#and then ofc his collar is like his pendant

[animamii]

Lost | Eren Yeager

Based off of Lost by Frank Ocean aka my fave song

Plug!Eren au (maybe more like druglord!Eren??)

warnings; smut ofc. Drugs ofc. Pet names. The word 'daddy' in a sexual connotation.

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... Triple weight couldn't weigh the love I've got for the girl....

He just looked at her in awe, proud of his girl as she sat the kilo on the triple beam, adjusting the counterweights to receive the precise measurements. It wasn't long ago that she was a novice in the trade. Just weighing out measly dime bags printed with spades or dollar signs. In all honesty he couldn't believe he had her out here so eager to help him flip his brick. Maybe it was the way he would spoil her after every pound they sold. The trips to the Maldives and shopping sprees at the Chanel store. The Louboutin heels and Cuban chains and diamond necklaces with his initial on the pendant. Definitely from the way he would fuck her roughly on top of a bed full of money, a la Wolf of Wallstreet.

"You got it all nice and measured out?" Eren finally speaks, walking up to you. It takes you out of your concentration, your eyes on the tiny numbers on the beams of the scale. You look up at him, eyes now full of hearts. Ohhh how good he looked in that Versace silk button up. The way the collar drooped, showing just the right amount of chest.

"Uh huh. The perfect kilo. Not a gram more, not a gram less," you smile at the porcelain-colored mountain, honestly proud of yourself. It had taken you a while to get to this level of precision.

Eren puts a hand under your chin, "That's my good girl." His fingers caress the underside of your jawline. You give him a dimply smile in return, beaming from the praise. The intoxicating weight of his approval was almost heavier than the kilo in front of you. Eren’s gaze burns into you, his green eyes tracing the shape of your plump lips and then shifting downward to the work you’d just completed.

With a glint in his eye, he tilts your chin up just a little more, the pad of his thumb brushing slowly over your bottom lip. "Look at you, all grown up," he murmurs, his voice low and honey-thick, that rough edge of pride lacing every word. You held your breath, pulse quickening under his touch. “Think you can handle the next batch on your own?” he teases, fingers drifting to your cheek, then back to the hard line of your jaw. “Or will you still need me to keep an eye on you?”

You swallowed, hardly managing to hold back a mischievous grin. “Maybe I’d like it better with you here,” you reply, running your hand slowly down the smooth fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his chest through the silk. He just looked too yummy to keep your hands to yourself. Eren’s lips quirked at your touch, his hand settling on the small of your back as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin.

“You know I’ll always be here to make sure my girl gets it just right,” he hums, his voice sending a thrill down your spine as he presses his mouth softly against your neck, tasting the heat of your skin. The air between you was thick, charged, the slightest pressure away from setting things ablaze.

As his fingers trace down your back, your mind hazily drifts to what this life had turned you into—a girl who could measure out yayo with the same precision Eren used when he unraveled you, his skillful hands claiming you with a possessiveness only his world could breed. A world that made him greedy and a little bit selfish. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, a mischievous smirk on his face as he sizes you up. There was an intensity there, a look that spoke volumes—a dangerous combination of trust, desire, and something else that was just… Eren. It made your knees weak.

“Why don’t you wrap it up for me, then?” he asks, nodding toward the carefully measured pile of powder on the scale pan. “Let’s see if you’ve mastered that part too.”

You took a steadying breath, giving him a smirk of your own. He liked to test you, liked to push you to see how far you could go in his world—and you loved every second of it. The thrill, the risk, and knowing you had Eren’s undivided attention was addictive. Carefully, you start the process of wrapping the package, feeling the weight of his gaze follow your every move. Taking a card, some random fake ID, you start to sift the snow into the cocaine mold, already having prepped it by placing the cellophane wrap inside.

Once all 2.2 pounds are inside the metal casing, you use the press, placing both hands on top to make sure it's packed in tight. Eren can't help but salivate at the way your tits press together in the process, almost popping out of that flimsy tank top. As delicate as you possibly can, you lift the edges of the cellophane out of the press, placing the newly formed rectangle on the table gingerly.

With a tender touch you wrap the excess cellophane around the shape before sealing it off with tan packing tape. Once you know it's nice and sealed up you grab thicker kitchen wrap, encasing the now sturdy block in multiple layers of the plastic vinyl.

Finally finished, you hold up the neatly wrapped brick, meeting his gaze with a look of confidence. “Perfect, just like you wanted.”

He took the package from your hands, inspecting it with a slow, approving nod. "Not bad," he says, though his eyes held a sparkle that told you he was more than satisfied. "I taught you well, baby."

Without warning, he leans in and snakes an arm behind your lower back. Pulling you close, pressing you against the edge of the grand table. The kilo is softly tossed to the side, now being forgotten in lieu of Eren's choice of drug, his baby girl. His lips capture yours, hard and hungry, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all day. The taste of him was intoxicating—sharp and sweet, like the Russian Cream Backwood he had smoked earlier. The excess nicotine in his mouth now numbing your lips. Your breaths became heavy and full of him; a mix of cologne and smoke, of the kind of danger and excitement that no amount of money could buy.

Your fingers found their way into his hair as he kissed you deeper, his rough hands roaming over your body like he couldn’t get enough. The heat of his touch made you feel lightheaded, your mind hazy and focused solely on him. Although your mind was always focused on him ever since he had entered your life.

"You’ve earned a little reward," he mumbles against your lips, one hand slipping down to your thigh, sliding slowly, deliberately up your skirt. The coldness of his gold Palma chain bracelet sending shivers through your body. In contrast his breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel his grin as he left a trail of sloppy, lust filled kisses down your neck. "What do you say?"

Your heart raced, and you didn’t need to answer—he already knew. You were his, completely and utterly, caught in his web of desire, danger, and dark thrills that always kept you coming back for more. Simply put you were definitely addicted to Eren Yeager.

Eren’s fingers trace up your thigh, slow and teasing, pushing the hem of your skirt higher as he presses you harder against the edge of the table. You could feel your pulse racing under his touch, his lips trailing along your exposed collarbone with a heated urgency that made you melt. Every nerve in your body was alive, aware of every brush of his skin against yours, every inhale and exhale of his breath as he claimed you.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice low, almost reverent. Thumb skimming the inside of your thigh, making your breath hitch. “You’ve come so far, my pretty girl. From dime bags to kilos, and now…” He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “Now, you’re exactly where you belong.”

Eren's words sends shocks through you, a sense of pride mixed with something deeper, something raw. There was a part of you that had always wanted this—wanted to feel useful in his world, trusted and treasured by him in a way that no one else could understand. With Eren, you weren’t just someone to spoil or protect anymore. You were his partner, his equal, his mutual addiction.

Lust drunk, he lifts you onto the table, hands firm on your waist as he positions you exactly how he wants, his hungry gaze never leaving yours. Eren doesn’t say anything as he spreads your legs, fingers tracing over the soft lacy fabric between them, making you tingle. Looking down at you, cheekbones and jawline sharp, he puts you in a fawn-like state. You hold his gaze, heart thumping as he leans in, his mouth hot against yours.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, his voice sweet and heavy like molasses. Rough fingers slip beneath your now dampened panties, finding you warm and wanting, and you can no longer hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips. Slowly he starts to rub your pearl, causing more heat to pool to your sensitive area.

“I want this,” you manage to say between moans, your words melting into a whimper as his fingers move against you, slow and skilled. “I want you, Eren.” Your eyes are glossed over with desire, bottom lip pouting as your body begs for more.

He gave a low, satisfied chuckle, eyes darkening as he watches your reactions, drinking in every tremor, every shaky sigh. “Good,” he says, his voice carnal. “Because I want all of you, every last piece.” With that he presses closer, his touch growing bolder, his kisses deeper and more demanding. A slender finger now makes its way into you, pressing into your spongy walls, collecting all the slickness that was dripping from your entrance. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, losing yourself in the feeling of his body against yours.

As Eren adds another finger you start to unbutton his silk shirt. Fervent yet careful as to not pop one off. You would be in for it if you were to ruin his brand new fifteen-hundred-dollar shirt. Eyelids heavy with longing, you look up at him through your thick lashes. Eren is a sight to behold, bottom lip tucked tightly in between his pearly white teeth, brows etched together in prurience. He looks absolutely gorgeous, body defined and toned, muscles flexing with every movement he makes. Eren's fingers move at a moderate pace with stern pressure. Just enough to get your juices flowing, but not enough to make you any closer to cumming.

"Faster baby," you whine out as your hips grind against his digits. Eren smirks, looking down at you as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers. Listening to your pleas, he picks up the pace. You hum out as he does so, muttering out a quick 'thank you' under your breath. Looking down at the lewd sight, you notice he was only going one knuckle deep, was he really holding out on you? So much for a reward. "Deeper, Ren." Another whine leaves your throat.

"You're such a needy princess, aren't you?" Eren does as you wish, pushing his fingers in as deep as he can. Adding his thumb to your clit makes your eyes flutter, a wave of stimulus making your legs twitch. Loving the reaction your body gives him, he decides to add a third finger, all three digits now swirling from the bottom of your chasm to curl up into the top of your mound. It sounds nasty, the squelches coming from your cunt as he toys with it.

"You made me like this," you manage to say, your lips staying parted as you watch him add that third finger. The way it starts to spread you, stretch you out with that soft sting. The way those three fingers glisten with your slickness as he pumps them in and out of you. Eren thinks your pink lips look so pretty parted like that, they'd probably look better if they were put to work. Taking advantage of your attention being elsewhere, he takes his other hand, placing it under your chin as his thumb slips between your plump lips with ease. Your big doe eyes look up at him and he gets even harder as you look at him with that needy, (not so) innocent looking face. You moan around his thumb, almost wanting to bite it if you weren't lulling in and out of a pleasure induced daze.

"I did huh, made you so needy and spoiled," he grunts, adding force to his fingering to emphasize his words. Each forceful pump making you mewl, back arching. Eren loves watching you come undone beneath him, your legs jerking just from his fingers. The way your brows knit in pleasure, eyes rolling back as your breaths are light and quick. It's a beautiful sight, one that he never gets tired of. "Anything else my needy girl needs? Hm?" He asks as he takes his thumb out of your mouth, the cute little 'pop' it makes causing him to smile.

You nod fervently, "Need your dick inside me." You yank him by his Medusa belt buckle, pulling him closer as you try to undo it. Maybe it was the way you were trying with such rushed neediness, but it seemed impossible, with you cursing at the overcomplicated belt. Eren lets out a low chuckle as he pulls his fingers out of you, causing you to snap out of your thirsty tunnel vision. Fuck, you looked so cute looking up at him with that confused look on your face.

"Impatient, are we princess?" Shaking his head, he leans down and places a kiss to your temple. Instead of watching you fumble with his belt, he starts to do it himself, still chuckling at how insistent you were in your failed attempts.

