzarolli watches him move to the side of the bed and carefully set down the bundle of metal limbs on the plush carpet.

„You‘re being so good for me, Fizzy.“ Ozzie braces himself on his elbows above Fizzarolli, bracketing his entire body with his arms. Fizz is so small like this - half his usual size when his legs aren‘t extended. „I‘m going to blow your fucking mind tonight…“

Fizzarolli tries to grin; he‘s pretty sure it works. „You better, cupcake… I‘m not doing this kinky shit just so you can get an eye full…“

Ozzie‘s eyes crinkle, and oh, that feels better. He just has to lean into it.

„So what else is on the menu tonight, beside 100% pure imp meat with no additives?“ He wriggles his stumps a little in a mockery of seductive writhing and bats his lashes at Ozzie.

Ozzie lowers himself over Fizz until he can feel his fluffy feathers tickle his naked belly. „Well, you see, my little darling…“ He kisses his cheeks, his forehead, his horn stumps and then back down. „For dessert, I was thinking about stuffing my favorite little jester like an eclair, pump you full until the cream‘s coming out on both ends…“

Fizzarolli lets out a deep purr. „Hmmm, I can definitely get behind that idea…“ He strains up to catch Ozzie‘s lip in a cheeky little nip. Ozzie growls at him, then he kisses him hard, and Fizz can‘t help it that his purring becomes so loud that it‘s shaking all that is left of his body. It‘s instinct that he tries to embrace Ozzie; he can only push his stumps against Ozzie‘s feathers, of course, but at least his tail can still reach the back of Ozzie‘s head and try to push him closer.

It‘s difficult to stop thinking and sink into lust when his body isn‘t working like it normally does.

But this is how Ozzie wants him tonight, and he makes that clear when he pushes his hands under Fizzarolli‘s body, one under his shoulders, the other under his butt, so he can lift all of him when he sits up. He lifts him to his mouth and licks a broad strip from his balls up to his chest, the way you do with a cigarette paper before you roll it.

„Mm…“ he goes, taking another lick of his chest. „Delicious…“

It‘s a good thing that Fizz doesn‘t have issues with heights. It‘s not unlike trapeze, being handled like this. With no way to catch himself if he falls, he has to to completely trust Ozzie as he moves him around like a rag doll. Ozzie keeps licking and kissing and nibbling his skin, giving his stumps as much attention as his chest and his belly before he flips him around and holds him slightly head-down while he works his tongue between his ass cheeks. In this position, Fizz can at least do more with his prehensile tail than just rub over Ozzie‘s feathers. He pushes the tip of his tail into Ozzie‘s neck fluff and grabs a bushel of it as well as he can, just to regain the tiniest bit of control as Ozzie makes a meal of his hole.

It doesn‘t take long until Fizzarolli is sweating and cursing and shivering in Ozzie‘s hands, desperately trying to pull him closer with his tail but just ending up tugging at him helplessly. Ozzie is so fucking good at this - no wonder with him having an actual sixth sense for other people‘s lust and desires. His tongue is literal magic, reaching deeper inside of Fizz than it has any right to, and when he pulls it out and flicks it through his crack he even hits that spot right under his tail perfectly.

The hot, wet tongue swipes down again, but this time it moves down his taint and over his balls, before it wraps around his cock in a way that makes Fizz see stars. The wave of pleasure coming off him has to hit Ozzie right in the face, because he can hear the demon king behind him moan deep in his throat.

Ozzie gives his crotch a last long lick, pushing it against his belly, and then he pulls back and flips Fizz around again. Ozzie‘s face splits in a satisfied grin.

„Such a lovely meal,“ he rumbles. He has to put him down for the next part; even with their size difference, Ozzie can‘t comfortably hold him up in the kind of position he needs him in when he starts fingering him open. Ozzie‘s finger is already magically slick when he pushes it into Fizzarolli‘s spit-wet hole. His sex magic isn‘t functionally different from the Concubi, though like everything about Ozzie it is more intense, more potent. While his spit works like a mix of alcohol and pheromones, and his slick and precum prolong and intensify his partners‘ orgasms, the lube he conjures up to cover his fingers immediately makes Fizz‘s hole relax. Sometimes he wonders if it makes him more sensitive, but there‘s no real way to answer that. Sex with Ozzie is like nothing else, even when they use toys instead of Ozzie‘s body. There are so many reasons for that, of course - starting with Fizz‘ limited experience, which is nearly completely comprised of partners who weren‘t very experienced themselves or of partners who didn‘t care about Fizz‘s pleasure. Of course he got his mind blown when he‘d been swept off his feet by the King of the Lust Ring himself, the embodiment of that very sin, whose very being combines everything debauched and indulgent and pleasurable.

When his finger pulls out, Fizzarolli immediately feels empty. He doesn‘t really need preparation, since a) they only had sex yesterday and b) nothing physical could ever prepare him for Ozzie‘s sheer size, so there is magic involved anyway, but Ozzie loves to touch every part of him, to mark and claim every nook and cranny of his little jester.

At some point, Fizz must have closed his eyes, because when he opens them he sees that Ozzie is staring down at him. He can feel those glowing eyes travel over his body, over his sweaty face, the mottled red and white of his skin, his flicking tail and his shivering stumps. He drinks in the sight of his slender, dripping cock lying against his belly, a soft sigh coming out on a wave of blue smoke as he rubs his thumb over what is left of Fizzarolli‘s inner thigh.

Something about that look on Ozzie‘s face is too much for Fizz, so he does the only thing he knows to do when he needs to get out of any kind of situation.

„What‘s the hold-up, Big O? Don‘t tell me you‘re out of juice already?“ He pushes his hips up, wiggling his ass and wrapping his tail around Ozzie‘s wrist. „Don‘t leave me hanging here…“

Ozzie makes a chastising clucking noise and pushes the tip of his thumb against the rim of Fizz‘ wet, sensitive hole. „So impatient, baby… Be a doll and let Daddy enjoy the view for a bit.“

„Can‘t do much more than be a doll here anyway,“ Fizzarolli complains, wiggling his limbless body some more. „Or maybe more of a sausage than a doll…“

„Oh, I know exactly what you are, Fizzy baby…“ Finally Ozzie lifts him up again, and his grin makes something in his belly do cartwheels. „I think I just had an idea for some new merchandise…“ He shifts him into one hand for a moment to line up his cock with Fizz‘s achingly empty hole. He pushes until his cockhead slides in, then he grasps Fizz‘s trembling body in both hands and slowly, slowly pulls him down his length. „How much, do you think, would people pay for an authentic fleshlight replica of that lovely hole, complete with a little wise-cracking robo-fizz head? Kinda like one of those talking dolls, just pre-recorded voice lines and those nut-wrenching noises you make when you really enjoy the dicking you‘re getting…“

Just then Ozzie bottoms out, and Fizz is spasming around his cock, garbling out something that might have been a moan or a cry of pain as his brain is getting overloaded with pleasure.

„That‘s exactly what I‘m talking about,“ Ozzie says on a low rumble that‘s more from his throat than his belly, more of a bird coo than an imp‘s purring, but that still makes Fizz feel warm and fuzzy in a different way than the bone-melting heat wrecking his body as Ozzie slowly drags him back and forth on his cock. It‘s a real mind-fuck to imagine how he looks right now, but because Fizz‘s mind has always been fucked, he can‘t help but think about how Ozzie is literally using him like a fleshlight, how his body is nothing but a flesh cylinder for Ozzie to jack off with. He doesn‘t know if he‘s horrified or exhilarated at the thought. These days, he often can‘t tell those two things apart.

It feels so fucking good, though. Sex with Ozzie is always incredible, obviously, but just the fact that he doesn‘t have to think about what to do with his limbs, that he can‘t control anything but the tightness of his core and his swishing tail… He doesn‘t have to do anything - he can‘t do anything. He just has to exist in his body and take whatever Ozzie decides to give him.

And what Ozzie is giving him is incredibly good dick.

He is still moving him like a fleshlight, but while his motions earlier were slow and drawn-out, luxuriating in the tight heat of his body, now his motions are becoming faster. His hands are squeezing Fizz‘s body more as he jerks himself off with it, the eyes of all three of his heads are closed, his pumping becoming more and more erratic.