"Jus' need you so bad," you respond, watching him undo the belt with ease. He tugs it out of his belt loops, half thinking about using it to restrain you or whoop you, but he remembers how good of a girl you have been, how he needs to reward you. His jeans drop to the floor with his boxers following suit. Your eyes don't leave the delicious sight of his V-line and happy trail as you hurriedly yank your panties off and toss them to the side.

"You're such a needy little thing, princess. You want my cock that badly, huh?" Eren playfully tilts his head as he gathers the precum leaking out of his tip, starting to pump himself as he watches you spread your legs instinctively. All you could do is give him a whiny 'uh huh' as you tug at his unbuttoned shirt, lust making your brain foggy. He laughs inwardly at your response, enjoying how easily you turn ditzy when you were sex hungry.

"Look at you, baby. So desperate for me. You're gonna look so pretty when I split you open right now," Dropping his shirt off his shoulders, Eren's hands move to your thighs, gripping them as he forces your legs open even more. He does a little double tap with the head of his dick, the heavy pats on your clit making you whine even more. He just had to tease you huh? Before you could say anything bratty, he pushes himself inside, a quick little push that forces a squeak of a moan out of you.

Eren pauses for just a moment, reveling in the way you felt around him, and you watched the flash of satisfaction in his eyes as he sank deeper, inch by agonizing inch. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in, and his grip on your thighs tightened, nails grazing your skin. He loved seeing you like this—overwhelmed, consumed, all because of him.

“You feel that baby?” his voice is horse, dripping with satisfaction as he thrust into you slowly, relishing each whimper that leaves your lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” One of his hands cradles the back of your head, holding you up as you give into the pleasure. All you could manage was a nod, biting down on your lip as his rhythm began to build. The table beneath you creaked as he rocked you against it, each push and pull stoking the fire between you, making you shiver with every heartbeat.

“Tell me, princess,” he whispers into your ear, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your insides flutter. “Tell me who you belong to.” His thrusts grew deeper, each one filling you completely, fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

“You, Ren,” you moan out, head tilting back as he sensually rams inside of you. “I belong to you.” Your brain is reciting romantic sonnets, love letters to the man that simply translate into airy moans. But hey, they would both be music to his ears.

The possessive gleam in his eyes only grows, and he holds you tighter, moving faster now, every motion a reminder of the hold he has over you, of the way he had shaped you into the woman you were now. And with every thrust, every whispered word, you found yourself surrendering even more, letting yourself fall further into the passion and darkness that only Eren could bring out in you.

Rough hands meet your chest, palming you through your thin tank top and bra. "Y'know, your tits looked fuckin' amazing as you were pressing that brick. All squeezed together and shit." Pulling the stretchy material of the tank top down, Eren removes your bra straps from your shoulders, letting the bra fall and rest around your waist as he grabs handfuls of your tits. Thumbs prod at your nipples, flicking at them like little joysticks as he jiggles the flesh and toys with them. He pushes them together, imitating how they looked when they were clamped between your arms.

"Yeah? it looked good daddy?" You purr under a lustfully lidded gaze, your soft hands making their way on top of his as he fondled your boobs. He groans, feeling your body arch up to meet him, and a wicked grin spreads across his face as he dips down, claiming your lips in a kiss that stole every last bit of breath you had left. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the heat of his body against yours, the intoxicating rush of his touch, and the knowledge that you were exactly where you belonged.

Eren can't help but be proud of how much you grew. Of who you grew into. When he first met you, you were just a sweet college girl trying to make ends meet by being a bottle girl. A little too naive and trusting, but he loved that about you. He still does. Now you were more mature, much wiser. Having learned so much from him, which made you forever grateful and dedicated to him. If he wasn't balls deep inside of you, he would shed some tears.

"I fucking love you baby," guttural grunts leave his throat as he pulls you flush against his sweaty chest, hands tangled in your hair as he planted breathy kisses to the top of your head. Your arms wrap around him, palms flat against his shoulder blades.

"I love you too, daddy. More than you know," your voice was soft, trying to keep from screaming in this almost love making moment. His length was getting to you, starting to see stars as he hit deep up inside you, tip touching your cervix. "I'm close, Ren." In that moment, nothing else mattered—the stacks of cash, the drugs and contraband, the danger that came with his world. All that existed was Eren, his touch, his voice, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. Your face is buried in his chest, leaving open kisses as 'thank you's' for fucking you so good. Your nails leave light scratches on his back, slightly stinging him but Eren loved the pain.

Eren’s hold on you tightens, his pace unrelenting as he buries himself deeper, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Hearing you say those words, feeling your body responding to his with such devotion, drove him wild. His hands start to roam your back, his fingers pressing into your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you, and he couldn’t help but lean down, whispering against your ear with a husky breath, “Then let go for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

His movements grew more intense, the friction almost unbearable as he watched you unravel beneath him, every inch of you trembling in his arms. Eren leans back just enough to capture your gaze, his eyes locked on yours, full of passion and pure love. “Come on, beautiful,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, the warmth of his breath brushing over your skin. “I want to feel every bit of it.”

Your body finally surrenders, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cling to him, crying out his name. Eren watches with satisfaction, feeling your walls tighten and pulse around him, pulling him even deeper. Upon thrusting out, he sees your cream painted on his shaft, more of your slickness dripping and puddling on the table. Cracked moans escape your glossy lips, strands of hair covering your face. In this moment—and every moment really—you were his muse. All Eren can do is look at you in awe, how perfect you looked all fucked out. Makes him want to fuck you even harder. Which he does, grip on you tight as he forcefully slams into your cunt. You can't help but scream at the overstimulation, the way he starts to pound into your cervix. Acrylic nails scrape his biceps, your legs are shaking as they wrap around him. The intensity of it all took his breath away, and with a final thrust, he loses himself in you, his body giving in as he harshly whispers your name like a prayer. The room goes still, your hearts pounding in sync, and as he held you close, Eren felt a deep, raw connection with you—a feeling he knew he’d never have with anyone else.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing heavy, he looks at you with a smile, thumb tracing over your flushed cheek. “My girl,” he whispers, words filled with a possessive pride that makes your heart race. “You did so well. You always do so good for me, baby.” A kiss is placed atop your head as he brushes his fingers through your sex tangled hair.

You're leaning on his chest still, catching your breath, still wrapped in the lingering warmth of his touch. Eren’s fingers trace lazy circles over your skin, his demeanor softening in a way he rarely showed to anyone but you. There was a comfort here, in this silence between the two of you, something almost domestic in the way he held you, thumb brushing tenderly over your arm as he hums a familiar tune you can't quite put your finger on at the moment, brain still fuzzy.

But the moment was fleeting. You knew that with Eren, there was always something else lurking beneath the surface, a restlessness that could never quite be satisfied, a thrill he always chased. And now, the look in his eyes shifted, a spark flickering as he reached for the package you'd so carefully prepared.

“You know,” he began, holding up the kilo, “it’s my last drop of the night.” His lips curled into that mischievous smirk you knew too well. “Want to come with me?”

You perk up, "Really? You actually want me to go with you to drop off?" Eren had never asked you to accompany him when delivering product. Always kept you behind the scenes. Always wanted to keep you safe. The thought of it sent a shiver of excitement through you—a chance to step fully into his world, side-by-side, as more than just his girl waiting for him at home.

"Uh huh, so you coming, or what?" He starts to get dressed, grabbing his boxers and jeans that are pooled on the floor and lifting them up. Body still sweaty and now coated in sex fluids, he feels a little less than clean. But business has to be handled before he can finally relax, right? Once he gets back home, he plans to take a long, drawn-out bubble bath with you nested between his legs anyway.

"Course I'll go," hopping off the table, you place your panties back on, core still soaked with both yours and Eren's arousal. Shaky fingers lift your bra straps back in place along with your tank top.

"Good." Eren's already dressed, your oversized fur coat in his hands, ready to place it on you. Giving him a cute little curtsy, you oblige and turn around, slipping your arms into the weighted sleeves. He grabs his jacket from the back of a chair and tosses it over his shoulder, slinging an arm around your waist as you followed him out of the stash house, heels clicking softly against the concrete. Eren’s car was parked just outside, sleek and dark, a perfect reflection of him. Of course he opens the car door for you, the gentleman he very much is, his hand out for balance even though you really didn't need it.

Eren slides into the driver’s seat beside you, his hand immediately finding yours after he starts the engine, casting you a playful smirk while reversing out of the driveway. “It’s about time you saw what your man’s really up to,” he teases, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring, placing a kiss on your knuckles. The notion has you melting, biting your lip as you looked at Eren with such puppy love. Of course he notices your enamored expression, making him smug, giving you a wink before his gaze returns to the road, his jaw clenched with that familiar intensity you’d come to love, the kind that made him magnetic, impossible to resist. It took everything in you not to lean over that center console, shower him and kisses and maybe even suck him off. But that could all wait until after the black duffle bag full of cocaine bricks was out of the backseat.

As he drove, you felt the thrill of the unknown rising in your chest, a mix of anticipation and excitement settling in your stomach. The city lights stream by, casting flashes of color across Eren’s face, highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones, the glint of determination in his eyes. With him, everything felt like an adventure. It was his world, and tonight, he was letting you in.

Eren kept his hand on yours, fingers intertwined, thumb brushing softly over your knuckles in contrast to the hard edge of his persona behind the wheel. The gesture made you feel secure, as if he were grounding you, silently reassuring you that no matter what, he’d protect you.

It wasn’t long before he pulled into a secluded spot by the docks, where the only sounds were the distant crashing of waves and the occasional creak of metal. The car pulls behind a nondescript building by the water, lights dimmed, giving off an eerie feeling. Cutting the engine, Eren turns to you, “Stay close to me, alright?” His voice is serious now, the usual playfulness fading as he shifted into the role he wore so well—the Eren that commanded a room with just a look, the one people feared and respected in equal measure. But he softens slightly as his eyes meet yours. “Trust me?”

You smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Always.” Eren’s smile grew, a glint of pride in his eyes, as if he knew you were ready for this, that you could handle it. And in that moment, you knew, too. Stepping out of the car, he opens the back door to grab that packed black duffle bag that was going to turn into an enormous amount of cash. Hoisting it over his shoulder, Eren then goes around the car and opens your door as he always does, holding out a hand for you to step out. As you finally step out Eren can't help but cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs skimming over your cheeks as he looks at you with a look you couldn't even describe. A bit of pride, a bit of nervousness, all love.

Leading you to the back of the building, right near the edge of the black looking water of the docks, you could hear the faint hum of the city in the distance, but here, it was quiet, almost unnaturally so. The night air was sharp and cold against your skin, and Eren’s hand in yours felt grounding, warm, steady.

He glances at you, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he led you to a side door, knocking three times in a rhythmic pattern. You’d heard Eren talk about his drops before, knew there was always an order to it—a certain number of knocks, a password, a specific point of contact. But you’d never seen it up close. Now, as you watched him in his element, the man you loved was almost unrecognizable. Gone was the softness he showed you, replaced by a cold confidence, a sense of purpose that made him seem larger than life.

The door creaks open, and a man with a buzzed head and tattoos creeping up his neck appears in the doorway, giving Eren a respectful nod. “Yo, Yeager,” he greets him gruffly, eyes briefly flicking to you, curious but expressionless. Eren nods back, mumbling a brief 'w'sup' as he pulls you close, arm wrapping securely around your waist as he led you into the building.

The hallway was dim, narrow, with walls that looked like they hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades. The air smelled faintly of cigarettes and some type of cleaning chemicals, and you felt little butterflies in your stomach, the thrill of stepping into Eren’s world fully, of seeing firsthand what he did when he wasn’t with you. You walked in sync, your heels clicking softly against the worn linoleum floor as the man led you down the corridor and up a flight of stairs.

Once you reached the top, you enter a room that was just as worn and dull as the hallway below. A battered leather couch sat against one wall, facing a scratched coffee table cluttered with empty beer bottles, playing cards, and loose cash. On a makeshift setup sat a small tv, one of those small 2010's plasma tv's, some public access cable playing on it as no one watched. A few men were scattered around the room, some leaning against the walls playing dice, others sitting on the couch, each one looking up as you and Eren entered. Their gazes were appraising, curious. But there was a silent understanding between them and Eren—a respect that was unspoken but clear. Eren wasn’t just another face to these people. He was something more.

With a subtle nod, Eren acknowledged the room. Even in this rough environment, he commanded respect with a quiet authority, an edge to him that everyone just seemed to feel. They offered him gestures, some lifting chins in greeting, others murmuring a quick “What's good, Eren,” before returning to their game. But when their eyes landed on you, it was as though a wave of curiosity washed over the room. Eren kept you close, his hand firm on your waist, making it clear you weren’t just some girl he’d brought along. You were his, and in this world, that meant something.

“Yeager, man,” one of the men on the couch breaks the silent tension, his eyes flicking to you briefly, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t know you’d be bringing company.”

Eren didn’t bother to respond directly. Instead, just giving the man a nod, his hand still resting protectively on your waist. “Let’s just get down to business,” he said, voice calm but authoritative. He pulled you along with a confident ease, guiding you over to a workbench that definitely looks out of place. He lets go of you just long enough to set the duffle bag down as the men gather around the table, eyes fixed on the bundle. The man with the buzzed head, the one who’d opened the door, gestures for Eren to unzip it, and you watch as the two exchange a quick, wordless understanding. The bag comes open, exposing its contents—wrapped kilos of powder neatly lined up inside, stacked with almost clinical precision. There was a surreal quality to it, the weight of the moment settling as you saw firsthand the pieces of Eren’s world.

Another one of them—a wiry guy with boxcar scars and a slacked jaw—pulls out a small pocketknife and slices through the layers of plastic wrap, peeling back each layer to reveal the pristine white powder within. You watch, transfixed, as they inspect it, measuring it out with a scale, nodding in approval.

“Looks good. Quality work, as usual,” Buzzcut says, his gaze shifting to you with a curious glint. “Wasn't aware you had someone helping you out, Yeager.”

Eren’s hand wraps around your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he spoke, his tone low and assertive, carrying an edge. “She’s my girl. And she’s just as good as I am.”

The words made you stand a little taller, pride swelling in your chest as you felt the weight of his approval. It was a rare thing for Eren to show off any part of this life to others, especially when it came to you. To even let his two separate worlds collide. But here, he was doing exactly that—claiming you, letting the room know that you were someone they could trust. It was exhilarating, a glimpse into a side of him that was usually kept hidden.

The man with the scars gave you a nod, his smirk softening slightly as he purses his lips. “Well, if she’s good enough for you, Yeager, then she’s good enough for us.” Buzzcut gives an agreeing nod, before signaling to one of the others to count out stacks of cash. Eren accepts the money with practiced ease, slipping the large manila envelope into his jacket pocket before handing off the duffle. It was smooth, efficient, like a transaction he’d done countless times before, yet there was something different this time, a new layer as he glances at you and sees the awe in your eyes.

The deal wraps up quickly, Eren’s hand never leaving yours as he led you back out, giving brief nods to the men as they exchanged quick, quiet goodbyes. When you reach the hallway, he pauses, turning to look at you, his eyes softening as the door clicked shut behind you.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” he asked, his tone gentle, thumbs brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all. I actually…kind of liked it,” you admit, your voice low but sincere. “I liked seeing you like this. Seeing what you do.”

Eren’s lips curve into a slow, proud smile, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I wanted you to see it, to understand. You’re part of this now, too. Part of me.”

"I'm happy you trust me enough to let me even see this part of you," your manicured nails softly caressing his fingers as you look at him with gratitude.

"Course, princess. I trust you with my life. I love you," Eren wraps his arms around you, bringing you in his embrace. "Now let's go home and take a longggg bath. That room was hotboxed with cigarettes I feel like I reek." A smile forms on his lips, which rested on the top of your head. Eren turns you towards the dingy stairway, pressing one last kiss to the back of your head as he leads you out, his steps sure and calm, guiding you back down the dimly lit hallway.

As you walked back to the car, hand in hand, you realized something. Being with Eren wasn’t just about the thrill or the luxury or even the danger. It was about trust, a bond deeper than words, a connection that ran beneath everything else. And as you slipped into the car beside him, his fingers intertwining with yours, you knew you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

The car hums as Eren started it up, pulling back onto the road with that effortless ease he had, every move calculated, every glance a mixture of mischief and calm control. The night stretched out ahead of you, the neon glow of the city lights casting a warm hue over the two of you as you left the docks behind.

"How’d it feel?" he finally asks without nervousness, eyes flicking over to you with that lopsided smirk you adored. "Being in on the action for real?"

You took a deep breath, letting the excitement settle as you thought it over. "It felt... powerful," you divulge, squeezing his hand in return. "But honestly? I think I just liked being by your side."

Eren chuckles, his gaze softening in a way that made you feel like you were the only person who could break down his walls. “Good answer,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and brushing a gentle kiss over your knuckles. “Means you’ve got your priorities straight.”

You melt at his words, heart gushing and legs squeezing together. "Yeah, got my priorities straight?" Watching his face, the way he's so nonchalant and smug, all you can do is bite your lip. God, why does he always have to look so delicious?

"Mmhmm, my lil 03' Bonnie," he teases as he kisses your hand again, eyes not leaving the road. You were back downtown, close to the apartment. Cars and pedestrians littered the streets still despite the lateness of the night.

"Okay Jay Z," you giggle, head shoving into his arm that's rested on the center console. The adrenaline high that you had received from earlier had now died down, feeling that soft mellowness that was familial to one of an after sex high. Just simple pure bliss and the feeling of amor.

Eren pulls up to the front of the apartment building, too tired and too ready to get you in that bubble bath that he uses the valet, something he only occasionally did. Handing the keys to the valet, Eren opens the passenger door, extending a hand for you to grab. You balance yourself, feet tired from wearing those damn YSL Debbie platform pumps. Eren's hand immediately finding the small of your back as he leads you into the lobby, the late-night desk attendant looking up with a considerate nod.

As you step into the elevator, you both lean against each other, exhaustion finally settling in now that the thrill of the evening had faded. Eren was ready to go back to being domestic and loving, he wanted to put aside the drugs and dealing for the rest of the night.

Inside the quiet of the apartment, Eren wraps you in his arms from behind, his warmth against your back as he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Come on, let’s get that bath going,” he murmurs, his voice a low, affectionate rumble.

You nod, leaning into him, savoring the feel of his strong arms around you. Together, you make your way to the bathroom, and he gets the water running, adding bubbles and checking the temperature as you sit on the edge, watching him with a smile. There was a certain sweetness to the way he moved for you, the way he could switch so effortlessly from dope dealer to lover.

When the bath is ready, Eren helps you undress, taking his time as his hands brush over your skin, his eyes darkening with tenderness as he admires you. You step into the warm water together, and as he wraps his arms around you, drawing you close in the foamy, fragrant warmth, you know without a doubt that you were exactly where you were meant to be—by his side, no matter where that led.

As he leans down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and resting his head against yours, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. In all honesty you could fall asleep right then and there, with Eren massaging your black vanilla shampoo into your hair. With each gentle touch, you feel yourself melting into him, the steady beat of his heart against your back calming you in a way only he could.

Eren tilts his head, nuzzling into the curve of your neck before planting a tender kiss on your skin. “You know,” he murmurs, voice softened with affection, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this lucky.” His words are a low whisper, meant just for you, and they carry a rawness that leaves you breathless.

Turning in his arms to face him, you find his gaze already fixed on you, eyes full of that rare vulnerability he only shows you. You reach up, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly over his jawline as you smile. “I’m the lucky one, Eren. Just getting to be here, to be with you like this... I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

A smile tugs at his lips, that slight, crooked smile you adore, and he leans in, closing the distance between you in a slow, sweet kiss. It’s gentle, unhurried, as if he’s savoring every second, pouring all his unspoken feelings into it. His hand drifts up to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his touch both tender and possessive.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you feel his breath against your lips as he whispers, “I’ll keep you safe. No matter what.” His hand moves down to rest over your heart, feeling the steady beat beneath his palm as if grounding himself in the moment.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, pressing a kiss to his temple as he relaxes into your embrace. The water sloshes softly around you as you both sink deeper into the warmth, sharing this quiet, intimate moment, content to just be in each other’s presence. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, savoring the quiet joy of being together.

Eren pulls you even closer, his hand moving slowly up and down your back as he speaks in a soft, almost bashful tone. “I can’t believe you put up with all this,” he says, a hint of wonder in his voice. “My life... it’s messy, but somehow, you’re always here, right by my side.” He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he takes a deep breath, as if absorbing the comfort of having you close.

You tilt your head up, catching his gaze with a reassuring smile. “You’re worth it, Eren. Every bit of it. Besides,” you add with a playful grin, “I kind of like the thrill.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as if in disbelief, his eyes shining with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. “Then I guess we’re both crazy,” his words are light and airy as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The two of you sink back into the water, wrapped in each other’s warmth, and for a moment, there’s no need for words. Just the comfort of his arms, the rhythm of his breathing, and the knowledge that no matter what lay ahead, you’d face it together.

After the cute intimate moments of washing each other's bodies, sticking Eren's hair up in a shampooed mohawk, and a little under the bubble action, Eren finally grabs two heated towels to wrap you up. He takes the time to dry you off, starting with your painted toes, all the way up to your drenched locks.

"All dry," his smile is pure as he ruffles your damp hair. Walking around with just a towel hung around his waist, he goes into the bedroom to get you pajamas. Of course it's one of his old tee shirts, this one a My Chemical Romance one he had since high school. "Arms up," he says as he places the oversized shirt over your head.

The simple domesticity that he could also bring, the soft tone he uses with you, all the little things he does like washing your hair and picking out your pj's, makes you feel swollen with amorous emotions. How could this be the same man that was selling coke to everybody in the city?