It‘s a wonder that Fizz hasn‘t already come, but he can feel that he‘s not going to last much longer. He closes his eyes as well and just sinks into the feeling, until he is nothing more but flesh singing with pleasure, both feeding Ozzie with his lust and getting him off with his body. He draws in a sharp breath as everything starts coming to a head, and all of his muscles contract, the remnants of his arms and legs cramping because he can‘t hold on to anything. Ozzie pulls him off nearly all the way, and then pulls him onto his cock again so hard that it pushes the breath straight out of Fizzarolli‘s lungs. He lets out a strangled cry as he comes all over the both of them, his body shaking violently as Ozzie fucks burst after burst out of him. At some point Ozzie has started to come too, and his cum is making Fizz’s body even more sensitive. Fizz can feel the way his climax comes back in full force after his cock spurts the second time, and he whimpers and whines and eventually screams with whatever strength he has left as he just keeps coming, his body completely in thrall to Ozzie‘s sublime nature.

When Ozzie finally stops moving, Fizzarolli feels like a wrung-out dishrag. He is soaked with sweat and his own jizz, the cramps have left his muscles throbbing and sore, and his ass feels as if he just fucking gave birth or something. Ozzie pulls his cock out of him, and a wave of hot, magic cum follows in its wake, dripping down along his tail in that way that always makes him feel like he needs to shake himself like a wet dog. Too bad he doesn‘t have the energy to do anything about that right now.

He shouldn‘t have been worried, though. Ozzie takes his after-care pretty seriously. He‘s still got Fizz in both of his hands, and now he starts to lick him clean from his chest down to his tail. The goat and the bull head are helping, though they are more tickling and nibbling than really cleaning him up properly. Of course Ozzie spends the most time at his hole, soothing his stretched-out rim with long, deep licks and gentle sucking before he finally licks the last remains of his cum off Fizz‘s tail. When he pulls away, Fizz strokes the tip of his tail over Ozzie‘s cheek and gets a little kiss on it in exchange.

When Ozzie finally puts him down, Fizz feels like he‘s about to fall asleep. He still feels sticky and sweaty, but his body has been so thoroughly used and his orgasm has hit him so hard that even keeping his eyes open feels like too much when the bed beneath him is so soft and Ozzie‘s body hovering over him, gently kissing his face, is so warm. He knows he should go have a shower, but even while he hears Ozzie suggest as much, his eyes fall shut and he sinks into comfortable, dreamless darkness.

When he wakes up hours later, his limbs are on his body again, and Ozzie is sleeping peacefully next to him.

Fizzarolli carefully disentangles himself from Ozzie and the blanket he has pulled over his body and grabs his cap from the side of the bed. He holds the bells still so they don’t make a sound as he walks out of the bedroom and through the hallway to the big bathroom. He could have used the ensuite, of course, but he needs some more walls between him and Ozzie - some more doors.

He puts his hat down on the counter and turns the hot water on in the shower. It takes him a moment to work the handle. His hands feel weird, like a computer that got rebooted and is now trying to deal with security upgrades.

His hips hurt. He knows it’s likely because of how strenuous the sex was, but he feels like they hurt from standing. Like something is wrong with the attachments of his legs. Like just being out of them for a few hours was enough to warp them, to make them incompatible with his body.

His arms feel so heavy, and his head feels so light.

He feels like he’s been put back together wrong.

It’s bullshit, of course. His arms and legs work as well as they always do, and the fit is also good. Ozzie designed these things, for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t put them on wrong.

He steps into the steaming shower and closes the glass door behind him. For a while, he just stands there and lets the hot water wash away his sweat and anything that remains from Ozzie’s tongue bath. He’s used to water on his horns - he can’t really wear the hat in the shower, after all - but he wonders how it would feel on his stumps. He’s tempted to take off his legs again, to just sit on the shower floor, maybe until he drowns.

He’s being stupid. A stupid little bitch who gets hung up on harmless bullshit like this.