"You look so perfect, my pretty baby," he hums softly as he places a kiss on your forehead. Eren can't help but be so in love with you when you looked like this. Fresh out of the bath, bare faced and looking so small in his oversized shirt that reminded him of life before he became so involved in the drug trade. "I have one more thing for you, c'mere."

Shooting him a puzzled look, you follow him into the living room of the apartment. The living room dimly glowed from the tungsten lights, the city glittering from the windows. Sitting down on the velvet couch you watched as Eren shuffles around to search for something.

"Close your eyes princess," his voice is bright with excitement as he holds something behind his back. You do as your told, holding your hands over your face. More shuffles can be heard as he steps closer to you. "Okay, you can open."

"Eren," you gasp as he holds open a small black box that carries a delicate silver ring set with a dark emerald—the same green as his eyes, a color that had always reminded you of him. He takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger with a kind of quiet reverence.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he says with a soft but steady voice. “Not yet, anyway.” He looks up, gaze meeting yours with a seriousness that makes your heart skip a beat. “But it’s a promise. A reminder that this is just the beginning for us. That I want it to be you by my side. Always.”

Your heart swells from his sentiments, and without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a kiss filled with everything you felt—love, gratitude, the excitement of a future with him. Eren holds you close, with his hand resting on the small of your back, reminding you that no matter what, you were safe here with him.

As you pull back, both of you a little breathless, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his eyes soft. “Ready for what’s next baby?”

With a smile, you nod, your fingers brushing over the ring, feeling its weight, its promise. “With you? Always.”

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦•

just a lilll rushed because omg I love this so muchhh. Idk I'm in love love loveee with everything about this.

[ayaaato]

Painted with sunsets

Summary. In which, Gojo Satoru sees death from up close yet again, but for all the wrong reasons this time around.

Word count. 1.6k

Genre(s). friends with benefits but Gojo fails to fathom the whole concept as whole, feelings and just 1.5k words wasted on a singular unholy makeout sesh, crack do not take it seriously

Warnings. MAKING OUT!! -15 DNI, suggestive content ofc, Gojo just wants to be gojover like a normal person but his thought process isn't even normal to begin with, thoughts about death and killing, Shoko would canonically kill him for such shenanigans, open ending ☹

GOJO SATORU HAD always imagined how he'd die.

Death was a luxury for him, having already died and coming back to life once already. But he liked to think of all things impossible, his death included as he was too sure he could respawn almost immediately like those mmorpg bosses from the games kids these days loved to play, and so, he still had carefully taken his time to picture rather ideal and possible deaths. A heart attack at the tender age of 59? Check. Owing to the to the shame Megumi would cause by asking his body count (which was, for a fact, zero) any day now (but such incident was also highly unlikely, according to Nanami, for the former had long forsaken all shame he had in himself) check. Crushed under the weight of all the hearts he'd broken, high blood sugar left unchecked? Of course! Heck, he had even considered being rat poisoned by a sickly 90 year old lady once, but that was a story for another day.

But what he hadn't actually taken into account at all, was being dispersed into dust by the humble doctor of the Tokyo Jujutsu High, one of his most formidable friends- of all people. 

Maybe he should have, considering the fact that it would be inevitable after whatever the fuck was going on inside her treasured infirmary right now. 

A small gasp escapes the sorcerer's lips as his back hits one of the metal closets with a small thud, chest against yours. You, unaware of the fate that might await him if Shoko caught the smallest whiff of this rather unholy deed, pressed closer in haste. And something in the back of Gojo satoru's consciousness dissipates. The curtain you hastily closed cloaks your existence as well his rationality, but he pays no heed.

"Well, aren't we a little too eager today?" He hums (he honestly didn't know where he suddenly got all this confidence from, but oh well). 

Fuck Shoko, Gojo Satoru thinks the very next moment. If this is going to be the last day of his life, he'd rather spend it frenching his favourite officer.

He stares back down at you, your eyes travelling around the space; probably too embarrassed to meet his. And he notices a few things. Just a few unnecessary things; like how you smell like vanilla and bergamot mixed with sweat, how the silver pendant around your neck was worn a little higher today and just how pleasant the rustling of your chiffon shirt sounded against his own. 

His eyes had found residence on your breathtaking features again.

And oh shit. He'd also have to remind you to button up the few upper slots that came undone while trying to corner the strongest sorcerer (although he had a tendency to become a little weak at the sight of you) to a safer spot, somewhere the authorities and the above all, his students wouldn't imagine to find the two of you.

"Shut up, Gojo," you scoff, hands fisting the collars of his uniform- smirking. Gojo satoru's breath hitches at that, heart almost too eager to jump out of his ribcage. "And quit staring."

He wasn't the biggest fan of silence, like the one right now. It was painful, even more so with your hot breath brushing his face, hands resting on his chest. The captain doesn't dare to blink, tracing your features that were now being bathed by the setting sun. 

"What are you even looking at?" Gojo Satoru, a formidable teacher, a great friend and a complete menace to the society- laughs at that, his thoughts yet again dragged away by you. His arms find solace around your waist, squeezing your form a tad bit closer.

"Ah," he says, eyes twinkling as they land on your lips. "Just the cuisine in front of me."

And you can't help but feel a laugh bubble up in your throat. And when you let it out, a puff of delighted, airy laughter- warm and enticing- more than just enough to devour his remaining sense of rationality.

"Want a taste?" You' wished to retort, he supposes- but he was never one to wait for an offer. And thus, the taunt dies an untimely death in your throat as his lips moulded into yours. Moving painstakingly slowly against yours- blurring the line between pleasure and torture. His hand rests against your waist while the other gently grabs hold your wrist- just to pin you against the shelf. 

Gojo Satoru, 27 and very much drunk on the sweet warmth the setting sun filled him with, takes his time to let go of your wrist and web his hand through yours. Your fingers curl around his, giving it a gentle squeeze. And at that- his eyes fluttering open wide, stares at it for a while, hoping it's just as warm as he imagines.

He nibbles on your lips, smiling when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. He bites your lower lip, smirking when a whimper escapes your mouth and seizes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Another whimper and he feels the need to pick up his pace. And he does.

You pull him closer almost greedily and with a swift motion of your hand you lift off the sunglasses out of your way. And so his bare eyes watch you, painted red, yellow and fuchsia with the sun's last moments of glory. Closing your eyes, you let him reforget and explore every cavern of your mouth. 

Heat rose from the pit of Gojo Satoru's stomach to his chest. And then it spread everywhere else like a wildfire- too fast to tame. And so he thinks it's a good idea to press closer again, and again- until his heat consumes the both of you as whole.

The hand intertwining yours lets go, travels down to play with the perfectly tucked in end of your shirt. A heartbeat, and the cavalry captain feels your back arch at what was his rather rough, gloved hand grazing against your skin that hid underneath. You shakily groan into the kiss as he draws comforting circles on your exposed skin-shivering every now and then at the sensation.

It was as if time had stopped for Gojo Satoru, the divine manipulator of space and time itself, as you both stood there enjoying each other's warmth, pressed together. The otherwise silent infirmary was in chaos with your heavy breaths resonating around. It was as if no one else existed, nor was there any risk of the strongest sorcerer's soul was to be eviscerated from his body by Shoko the moment she barges in.

For now, all Gojo Satoru could think of was you, your forehead, beaded with sweat resting against his. His mind was fixated on your dewy scent and the softness of your hand on his jaw- pushing him apart for a much needed breather and then, smiling. 

He smiles too, just to realise how much his facial muscles hurt. Satoru doesn't know if it's from all the kissing or how wide his grin was stretching. He doesn't feel the need to, somehow. 

"How was the taste, Oh honoured one?" You tease. It came out as a low, airy whisper (thanks to all that kissing, he supposes), several octaves lower than your usual tone of speaking. Something very out of character for you. And it drives Satoru crazy, leaving him wanting for more. 

He hums, tilting his head. "It was good, I suppose-" and realises how low and equally kiss bitten his voice was, "-but I would like to reassess."

"Oh really?" You muse, one hand still lost in his silvery white locks while the other rested on his jaw in peace. "I see we have to run the quest again," pause. "-Can't disobey the boss here, can we?"

And the next thing he knows is your lips hovering over his, hot and ragged breaths ghosting over his face. The keen sense of rationality the greatest sorcerer took such a great pride in, dissolves again as he pushes himself closer to your warmth. You take a deep breath before letting your lips meet his, and when you do, Gojo feels a smile pressed against his. He smiles back, inhaling your soul as the hand on his jaw brings him closer- deepening the kiss.

And at this very moment, he worries about neither Shoko nor his impending death that might be awfully near. All that mattered, as of now, was the maddening symphonies of your hearts rapidly racing, a foreign sound rushing in his ears and an unfamiliar yet soothing wave of comfort washing over the shore of his chest.

And it is when he realises. 

Gojo Satoru was falling in love with you.

Shit.

ayaaato, 2023. All rights reserved.

[sionisjaune]

19 (ofc i love a club scene) and coke head nico au? what are he and lewis up to these days?

Setting prompts

A bit of a timeskip since the last installment, but please enjoy:

"It's been a while," says a familiar nasal drawl.

Lewis spins in the tight space wedged between other patrons clamouring at the bar. His gaze settles on a familiar blonde head painted a vivid turquoise by the overhead lights. He glances to the left and right, looking for a viable escape route, and Nico cocks his hip with his usual bitchy air.

The music pounds between Lewis's ears. His head spins. Nico sparkles like some kind of fairy, or like Lewis is tripping on something Nico slipped onto his tongue. He has to remind himself that he hasn't seen Nico in at least a year and a half and that Nico never actually gave him anything.

Nico rolls his eyes, one hand perched on his own hip, his shirt gaping at the collar. A terribly unstylish pendant hangs around his throat. "Well you're the same as ever," says Nico, dry.

Lewis swallows, tries to subtly cough the dryness from his throat. He bites his lip to prevent an embarrassing sound like uhhh from escaping his lips. Nico always has such eloquent things to say, even when he's fucked up.

In the end, Lewis steps away from the bar and ducks his head to speak into Nico's ear. "What are you doing here?" he says.

Nico tosses his head, the ends of his hair tickling Lewis's cheek. "What do you think? I'm here to fucking party." Lewis tilts his head to the side to get a better look at Nico and thinks he spies a wrinkle sprouting from the corner of Nico's eye. It's possible that his lips are chapped. There might even be half a millimetre of stubble on his jaw. "Are you going to be any fun?"

Lewis pulls away from Nico. Someone bumps him in the side on the way to the bar and shouts an apology in Lewis's ear. Lewis raises his voice above the jackhammer beat of the music.

"Are we going to talk about it?" he shouts. "Man, I haven't seen you in--"

"Whatever," says Nico. He rolls his eyes again, and Lewis notices that his pupils have swelled to fill his irises like a giant, black pit. He isn't trying to coil himself around Lewis like he usually does, like a lovesick cat. His brow is shiny, and his hair is dark at the roots. His fingertips shake. It's funny. He was almost sober the last time Lewis saw him--naked under the sheets in Lewis's apartment. Now, his words come out in a monotone tumble, spewing from his mouth like carelessly tossed stones. He gestures towards the back of the club with a loose hand. "I feel like getting fucked, and I saw you across the club. Just shut up, and let's go."

[jyndor]

nights are so starry, blood moon lit

@andorerso: I'd like to request a ficlet about Jyn discovering Cassian has a kyber crystal necklace too (because he does, fuck you Luthen) happy early birthday <33

lmfao well sissi it’s OUR birthday fic now but jk this is for you lol hope you like it and also ofc the pretentious swiftie title asjdskjaskjd happy birthday bitchh

She was sleeping where she sat down hours ago. The asset, Galen Erso’s daughter, the girl with the smothered need and the fire in her green eyes. Jyn Erso. I’ve never had the luxury of political opinions, and she had lied about that. Cassian had known that from her history with Saw Gerrera alone, but… her eyes, those twin truther-tellers, had given her away. He just wasn't sure anyone else had noticed.

On the ship, her eyelids twitched and her brow furrowed; she was dreaming.

The ship reverting to realspace over Jedha shook Erso out of her fitful sleep. The old pendant under his shirt turned to ice against his sternum. He stilled by the terminal and swallowed a gasp. Waited for the other shoe to drop.

Over the years Cassian had come to find some level of comfort, of focus, in its presence. Cold and ever present, like the man who had given it to him; if he were the sort of man to attribute moods to rocks and things, to believe in the Force, he’d have said the frigid sting against his heart was a warning.

Jyn pulled something clear and bright out from beneath her collar. Light from beyond NaJedha’s little moon catches in her hand - and refracts.

In her fingers (the dust of Wobani still underneath her fingernails, even after a long anxious wait for her to finish up in the blasted sonic) she held a crystal. Kyber, he was certain. What sort was irrelevant, and that she had one was not terribly surprising given her father’s work.

But it set him ill at ease, like the trembling suppressed need he'd seen in her green eyes back on Yavin IV. Dread (or anticipation, he’s not in the habit of deluding himself. Not anymore.)

He blinked as Erso carefully tucked the crystal back under her tunic, and dragged himself away from his hiding spot behind her. There was, as always, a job to do.

And no time for familiar stones or dead religions.

//

Cassian has that baby-soft freshness to his hair and skin that only comes with a dip in bacta. He’s in the midst of a dream, Jyn thinks as she sits beside his cot in the medbay. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes dart back and forth underneath his eyelids. He has long lashes that dust those sharp cheekbones of his. His hair falls into his face as he sighs and shifts to turn towards her, like how her father’s flowers would tilt towards the Lah’mu sun, unthinking, that DNA-deep need for light.

She wants to brush out the tension in his face with her fingertips, and so she does. Unthinking but conscious.

His brow relaxes. A hand reaches up to grip her wrist, gentle but firm. His eyes blink open, dark brown and very much awake.

“Jyn?” he rasps. She tries to pull her hand back, but he holds true.

She glances down at their hands, her heart racing in her ears. Surely Cassian can feel her pulse under his thumb. “How are you feeling today?”

“Like shit,” he says, voice gravelly from disuse.

“Here,” Jyn pulls her hand out of his grip and reaches for the glass of water she’d placed on his bedside table earlier. She brings the glass to his lips and watches him sip. It’s so intimate, a quiet moment for which she frankly isn’t sure they have the time. Not now.

She sets the glass down when he’s had enough and reaches for her kyber crystal.

His eyes track her fingers. The warmth of the pendant and the warmth of his gaze… she doesn’t know what to do with either.

“Tell me.” He tears his gaze away from her hands.

Jyn wants to cry. She wants to wrap him up and put him on a ship headed anywhere that isn’t Yavin IV. Instead, she sits back down on the side of his cot.

“Okay,” she says, voice cracking through the grief. “Princess Leia arrived a little while ago. With the plans.”

Those vibro-sharpened eyes study her. “Jyn.”

“It’s coming,” she tells him, hardening her spine. “The Death Star is coming.”

//

The strongest stars have hearts of kyber. That’s what that old Guardian, Chirrut, said to Jyn that morning. It was a pretty thought but it was also Cassian’s biggest concern - a weapon like this alleged planet killer, powered by massive amounts of kyber. Kyber from Jedha and Christophsis and Ke- well, so many places. Worlds he probably doesn’t even know about.

Some he was trying not to forget. Lost words, lost worlds, and always in the background: crystals.

Pointing the way, leading him to the ancient place Gerrera had holed him and his people in. It was crumbling around Cassian as he ran. Desperate and thinking only of the constant refrain Jyn Jyn Jyn I have to find Jyn, and his pendant was so cold against his skin it burned.

//

It turns out that metal stars with kyber hearts don’t stand a chance against a Jedi. Jyn stares at the darkening sky and the glittering pieces of her father’s other creation, her twin, as they break apart in the atmosphere. Leaning on her shoulder and the cane the medics had given him after he discharged himself is Cassian. He’s shaking a bit from the exertion or the view. Perhaps many things.

He’s changed out of his medbay gown and into some of his usual khakis. With his arm around her shoulders and her head beside his neck, she can see for the first time a gold chain mostly hidden underneath his tunic.

She leads him to where Ruescott Melshi and Taidu Sefla are standing near a parked x-wing. Melshi’s got a mug of something in his hand, and Sefla grins at them. “Nice of you to show up, Sarge!”

“Cass,” Melshi says, relief clear in his face. “Heard you took a tumble.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You’re a hero now, Andor,” Sefla laughs. “Best get used to the gossip."

Cassian looks a bit queasy at the thought and pulls Jyn closer to him. She feels Cassian’s breath against her temple. Melshi looks at them for a moment as he sips his drink and laughs. “Come here, you lucky son of a bitch,” he presses his lips against Cassian’s temple before reaching over him and ruffling Jyn’s hair. She scowls from underneath her fringe. “Pathfinders could use your balls, Erso.”

“Yours not big enough?” But she can’t help the smile that’s cracking through her exterior.

Beside her, Cassian looks up at the sky again, his thumb tracing the knot tying her necklace together. “Stardust,” he murmurs, and she feels her pendant hot against her skin; when he meets her eyes again his are burning too.

//

Over the years Cassian had gotten used to the kyber against his chest turning cold. It was a strange thing and as he learned more about kyber and the Jedi and Galen Erso, he had experienced a funny little hope that perhaps he would get the opportunity to ask the literal preeminent expert in kyberite why his crystal behaved less like a thing and more like the echo of a sentient. A silly delusion, he'd known, even before General Draven gave him the order to kill Erso.

For the first time in his memory his kyber burned white hot against his skin. If he were a superstitious man, one prone to fancies like belief in the Force and crystals, he might have called it an omen. Instead he exhaled the thought away and brushed his soaking hair out of his face. 

Eadu was cold and damp and cruel. His vision blurred in his viewfinder; rain dripped from his lashes.

Cassian was going to kill this man, a man who had unleashed a monstrosity onto the galaxy and abandoned his child to do it. What kind of a man willingly left a child behind? He didn't know the details nor needed to. Cassian doubted he’d live long enough to ask her if Galen had put up a fight before she slit his throat.

He would have done it if it were him. For Kerri, for Jeron and Tlalli. For Clem he'd tried and for Maarva he'd not gotten the chance, too busy saving the living to deal with the dead.

And for Jyn I already have, he thought despite himself. And I would do it again. He readjusted his finger on the trigger, cold righteous fury demanding justice and revenge.

Justice from Galen Erso, who was probably a prisoner of the Empire, who had very likely rigged the planet killer, the Death Star, to blow. Who Jyn believed in despite everything he'd never been for her.

He thought of her terrible, beautiful need - a bright point in the galaxy. He’d known martyrs and loved and hated them, he'd seen them burn bright and fast, read their manifestos and heard their theories. Eaten their food. Laid in their beds once or twice.

Killed more than a few of them, too.

In his sights was a singular moment of clarity: Galen Erso had his daughter’s eyes. That need, that fire, flashing and cracking and so familiar.

He wouldn’t be the one to pull the trigger on her. He couldn’t be the one to snuff out her fire. He doesn't think he would survive, oxygen-deprived in the absence of her need.

But in the end, Galen Erso still died in his daughter’s arms. Cassian pulled her away from the body and dragged her away towards the next fight, a thrice-abandoned child. Another orphan.

He was beaten and bloodied in the wake of her grief. Her words cut like knives, sharp and wounding.

Bodhi piloted them in silence. He imagined Jyn was right where he left her, shaking and bitterly cold. Or alone under the Kenari canopy, small and afraid, quiet except for in his memory.

It was like looking into a mirror and seeing all those long-buried hurts, surfacing under such sudden attention.

She won't want to see me right now, Cassian thought. She may never want to see me again.

His kyber was cold. He wanted to reach into his shirt and hold it, press it into his palm and coax that heat back. 

But he didn’t know any of these people - and Kaytoo couldn’t keep a secret - so he just watched the starlines.

//

Cassian gets a promotion. Bodhi gets a ship and the Guardians a Jedi to train. And Jyn finds herself with a commission. They all turn down Leia’s medals, preferring what little anonymity they might have left to the perks of being heroes of the Rebellion. 

Medals and ceremonies are nice, but Jyn thinks that there is no better reward than hustling assholes out of credits with Bodhi, or going to the shooting range with Baze and Cassian, or sparring with Chirrut, or playing coding games with Kaytoo. She runs missions with Melshi and the Pathfinders from time to time, and she joins Cassian and Kay on intel ops that require less… subtlety. She’s got their backs, and she knows that they’ve got hers. 

But. Cassian’s gone sometimes for weeks on end, but then he comes back, and her kyber burns against her sternum, burns like her need to tell him what she’s more and more certain of with each passing day. 

She always wants to see him. She wants to stand by his side, cover his ass. She never wants him to have to work alone again. 

If he wants that. If he wants her to stick around.

There are other wants: sharing bunks and breathing in the same air, lying skin to skin or not, just being seen and held and wanted. 

But she’ll take what he’s willing to give her.

//

“I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad,” she says. He’s certain now, falling into her orbit, his kyber burning like a sun. The kyber crystals: they’re the point. They’ve always been the point, the biggest picture.

He’s been running to something this whole time. His whole life. Running towards, even though it has always felt like away. Searching for connection, for something he has thought he’s lost. And all this time, kyber. A navigator to lead him to this moment, pointing him towards this cause, this particular moment. These exact coordinates under his worn and calloused feet.

Pointing him in the direction he’s been heading his whole life, guiding him home. Crystals in the sky, green and gold. Heat breaching shields, pressure all around.

Her eyes are warm, too.

“Welcome home.”

//

He’s bleeding from a blaster wound to the shoulder. Jyn bites her lip as she shepherds him into their ship’s little kitchenette, heart racing, palms sticking to the worn leather of her gloves, and she pulls his tunic off without ceremony, professional and single-minded despite his protests that he’s fine, and that he can handle dressing his wound, and that she should go check in with Draven.