If Ozzie wants to have him that way, Fizz will give that to him, because Fizz is the luckiest motherfucker in hell because Ozzie wants him. Not just for a fling or a week or as a side piece or anything - he is living with him. They’re brushing their teeth at the same fucking sink. How could Fizz refuse Ozzie anything he wants?

He can’t. It’s that simple.

He belongs to Ozzie. Everything he has, everything he is - Ozzie gave him that. His job at the club, the robots, his limbs…

Of course Ozzie can fuck him however he wants.

It’s fine. He’s just being stupid. It’s just sex. He didn’t take his limbs away to humiliate him or to punish him. It’s fine.

He’s just being stupid.

He turns the water off and gets out, dries off as quickly as he can and puts his hat on. The bells jingle gently when he comes back into the bedroom and climbs into bed.

Ozzie wakes up just enough to reach out for him and pull him into a hug.

“Did you go wash up, baby?” he mumbles, still half-asleep.

“Yeah,” Fizz says, and rubs his face into his blue fluff. “Go back to sleep, Ozzie…”

[justaprick]

november 6th presbyterian hospital, nyc

vince bounced the small blue ball against the walls of his makeshift isolation room. the guards outside had told him to stop, several times, but their annoyance was the least of his problems right now. with one of his hands tightly cuffed to the uncomfortable hospital bed it was the only form of entertainment he could think of besides jerking off; and he figured he'd save that for when he got really bored.

seemed that most people who caught this thing didn't stay alive long enough to make it to the hospital, which was the first of several reasons vince had been deemed a priority subject when they'd caught him trying to get out of the city. he'd been stuck in the small patient room for a handful of hours, nurses occasionally coming in to take blood or check his temperature. they always stopped at the door before coming in. took a good, long look at him and tried to determine if it was still safe to go in or if he'd succumbed to whatever primal rage that had been taking everyone else. vince liked to reassure them with a nice wink and a smile. a promise that he was on his best behavior and maybe as a thank you they could get him a cell phone or unhook his hand or give him some pants that actually covered his fucking ass.

there was one nurse in particular he felt he was making progress with. short, freckles. the quiet type. he always knew when it was her coming because she couldn't reach the window to get a clear look inside and would always have the guards do a visual check for her before the door opened.

he caught the ball as it bounced back into his hand and settled against the hard mattress in an attempt to look as pitiful as she seemed to think he was.

"hiya marcie." vince greeted her. "long time no see."

"how are you feeling mr. lanier?" she approached the machines next to him to review his vitals.

"despondent? melancholy?"

marcie frowned at his answers. she remained several steps away and fidgeted with an empty vial. "i'm afraid we need another sample.." she waited for some indication of permission.

"sure, sure. anything to help end this plight upon mankind."

she approached him and began the process, an open line already inserted into his wrist for ease of access. usually marcie was more receptive to his attempts at humor and vince began to worry at her change in demeanor. he watched her closely and noticed a slight shake in her usually steady hands.

"...marcie?"

she didn't look at him. focused on the crimson that was spilling from him and into the plastic vial.

"marcie?" he repeated, more sternly, likely giving her flashbacks to an earlier episode of anger she had witnessed him in when he was first informed of his forced quarantine.

she was silent for several long seconds and vince wondered which approach was more likely to get him answers; charismatic or violent. he was willing to use either.

"the CDC are setting up a quarantine camp outside city limits. they're doing.. tests. collecting samples. doctor blanche told them about you today. they were very... intrigued.. by your case." marcie collected the now full vial of blood and pressed a small piece of gauze to his skin. "they're going to get back to doctor blanche with some ideas... tests they want him to run."

he read between the lines.

tests that may not be very pleasent.

tests that he may not survive.

"thanks marcie."

[kochanski]

Crimson & Clover (rated T)

No major content warnings apply, Kochanski/Lister focused. Mild flirting/sexual content, very PG13 lol

Summary: Kochanski falls in love with Lister, over and over. A short anthology set in four alternate universes; Series 1 Kochanski meet-cute, Deb/Kochanski stuck in an escape pod, Holo!Lister/Kochanski roommates, canon-ish series 7 Lister/Kochanski sharing food

Chapter One: I Don't Hardly Know Her

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Kochanski glanced over her shoulder. She'd seen him around, usually fiddling with a malfunctioning vending machine. Occasionally he managed to actually fix the problem.

"Soup guy," she smiled.

"Yeah, that's me. Regular soup-erman." He scratched his neck, nervous. Aw. He was nervous to talk to her.

"Well, you do an essential service 'round here. What would we have without our chicken noodle?"

"Less diarrhea, probably," he quipped, before realizing what he'd just said, eyes wide. "Smeg- I didn't mean to say that. I had better material before I walked up here, swear."

"Mhmm. You gonna ask me if I have a map, then? If it hurt when I fell from heaven?"

"Yeah, I like your outfit, but it'd look better on me floor." He snorted and offered his hand. "Dave Lister."

"Kristine Kochanski. But call me Kris. My friends do."

"D'you like pool, Kris?"

"Only if you like losing," she grinned.

The night was still early, and they more or less had the place to themselves. Quiet, beyond a few scattered conversations and the tinkling of an arcade game waiting patiently for its next victim. Dave's eyes were warm and dark, sparkling in the dim light, a cocky smile spreading across his face. Alright, he was gaining confidence. Kochanski might have been worried if she hadn't been hustling since year eleven.

"Care to gamble?"

"Yeah, sure." Lister lifted the little triangular rack, each ball in its right place. "I'm flat broke, so I'll have to owe you, but-"

"Wait, really? So how were you intending to pay for my drink? Or yours?"

"Well, you think the bartender'd let me pay him with me body?" He struck a goofy pose. Alright- Lister did have a nice body. Soft in all the right spots. Shame she'd have to take the bartender's sloppy seconds unless someone bailed him out.

"Tell you what. If you win, I'll pay your tab. If I win… you have to do whatever I say for five minutes."

"Guess I'd better order a few more, then. Take advantage. Ladies first?"

"Alright," Kochanski nodded, and with a satisfying crack the cue ball crashed smack through the middle of the triangle Lister'd set up. Good break. She'd already sunk the three ball, and two others were lined up beautifully next to the corner pockets.

"You're gonna ruin me, aren't you," Lister murmured.

A couple rounds later, a couple stolen glances at Lister's arse as he crawled halfway over the table for his "perfect shot," a couple terrible dirty jokes, and Kochanski had indeed come out ahead.

"Too bad," she said, slinging an arm around his waist. "I guess you're mine for the next five minutes."

"Only the next five?"

"Mm. Well, first off-" Kochanski dug around in her pants for the battered red leather wallet she'd kept since middle school, stuffing a wad of dollarpounds down the front pocket of Lister's horrible Hawaiian shirt. "I suppose I could pay our tab. It's the least I could do after thrashing you so horribly."

"I barely lost!" Lister complained, but the toothy grin hanging off his face didn't falter. "Besides, I was distracted-"

"No excuses! I was distracted too, and I managed just fine."

"You were?"

"I've only been ogling you all night. Couldn't keep my eyes off you to save my life," Kochanski laughed. That did it: stupid smirk gone, Lister's mouth hung halfway open, clearly flustered. "Alright, first command. Ready?"

"Nope," Lister said. "But go for it."

"Kiss me."

And he did. The crush of people around them, the chatter, the tinny music blaring through the speaker of the regulation jukebox, the clinking of glasses half-full and half-empty- all of that melted away. Lister's lips were a little chapped, but his mouth was warm and he seemed content to follow her lead. He was the perfect height for Kochanski to wrap her arms around his neck, feel his heart beating fast against her skin. 

She wondered if he knew she was just as nervous as he was. This felt like the beginning to something special- this felt fun, easy, perfect- and the thought of it ending a few hours from now felt absolutely heartbreaking.

"Wow," Lister puffed after they separated.

Kochanski traced a finger down his cheek, delighting in just how little it took to make him breathless.

"This place got crowded fast," she sighed, trying to maintain her façade. Stay cool. Seem witty. "How would you feel about coming back to mine? Or- I guess that'd be a waste of my four minutes, walking all the way there."