She wants to punch him. She also wants to kiss him, and isn’t that just like him - to be so completely charming after jumping in front of her and taking the shot she hadn’t seen -

Kyber. Blue like the sky and hot against her fingertips. Against his chest. She presses her palm against the pendant, drawn in like some sort of merryfly to a light. Cassian wipes his thumb against her eye, brushes against her damp lashes. And she remembers herself. 

Jyn opens a medpac and cleans the wound. It’s relatively minor, more of a graze. She focuses on fitting the bacta patch over it neatly; smoothes over it with her fingers so that there are no bubbles or crumpled edges.

“It’s a Kuati signet. Kyber.” He catches her hand and places it over his heart, right onto the burning shard of kyber. She curls her fingers around it, scratching lightly against his chest hair. He shivers. “But you know that,” he adds, his voice low and near. She looks up to see him leaning close to her, as he is wont to do. They orbit, they pull each other closer all the time. Like some inevitable collision, held in stasis.

His dark eyes are bright in the dingy fluorescent lighting.

“My mum was a geologist.” She snakes her hands up his chest and around his neck. “And you know about Papa.”

“I’ve wanted to show you,” he says imploringly, hand back on her cheek, calloused thumb rubbing so gently against her skin. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, Jyn.”

She gasps into his air as her kyber cools against her skin. She gazes through her lashes at his lips and pushes up on her toes to close the distance between them. “Tell me, then,” Jyn murmurs against his lips. “Show me.”

[convexicalcrow]

Love you Lost Prince AU and I felt inspired to draw fabart but I would like to know, how does Cub, Scar and Ma'akhi look like? I'm not familiar with Ancient Egyptian wear and I want to protray them as respectable as possible. (Or if drawing them is right out, then I will respect that request too!) Thank you in advance

O: !!!!

I would love some Lost Prince AU fanart omg yes pls! <3 I'm so excited my fics inspired you to want to make art for it! :D

I'm gonna start with Ma'akhi bc there's less to explain lol, but bear with me, Imma infodump for you anon. :D

Also I will preface this by saying, while I'll share a lot of historical stuff here for reference, this ancient Egypt is an AU with a different timeline, so feel free to take these as a reference and make them your own. Also feel free to use the AU tag when posting so I can see it. :D

For Ma'akhi, his heritage is Roman-Egyptian, and he's mid-30s. His parents were merchants and traders, and they made many trips to Djesdjes while he was a child. He served regularly in the temple when they were staying at the oasis, but only joined permanently once his parents died. This was before the invasion. He did have a Roman name when he was born, but his Egyptian name is what he goes by now. In full, his name is Djehutyma'akheru, 'Djehuty is true of voice'. Ma'akhi is the nickname.

This is the only image I have rn of Ma'akhi. It's a doll maker image i made of him years ago when I was working on this world as original fiction, and while it's not entirely accurate in terms of 'this is what he looks like/this is what he wears' with perhaps the exception of the face, it's at least 'these are the vibes' lol. I'd love to see some actual art of him because that doll is all I have rn!

The outfit he's in here is probably what he'd wear outside of temple spaces when he's not dressed as a priest. I don't see him as the type to wear a wig like other Egyptians would, but he would if the occasion called for it. His dress blends both Roman and Egyptian items, esp jewellery. I suspect he'd have a bunch of non-Egyptian stuff he'd acquired while travelling with his parents.

As a priest, he would wear a long white linen kilt, a white sash over his right shoulder across his body (a mark of Djehuty priests in this AU), papyrus sandals, and as high priest, he would wear the leopard skin cloak. He would also have shaved his whole body. No wool or leather was to be worn in the temple.

^ Priestly attire. But this AU would have longer skirts, usually ankle length, with pleats (and feel free to get Very Fancy with the pleats if you want to). Ma'akhi would be the guy on the far left. Cub and Scar would be closer to the middle two, but with Scar not wearing a sash, and both with longer kilts. Cub, Scar, and Ma'akhi may also wear white linen cloaks for night rituals or outside processions to protect from the heat.

For regular wear, they might just wear shorter kilts, pleated kilts, or tunics. Both Cub and Scar prefer to have their heads shaved, and would definitely wear wigs. I feel like Scar's would be more decorated than Cub's. Cub and Scar are also light-skinned Egyptians, but I'd take their skin tone less White and more tanned/brown to fit their ethnicity.

The pendant Cub wears looks something like this:

Except emerald rather than stone. It'd be about 1.5in/4cm long. It would sit around the middle of the chest near the heart area.

Sans cat, this is the style of carnelian ring Cub wears, with a slightly thicker band:

Scar wears no specific jewellery pieces, but I imagine he wears a bunch of stuff based on what he's been able to steal/trade/haggle off others. So beaded collars, single strings of beaded necklaces, arm bands or bracelets, a variety of rings, pectoral amulets, idk, google some Egyptian jewllery and pick things you think look nice. He's dedicated to Bast ofc so any Bast amulets would be a must, or anything with cats on it. He also carries a satchel/bag with potions, writing tools, and spellbooks in it.

In soldier mode, Cub carries a sword, small pouches for small spells and amulets on his belts, and a shield. Scar fights with bow and arrow if he has to, but he leaves the fighting to Cub. He prefers to talk his way out of danger.

For the Egyptians, the Libyan people (the rebu) were sometimes depicted as light-skinned people.

^ From left to right we have 4 Libyans, a Nubian, an Asiatic, and an Egptian. From Seti I's tomb.

^ A rendering of a Libyan warrior.

For my AU, I imagine them wearing more of a loincloth or short kilt and some kind of leather straps around their waist (an influence from contact with Roman armies or serving with them as mercenaries). More of a short tunic when travelling for comfort and sun protection. Leather sandals. They would have grown their hair and beards out too.

Pix, as the Copper King, isn't Libyan, but more like the Berber or Bedouin tribes, but more based on Pixandrian culture than those ones specifically. The mines are a diverse mix of people who've found a home there.

Pearl as the governor of Djesdjes is both a warrior and an official. She would dress as a soldier if defence of the oasis is called for, but when out of that role, she's more in sheath dresses and sandals, with long wigs and gold jewellery. Darker skin than Cub and Scar bc she's got a different ethnic mix, and she's spent a lot of time outside fighting with her soldiers.

ANYWAY. I hope that is enough infodumping anon! :D If you have any further questions, pls do ask and I will do my best to answer you! :D I'm excited and honoured you want to make art for my AU and I can't wait to see it! :D

[swimminginanunknownparadise]

Gifts

pairing: Manny Ribera x reader

summery: Manny told you to dress up but he thought you needed something else, only the best for his querida.

a/n: so I’m aware that I did not mention this coming out… that’s because I wrote this in half an hour after watching Scarface last night. I fell in love with Manny all over again and ofc I had to write for him. It’s short, but I’m really proud of it.

You were checking your appearance in the mirror, just getting ready to know what was planned for the night. You hummed as you twirled in the mirror, smoothing out the creases of your dress. You’d gotten into the nicest, shortest dress you could and applied just the right amount of makeup. You ran your hands down your midsection, admiring yourself when you felt, soft, cold hands on your neck. You didn’t panic, though. Knowing all too well who the hands belong to, you leaned back a small bit just to give him more access. Manny took the chance to fasten a necklace and let it drop. It landed neatly on your collar bone and shimmered in the light beautifully. “What’s this for?” You turn to look up at him through your lashes.

“Can’t I treat my darling without a reason?” He asked and you smiled at him lovingly, liking the view of his big grin, pearly white teeth, and chocolate brown eyes. They had a mischievous glimmer in them that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up with excitement. “Well, of course you can,” you said as you turned away from him to admire the necklace in the mirror. The silver chain had a pendant with the biggest sapphire you’d ever seen and it made your eyes go a little bit wider. He came up behind you and began to pepper soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, moving to hold you from behind. You sighed happily, resting your hands on his, swaying to the nonexistent music.

“Mi amada, you look so beautiful,” he cooed sweetly in your ear. It rolled off his tongue effortlessly and you leaned against him, feeling your heart racing. You closed your eyes as his hands traveled down your body at a painfully slow pace. You huffed when he stopped at your mid drift and turned to look at him again, a pout on your face. “We won’t ever get to dinner if you keep getting cheeky, Mr. Ribera.” You tapped your finger on his chest and he grinned at you.

“Well, cariño, we don’t exactly have to go out tonight, do we?” He then pouted at you and you pursed your lips in thought for a moment, unsure of your next retort. Then you grinned at him. “Well, of your a good boy at dinner I think I’ll let you do whatever you want after.” He chuckled eagerly at that and grabbed your hips, pulling you as close to him as he could. “And if not?” He had that cheeky ass grin and you giggled as you stood on your tip toes to whisper in his ear, “I’ll make it hell for you.” He swallowed thickly as you pulled away, a teasing grin on your lips , then you turned away from him to admire your new accessory again.

“I’ll get the car ready then, ok?” He looked you up and down, biting his lip and you nodded. “Of course, darling. I’ll meet you in just a few minutes.” Nodding while looking you up and down again, he muttered an “ok.” Then he disappeared into the hall and you hummed the song that had been playing in the car earlier that day when coming home from brunch as you walked to your perfume shelf. You picked a beachy scent and spritzed it on, inhaling the scent with an eager smile.

[readerinsertz]

(Age 20) Hiii could you possibly write more abt reki and puppy play? Im in love with that idea and would love to hear anything else you can write about it 🥺💞 if you have the time and desire to write it ofc! (Fem! Reader please)

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+Content, MDNI, afab!reader, pet play, puppy play, kneeling, oral (male receiving), bit of verbal humiliation, ball worship, deep throating, oral fixation, not proofread, little degradation, cum eating/swallowing, soft dehumanisation (been reading to many kylo ren fics)

A/N: thank you for putting your age 😭😭 This is a bit diff to the kinks list thing I did, guess I'm in a certain m o o d

“Gooood girl,” Reki coos as you drop the ball back into his palm. Your hips wiggle at the praise, the tail attached to the buttplug nestled in your ass tickling the back of your thighs as it swings. Reki gently throws the ball to the other side of his workshop. You don’t move, staring adoringly at him.

“Okay, fetch.” Reki gives you permission and you bound over to where the ball is rolling to a halt. You open your mouth to grab the ball, pausing to make sure the ball was firmly in your clutch before heading back to your Master and dropping it by his feet.

“Such a good girl,” Reki tells you, crouching so he could roughly pet your head with both hands. You just wiggle your butt more in happiness. The red haired male leans back, amber eyes flicking up to your now lopsided ears. Strong fingers pull the band back into position, giving your head one last pet. You flop onto your back, showing him your tummy as you pant in response. “I have the cleverest puppy in the entire world.” Reki coos down at you in his baby voice. It has heat burning across your cheeks at how he uses a tone made for animals on you. The heat in between your thighs is molten from it though. He runs a hand down your front, stopping at your dripping pussy and cupping his hand over it. You whine and roll your hips into him, hoping to get some stimulation on your clit.

“Awww, is my puppy girl in heat? Is that why she’s humping my hand like a bitch? Need something inside of you?” Reki asks in a condescending tone. You can only whimper in response, begging him with your brown eyes to help you. Instead, the male stands up and stares down at you.

“Heel.” You roll back onto hands and knees, sidestepping you’re by his heels. Reki gives you a head pat as a reward then strides to the other side where his workbench is located. You keep in line with him, never straying from his heels.

“Such a clever girl. Who’s a clever girl? Are you a clever girl?” Reki asks as he sits down in the chair. Your butt frantically shakes and you let out a few short barks at the words. Reki laughs at how happy you are, resisting the urge to go back to playing with you. He turned the chair back to the table and began tinkering with some skateboard objects. You sit back on your heels, shaking your head just to hear your collar jingle, the heart-shaped pendant with “Reki’s” hitting the material of the collar and your clavicle a few times. For a few minutes, you’re content to just sit and watch your Master work away. Eventually, though you get bored. A hand bats the seated male’s thigh, getting his attention.

“What’s the matter? What does my good girl need?” Reki asks, stopping all his work to give you his full concentration. You turn your head to the small box of toys and make a whining noise. “Go ahead, princess, pick one,” Reki gives you permission, comprehending your noises- it had taken a while to not talk in this headspace but Reki had put so much time and effort into your training that gradually you had gotten better at not talking. Your head tilts to the side as you look at the toys in the box, trying to decide which toy you want. Reki calls your name, a sign to hurry up with the choosing. You pick a blue rubber bone, grabbing it in your jaw and trotting to your Master.

“Whatcha pick?” Reki ask, hand out for you to drop it in. You’re not feeling bratty so immediately let it fall into his waiting palm. Even though at the end of every session Reki cleans all the toys used, he stills reaches into a drawer and gets a wet wipe to clean it, using a tissue to dry it off. Once cleaned and dried he hands it vertically back to you. You jump up onto your knees to grab it, half the toy sticking out of your lips. Reki snorts, the curves at the end of the thin bone making it look like balls and a penis disappearing into your hot mouth. Your head tilts again, confused at why Master was chucking at you. Reki just rubs the top of your head and gets back to his work. You decide your puppy brain is too small to try and understand why he was laughing and instead crawl under the table to lay on the pink cushion Reki had placed.

Having the bone in your mouth makes it even harder than normal to think of anything other than sucking Reki’s long cock. You don't even notice your head starting to bob up and down the long, thin part of the bone until you feel it wobbling. You cage it in between your inner wrists, not even thinking about using your hands with their opposable thumbs. With the additional support, you begin to sink your mouth down the bone. Saliva drips from your lips, making the slide easier. It doesn’t take too many bobs until your lips are wrapped around the bottom of the shaft, your tongue swirling around the rounded bone ends. You rest there for a few moments, eyes rolled back as you relish having something fulling your mouth. A few more butt wiggles escape without you realising; you’re too out of it to even acknowledge that at some point in your blowjob your hips had raised, back arching to show you were ready to be mounted.

“Seems my good girl is more a slut than a good girl,” Reki states. You dart your eyes up, not even bothering to remove the toy, Reki stares down at you, resting his head on one hand. He doesn’t look angry so you wiggle your butt. Your Master sighs and pushes away from the table, one hand snatching a handful of your hair and pulling you towards his crotch. “If you wanted to be a cocksucker you should have told me,” he scolds, one hand managing to undo his belt and pop his button. Your eyes are focused on the bulge straining at the seam of his jeans. The skater lets go of your hair for a few seconds to unzip his flyer and wrestle his trousers down enough to free his dick. Unfortunately, he forgot to account for his over-eager puppy. The moment you felt his hand let go of your hair, you jerk forward and nuzzle his clothed member. A hiss above you indicates that Master enjoyed your actions and you move to rub your cheek against the rough material again but Reki jerks your head back with the back of your collar. You choke for a second but let the male manhandle you into the position he wants.

“So fucking impatient,” Reki mutters under his breath, one hand wrapping around the base of his freed dick. Your tongue lolls out, never breaking eye contact as he slowly pumps his cock. “Sit,” Reki instructs. Immediately, you obey flattening the tops of your feet onto the floor, resting your weight on them then opening your legs. Your hands rest in the space between your knees and you lean forward so you can roll your feet onto their sides to be more comfortable.

“You want to suck my dick? Let it hit the back of your throat?” Reki asks, bringing the hand that had been jerking his shaft to your mouth. Lips opening, Reki shoves his digits in, the salt taste of his precum making your eyes roll back. “Speak if you want to be a useful cocksucker.”

You pull back, sucking in a breath to start begging Reki for permission to suck his cock. A split second before the words tumble out of your spit-covered lips you remember that puppies don’t talk. You bark up at your Master, praying it would be the right thing.

“Go ahead,” Reki tells you. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at him using his baby voice to order you around. Having sucked the toy and aching to pleasure Reki, you manage to take him all the way down to the base in one go. A few soft curses fall from Reki’s lips; you flick your eyes back up at his knowing how much he loved the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lips wrapped around his dick and your big doe eyes staring at him. Reki rolls his hips, dick inching even further down. The action causes you to gag and pull back a little, Reki’s hand gripping the back of your head allowing you to do so. Thick strands of drool connect your plump lips to the tip of his dick.

Your Master lets you catch your breath for a moment then tugs you back onto his dick. This time his hand is more firm, controlling your movements; when your nose reaches the red curls, your Master keeps you there, groaning at the feel of your throat spasming around the intrusion. You swallow back a gag, Reki jerking his hips up into your mouth at the pleasure. One hand skims up his leg to play with his balls, your tongue sticking out to try and lap them. Reki releases your head and you pull off his dick, wrapping your lips around one and using one hand to massage the other whilst your other hand jerks your boyfriend off. You worship his balls as Reki mutters a mixture of swears and praises, switching to suck on his other testicle and then again to kitten lick his mushroom tip, lapping up the bead of precum.

You can hear Reki edging closer to the edge, the way his pants and moans became louder and more frequent. Your Master uses your collar to pull you off his cock with a popping noise, frantically jerking off in front of you. Your tongue slips out and laps at his tip to give him extra pleasure.

“St-stick your-fuck-tongue out,” Reki tells you breathlessly. You comply without hesitation. The visual of you, on your knees, puppy ears on your head and your tongue sticking out, is the push he needs, spurting cum onto your face and tongue. Reki slouches against the back of the chair, trying to catch his breath. Your tongue remains to stick out, drool dripping from both corners but you ignore it and concentrate on keeping his cum on your tongue.

“What a good girl,” murmurs your Master as he takes in your position, head still leaning back on the chair. “Keeping my cum on her tongue until I tell her to swallow,” you whine in the back of your throat, wanting desperately to do just that. “Go ahead, swallow for me.” You exaggerate the action and open your mouth afterwards. Reki groans appreciatively, a hand lazily stroking your hair. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation, head resting on his thigh. The fire between your legs rages on, hotter than ever, but you’re content for just Reki to get to orgasm. Your eyes snap open when two arms scoop you up and drop you into your Master’s lap.

“Oh, puppy, you really thought I’m not gonna fuck your wet pussy as well?”

[daisiesforlacey]

The Costuming and Coloring of JATP : Part 1 - Julie Molina

I’ve seen so many of these posts and I wanted to make my own! I love costuming and color theory in film and I thought I’d do my own take on jatp! Please keep in mind that I am by no means an expert and this is only my thoughts, and feel free to add your own interpretations and thoughts :)

Heads up this is a super long post (I won’t be coving all of Julie’s outfits, only the ones that have significant meaning)

And none of this could have been possible without Soyon An, the costume designer of jatp! All referenced quotes and information for her can be found here, here, and here

One of the main difficulties of costume design is having the clothing fit the period, tone of the piece, and the character. The characters have to wear the clothes, not the other way around. Who is this person? What are their conflicts? How do they look at the world? What do they value? How do they grow? Just some examples of what good costume designers ask. 

They can also be used as a subtle tool to show who each character is; how we dress is a reflection of ourselves.

JULIE MOLINA:

Ok so we all know she is an absolute queen with AMAZING fits, even from the start of the show! I’m going to go chronologically, just to make it easier on all of us!

Julie starts off the series in a baggy yellow sweatshirt over her blue and white shirt, her painted jeans, fluffy slippers, and a set of necklaces! (Actually we first see her at school, where she wearing a flannel instead of the sweatshirt, but the same concepts apply) This already gives us A TON of information on her!!

Her necklaces include a Virgin Mary pendant, a nod to her heritage and religion and one of her own name, which we can assume is a gift from someone special to her

She puts on the sweatshirt after she gets home and bombed playing in front of her class. Idk about you, but I always want to wear sweatshirts and comfy clothes whenever I feel down, so I infer that that is what Julie is doing! 

There is also something to be said about the visual irony between bright yellow smiley face on the front and Julie’s own grieving

(Also can I just say that I love that Julie is allowed to be a teen and wear silly slippers because their comfortable clothes. I am so tried of teenagers being over sexualized and as a brown girl myself, it’s wonderful to see these multidimensional non white characters!)

Her own painted jeans, (also pretty baggy) and sneakers as said by Soyon An, are painted by Julie! (We also see her creativity later when drawing a cupcake on her mic for Luke’s bday, but that’s another post)

Her creativity seems to have no bounds, and it’s obvious that from the start that this is how she expresses herself!

If you want to get really analytical, one could say that the bright yellow covering up her blue collar could show how Julie herself is trying to cover up her own sadness

The blue and yellow also come up in another scene of hers with Luke, but that is another post entirely

JUST FROM HER CLOTHES ALONE WE, THE VIEWERS, ALREADY SUBCONCIOUSLY KNOW SOOOO MUCH ABOUT JULIE:

She’s most likely Catholic and cherishes her religion and family

She’s not feeling too confident in herself

She’s crazy creative and talented

She’s trying to mask some sort of sadness

ISN’T THAT INSANE??? A TELL TALE SIGN OF A GOOD COSTUMER!

Julie then moves to plaid pants and a cropped lavender blouse (Which I absolutely adore!!!) 

She has just met the boys, and Luke gave her that little pep talk in front of the studio and is now wearing form fitting clothes!

DON’T TWIST THIS: She’s wearing these clothes because she now feels more confident in herself and is ready to sit down and play Wake Up

Julie is wearing more subdued colors; the focus isn’t on her outfit, that’s not where the color is. The color is lighting Julie from behind. The focus of the moment is Julie and her music.