"Hey, tell you what," Lister said. "You can have all the time you want if you show me how you made that last shot."

"You sure you can handle a whole lecture on trigonometry?"

"I can handle anything you want me to," he shot back.

"Hah. We'll see," Kochanski chuckled, and she grabbed his sweaty hand in hers. 

This was definitely something special. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, maybe the adrenaline of kissing a bloke she barely knew, maybe the relief of a bright spot in the monotony of space- but whatever it was, this was something she didn't want to let go of anytime soon.

And to his credit, Lister held on for dear life as she pulled him out the door.

Chapter Two: I Think I Could Love Her

"I can't believe out of all the people in all the universes, I'm going to die with you." Kochanski would have torn her hair out, but leaving a pretty corpse was probably the last scrap of dignity she had to hold onto.

Deb smegging Lister. She'd fallen through time and space and ended up stranded with Deb- which, as it turned out, wasn't short for Deborah at all, but Debauchery. Seriously! Whose idea had that been? It was like the polar opposite of those old Puritan names; fitting, Deb would've made a perfect witch. Though, Kochanski supposed, they probably burned warlocks in this universe.

But anyway, none of it mattered anymore: not finding her way home, not finding her way off Starbug to some non-existent greener pasture, and certainly not the well-seasoned grudge brewing between them.

"C'mon, you worry too much. Sure, we're stuck drifting through space in this tiny, cold escape pod, and our only hope of being rescued is Arlene and the kids and Dog and Kryten findin' us-" Deb stopped herself. "Okay, yeah, I get why you're mad."

"The only reason I'm not strangling you right now is because I'm on the fence about if it's even worth the wasted effort," Kochanski huffed, and then, guiltily, "and maybe because I don't want us to end things on a sour note."

"How's about a sweet note, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well- I know I've been a bit awful to you-"

"You ate the last of my lipstick."

"That wasn't on purpose- I was drunk! I thought it would taste good!" Deb shifted in her seat. "And it did, by the way."

"Wow, Deb, that makes me feel so much better."

"No, c'mon. Let me make it up to you. Really, I'm sorry. I can be such a smeghead." She reached forward, and Kochanski didn't pull away as she threaded their fingers together. "Look, it's cold out there, and dark, and scary, and you of all people deserve to die someplace warm, alright?"

"Comforting thought."

"I dunno. It's all I ever wanted, myself."

"Fiji. Right." Kochanski sighed, scooting closer. They were sat on opposite sides of the cramped little pod, knees touching, bathed in the hot, harsh light of a nearby star. Deb had spent the first twenty minutes having a miniature panic attack, but by now she'd managed to pull herself together somewhat. 

Her hands still trembled slightly, so Kochanski gave them a tight squeeze. They were softer than she'd expected. There were calluses from playing guitar, and from riding that damned bike, sure, a few scrapes and scars, but Deb's long, lovely fingers fit perfectly between hers.

"Let me be your Fiji for a little bit," Deb said softly. "Y'know, like… maybe I'm not your Lister, but I don't mind if you just want to pretend for a while. Just to… to not die alone, right?"

"And I'll be your Kochanski?"

"Nah. You're twice as beautiful as my Kochanski. He could never pull off that jumpsuit."

"Stupid." How Deb could manage to pull a laugh out of her even now, she had no clue.

Exhausted, tired of being terrified, Kochanski decided to kill off the last of her common sense, leaning forward to bury her face in Deb's shoulder. She smelled like cigarettes, burnt hair, pine-scented air freshener- probably what she used instead of doing her laundry- and masala chai. But… well, if Kochanski really stretched her imagination, maybe she could smell the ocean in Deb's sweat. Maybe that artificial pine could be the smell of palm trees. Fiji. Lost dreams.

"Wanna do something stupid?" Deb murmured.

"I am."

"I mean, stupider. Since we're practically dead and all anyways."

"I'm not going to have sex with you just because we're lost in space, Deb," Kochanski sighed.

"Hang on! That wasn't what I was about to ask," she huffed. "I mean, unless…"

"No."

"What I was going to ask was- well- it's me last cigarette. Thought I'd offer you half." She produced it from her inner jacket pocket, a crumpled, pathetic little thing.

"That's going to cost us precious oxygen, you know," Kochanski grumbled, but she took it, hands shaking, and let Deb flick open the lighter.

"Hey, look at you. I knew you were corruptible, deep down."

"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me." Kochanski balanced the cigarette between two fingers, exhaling and pushing the filter end between Deb's lips.

This wasn't the worst way to go. Well- they'd start asphyxiating in a few hours, and she might change her mind about things then, but at the very least she wasn't alone. At least, out of all the people in all the universes, Deb was sort of… alright. Or, she was kind, sometimes, gentle, thoughtful enough to want to take care of Kochanski even in the face of total annihilation.

Maybe, if they survived this-

No. Definitely not, Kochanski thought, frowning as she burrowed deeper into Deb's jacket. No way she could fall in love with someone like Deb Lister. Not in three million years.

Unfortunately for her, she would in fact live to find out.

Chapter Three: I Wanna Do Everything

It wasn't fair.

Nothing in life was, as evidenced by the fact that they were here, a bloated metal pimple staining what could otherwise be a perfectly serene field of stars, and she was the last human left besides Dave.

Dave.

God, Dave.

He'd been doing absolutely horrible things to her lately, without even really trying. What's the point of taking a shower when you're a hologram? But he would walk into the kitchen in his fluffy blue bathrobe, dripping wet, like it was completely normal. It had to be on purpose. He had to know he was torturing her, didn't he? But in the interest of not being a complete shrew, she'd kept her mouth shut.

Then she'd started dreaming about it. Her and Lister, kissing, touching, laughing, in impossible bedrooms, in moonlit Mars lagoons, in the long elevator trips she used to take to work. Even her subconscious was conspiring against her, and all because Lister was allergic to pants.

"You can't treat this like a bachelor pad," she finally complained. "I mean, yeah, there's nobody left to gripe about it but me, but it doesn't mean I like seeing you run around naked."

"Alright, alright. I'll get Holly to pixelate me bits, and then it won't matter what I wear, eh?"

"No- keep the robe on, or I swear I will swap you out with Second Technician Rimmer again."

"Look, if it's really makin' you uncomfortable, I'll quit it, but I just don't see what the big deal is. I mean- I'm fully covered, right?"

Sure. Most of the time. But then he'd move the wrong way or bend down to do something, and Kochanski had to deal with the ache that accompanied catching a glimpse of his bare thighs or round arse, or find herself mesmerized by the way a simulated droplet of water slid down his chest, disappeared beneath the loose collar of the robe. Like now, for example.

It was too much.

"Let's just make a compromise. You can walk around in pajamas all you like, and I promise I won't bother you, alright?"

"Alright," Dave nodded, and with a snap of his finger, he was clad in a pair of ratty long johns that were somehow so, so, so much worse. Nothing left to the imagination. She could almost feel the thin fabric under her fingertips- if he were corporeal she'd rip it apart in an instant.

"Nevermind," Kochanski groaned, her head thumping against the table. "I give up. Pixelate your bits."

"Knew it," Lister laughed. "You've been thirsting after me, haven't you? What happened to 'not if you were the last man on Earth?'"

"I'm allowed to change my mind. Besides, you… you've gotten better lately. At listening. Being an actual friend to me, instead of getting mad when I'm not that perfect person you built up in your head."

"I've been trying." Lister took a seat next to her, drawing his lips thin. "Turns out, dying makes you put things into perspective a bit, yeah? I mean, I wasn't exactly cut out to be a philososophist or anything, but… I think maybe having to let go of all the physical stuff makes me appreciate the simple things a hell of a lot more than I used to. Like friendship. Just… cherishing each moment we have, right?"

"That's pretty thoughtful," Kochanski nodded. "But full disclosure- if you weren't dead right now, I'd already have you pinned to this table."

"Yeah, to smeg with philosophy," Lister said, tugging at the collar of his long johns. "Least now I can get out of these in about an eighth of a second."

"No," Kochanski smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Do it the old-fashioned way. As slow as you can. No pixelation necessary."

"Yes, ma'am," Lister grinned, eagerly unfastening the top button.

Chapter Four: What A Beautiful Feeling

Grueling work, keeping them all alive.

Starbug's engine had been stalling out again, and as the only person aboard with basic literacy who wasn't wasting it reading laundry tags, Kochanski had taken it upon herself to crack open a motor control textbook and try to fix the issue.

It wasn't too difficult to identify the problem- a part in the gigantic alternator had worn down. The difficult part was finding the tools and materials to fix the damned thing. Apparently, scrapping derelict ships meant searching for curry spice, flashy-looking textiles, and lemon-scented disinfectant, and not essential things like oil, coolant, spare parts, or welding equipment. 

Still, she was doing her best. At least the thing still ran- barely- and life support was still online when it didn't.

"Kris," came Dave's uncertain voice from behind her, and Kochanski quickly switched off the soldering iron. She lifted her makeshift face shield, wiping away the sweat. At least Lister had clapped a hand over his eyes in some attempt at keeping his vision intact. Kochanski had given him a lecture and a half the last time he'd walked in on her tinkering.

"What's wrong?"

"Well…" The hand came down, revealing an apologetic expression. "I sort of need you to come check on something over in the midsection."

"Really? Again? How many times is the Cat going to try mating with that chair?"

"Until he gets it pregnant."

She glared at him.

"His words, not mine!"

"Fine, I'll come fix the smegging chair again. Give me a second."

Normally, Dave walked through the hall with his head hung low in situations like these, but today he seemed almost happy about the prospect of cleaning up after the Cat's liaison. It sparked a bit of annoyance, actually. If it was so trivial, if he was so chipper about it, why didn't he try to fix the damn thing? Work, work, work, and all she ever had to show for it was-

Oh.

All the furniture in the room that wasn't bolted down had been shoved off to the side, and a few blankets were draped over the table to form a lopsided tent. A couple silver crinkly sleeping bags lined the floor, and Lister had hooked a spare monitor up to a precarious chain of extension cords to get it inside.

And impossibly, even though they'd run out weeks ago, there was a little bowl of cottage cheese, with a heaping of beautiful yellow pineapple chunks dripping over the top.

"What is this?" she gasped. "It's not my birthday- is it?" No way to tell, really- it all sort of blended together after a while.

"No, no. I just- well- you need a break. You've been workin' down there for thirty-two hours straight, and that can't be good for you, can it."

"I've what?"

"So," Lister said, gently guiding her towards the tent, "let's watch a movie, yeah? How to Steal a Million? It's a classic."

"I guess I could rest for an hour or so," Kochanski reluctantly nodded. "I might have better luck making that part with fresh eyes."

It was perfect.

Lister closed the blankets as soon as they were properly settled, and then it was like they weren't even on Starbug anymore. Just the comforting buzz of the screen, in between bites of creamy, sweet, tangy cheese curds, both of them lying on their stomachs like children at a sleepover.

"Thanks," Kochanski murmured, leaning her head against Dave's shoulder. "I really needed this."

"Of course. I have to look out for you, y'know? You're my best friend."

"Don't say that! I think Kryten might actually murder me."

"Ah, c'mon. There's enough of me to go 'round, the both of you can learn to share."

A stomp disrupted their little cocoon.

"And what am I, bud? Chopped tuna?"

"Cat-" Lister poked his head out of the tent.

"Forget it. I came here to visit my girl, and I got her. I'm leavin'." A sound like a chair being scraped against the floor. Yep.

"Well, he'll get over it," Dave assured her, but Kochanski was stifling a yawn. The oversaturated twentieth-century colors were starting to bleed together on the screen, hazy and dreamlike.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "It's not the movie- I just think I might be tired."

"Yeah? You've only been awake for a day and a half. Here- finish the last bite of that, and I'll put the dish away and leave you to it."

"Actually… I'm full," Kochanski lied, handing him the bowl. One last piece of pineapple.

Lister hesitated.

"Really?"

"Really."

He smiled, wide, his eyes bright, and scooped the last spoonful into his mouth.

It was the tastiest bite she'd never eaten.