You’ll also notice the lighting behind her shifts from the cold early morning, to the sun rising behind her, again, very poetic. The sun is literally rising on Julie and it is a new dawn for her, and the start of the show itself

Not to mention Wake Up which is literally about moving forward and... waking up lol

This is maybe one of my favorite performance outfits of her! (Who am I kidding, all of them are my favorite)

Julie is wearing a camo jumpsuit with patches and her signature sneakers

The patches, once again, show us that Julie is creative in many ways along with her shoes

I love that all of her outfits seem like the average person could make them and wear them. Yet, these characters are still teenagers and are discovering their own personal style, which can be sort of outlandish. It really works to ground the show in reality with all of the kooky happenings

Julie is once again wearing her necklaces, and we can infer that she wears them all of the time

In this outfit (with an added Double Trouble tshirt underneath), she also sings Flying Solo. The jumpsuit is a reflection of her friendships with the guys and Flynn!

And this outfit with Bright??? Chefs kiss. This is the subtle characterization I live for!

Julie’s actress, Madison Reyes’, mother is in the armed forces. She and Soyon wanted an outfit to pay homage to her, and I think the camo works perfectly

By this time we already have a good grasp on who Julie is

Julie is wearing a neon blue leotard, silver white pants, fishnets, her drawn on white sneakers and a rainbow chunky sequin cloak. She also find a drum major’s cape from the music room. She has her hair in the same cornrowed way as she does in Stand Tall, with pink, red, and blue ribbons.

While I may be jumping the gun this early in the post, I love this detail. This is her fantasy which ends up coming true in the final number and that is just beautiful

Julie’s fantasy outfit in I Got the Music is so extra and wonderful

This is Julie’s idealized self; it is bright and unapologetic and you can’t help but notice her. The outfit is purposefully outlandish and completely unrealistic

This is the first thing that clues you in that this is a fantasy; she does a quick change from her previous outfit. You can also see that her trio of necklaces aren’t there.

She keeps some elements from her actual school outfit, the pants and presumably the leotard, they just get an upgrade

Ok now onto the breakdown:

These are her school colors

This is the first time we see Julie in blue since the first episode. So far, we have seen her in muted tones. This time the blue is vibrant. This signals to the viewers that she is not hiding anymore and has almost reclaimed the color

Soyon specifically said she wanted a hood for Julie such as the Virgin Mary is traditionally depicted with a head covering

Julie is wearing her school colors loud and proud with a cropped LFHS reddish hoodie, underneath is a bright blue leotard, a blue belt, and white distressed jeans and fishnets

Julie is now fully in her element and has formed a band with the boys!!! Woohoo!

If you recall, in this episode, Julie also interacts the most with Carrie and Nick up until now; the two characters rooted in her school life.

Most everything I said in the previous section is here too, just a little toned down.

One thing that I see in this outfit is that she’s wearing a little bit of the boys’ themes; Luke’s blue, Reggie’s red, and Alex’s denim and grey. 

This is also the day that she gets into the conflict with the boys, they go to Bobby’s to get revenge, lie to her, and bail on the dance. I see this as them becoming closer and then falling farther apart.

Julie is also wearing fishnets and socks, which mirrors Dirty Candi’s performance of Wow. This is a wonderful detail to show that the two aren’t so different after all.

I love this outfit and I will forever be mad that we never got to see her perform in it

Julie is wearing her mothers mesh tie dye top, a black tank top, and loose black striped pants

THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT: This is the first time we see her wear her mother’s clothes, a physical representation of her coming to terms with her mother’s death!!!

This is also when Flynn comes up with Julie and the Phantoms, another big milestone. This is when they were supposed to make a mark on her school

(Ofc we all know this is when the boys bail...)

The next day, Julie is wearing a powder blue floral dress, sneakers, with a white t shirt and a cream colored cropped fluffy jacket (this is most aligned with my aesthetic)

Again, this shows that she is experimental with her clothes

 It is also worth noting that Soyon does a good job with establishing that she is a sneaker head, I mean have you seen her kicks????

Now is a good time to talk about character colors: good media will establish a color per character. This helps viewers easily distinguish who they are and how they connect to others. Characters may wear these colors a lot or have significant moments in these colors

The colors also have their own meanings which apply (we’ll look more into this in the Stand Tall dress)

Luke is blue, Julie is purple (as we will see later on), Alex is pink, and Reggie is Red

When characters wear another character’s color it signals to us that they will be having a ‘moment’ with the other character (getting along after fighting, learning something new, etc.)

Alternatively, if a character is wearing colors opposite to another, you know they will clash

In this episode, Julie goes to Luke’s house and learns more about him and Emily AND SHES’S WEARING HIS BLUE!!! BIG MOMENT!!!

ONCE YOU NOTICE COLOR IN FILM, YOU CAN LEARN TO PREDICT WHERE THE STORY IS GOING. THESE ARE SOME HELPFUL HINTS:

Notice a character’s colors and when another character wears them, they will be having a ‘moment’

If the color in the scene isn’t on the character, the focus isn’t on them, maybe it’s on the emotions of the scene or other characters

Colors WILL signify emotions; yellow is happy, blue can be sad or calming depending on the shade, red can be passion or anger. If a character wears a lot of one color, you can predict their emotions

Ok no hate, this is definitely not my favorite outfit. It gives me mad Shake It Up vibes, not that that’s bad, just not my thing.

Julie performs Finally Free in a teal and black dress/shirt, silver biker short, a black vest, and arm bands

It has been confirmed by Charlie and Madison that this is when Luke realizes he like Julie, which makes sense as you see that she is wearing blue (She will now start wearing more of these cool tones)

She is also wearing arm bands, something Luke does often

Her vest is also the same one as the girl from the beginning, which we all know by now is Rose, her mother!

She has upcycled the vest and added her own special twists to it! It also helps for us to see connection between Rose and performing

You can also see a dahlia pin, her mother’s favorite flower. These often make an appearance! (They’re also purple)

It’s Edge of Great Time!! This is maybe the most iconic outfit!

Julie performs in a white blouse with butterflies, her hair also with butterfly clips, her pants are constructed beautifully with black and white panels. She finished the outfit with black and white combat boots and more butterflies!

Soyon specifically said that the butterflies represent Julie coming out of her cocoon and coming into herself, like a butterfly would!

This is truly her most powerful and performance worthy outfit and sucks all of the attention to her

Julie’s clean contrast of black and white also make her stand out from the rest of the band! The combination is often a symbol of power and truth! (Think judges robes)

Time to get some tissues, Unsaid Emily, it’s your turn!

This is what I consider Julie’s most average and basic outfit, but there is a lot to analyze here: A magenta sweater and jeans.

This sweater is her mothers; meaning it is probably a comforting item for her, seeing as she is about to have a very emotional moment, calling back to that yellow sweater in the beginning!

Also see how this has blue, pink, and red designs, and I’m sure by now you can tell what I am going to say: These are the guys colors! 

She’s going to have a heartfelt moment involving them, and it fits. This is one of the emotional climax’s of the show and this is when she becomes even closer with the Phantoms

You can tell, just from her standing on the steps of Luke’s house what is about to go down (Well maybe not all of the tears, but still)

Julie goes to check on the guys in the studio in a blue floral shirt and blue jeans

These are once again, Luke’s colors, but are slowly becoming THEIR colors. She wears these when she is saying goodbye to her best friends

This is also the outfit that Julie’ wears when she finds them after the performance and they haven’t crossed over. 

It makes perfect sense that she is wearing all blue when SHE AND LUKE HUG!!! (And then all of the boys too in the best group hug ever)

Of course we’re gonna end the post with this absolutely ICONIC outfit!

Julie is wearing a purple dress with purple tulle, a bedazzled leather jacket, and her hair IN THE SAME STYLE AS I GOT THE MUSIC!!!

Lets go one by one:

The dress is a Balmain dress that Soyon got for $500, then she completely deconstructed it and made it to fit Madison! that’s incredible

This is the climax of the show: the boy are ‘doing their unfinished business,’ Julie is playing the Orpheum, and what color is she wearing but PURPLE! What color are dahlias? PURPLE! What color has had the most significance? PURPLE! What do red, blue, and pink make up? PURPLE! PURPLE IS JULIE’S CHARACTER COLOR

You’ll also notice that her jacket has pink, red, and blue accents, the colors of Alex, Reggie and, Luke, to show that they have become a part of her and she is now a part of them

That’s the same for her hair

It shows how she has now achieved her dream, her make believe world is now her reality

I really think we’ll see more of Julie in purple in the seasons to come, now that she has found herself

I hope that you all have learned a little about color and costuming in this post! Once you get the hang of it, it becomes really fun, like a puzzle!

I hope to do more of these with the rest of the characters as well!

Feel free to add on your own ideas and interpretations!

[gingyboo]

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

Prologue

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Chapter 1

It was when she was 25 that she saw him again. Sat at the dresser applying make up for the evenings gala, and he appeared, staring straight back at her. James Buchanan Barnes. She knew him from the news, from her dad’s job. Nancy stifled a scream, his brows knitted in confusion.

‘’This can’t be happening.’’ He said lifting his hand up to the mirror. The redeemed assassin looked at you in awe.

But it had happened, and she stared back at him, a while before words found her. Then they talked, he smiled shyly at her, even laughed, he asked if she was scared of him and to her surprise she wasn’t. She found herself smiling back. Her heart felt lighter, her body stronger, as though a candlelight within had turned into a roaring fire. It was an emotional overload, she felt on the edge of tears whilst smiling fully, wanted to crawl through the mirror of her vanity, wanted to touch him, hold him. It was like the stories said, and yet so much more. Then duty called and though she wanted to stay she had her commitments and he his. So, they decided to talk later. Times set they both left the mirror. Everything changed after that, they tried to talk though a mirror as often as they could, wanting so badly to meet. Timing was off though, he had his assignments, unfinished business, it wouldn’t be safe for them to be together yet. Better it be a secret for now. Nancy busied herself, taking on some off her father’s business in London whilst he preferred to stay overseas. After his divorce from her mother, he’d taken up the position of the English ambassador in Wakanda, Nancy often found herself at important dinners, luncheons and galas whilst her father’s fellow diplomats attempted to lobby her for information on Wakanda. The secretive country had embraced her father with open arms since they opened up to the world.

Bucky had a plan; sort himself out, seek absolution for the winter soldier’s crimes and then, only then, find Nancy, settle down in a little place in the country and, finally, live. It was a good plan at first, finding forgiveness wasn’t easy but Nancy was always there the other side of the mirror to spur him on. With that smile, well that smile made him think he could do anything. They ended up talking for hours in the evening or catching glimpses of each other throughout the day. She was like his guardian angel watching over him. Finally, maybe, a reason for his extended life, a new purpose, a happy ending in sight. With Steve gone he’d been lost and alone, but now there was her.

‘’I’m in France but the Wakandans say they got something they need me and Sam for, a favour of sorts. It’s alright it was a dead lead anyway’’ He said one evening whilst securing the straps on his jacket.

‘’Well, you be careful,’’ she pleaded, he smirked at this waving his vibranium arm at her,

‘’I’ll be fine doll,’’ his smirk softened into a warm smile as she fastened her necklace.

‘’I like that one, somewhere special you’re off to tonight?’’ The necklace once belonged to her great-grandmother, Charlotte Cartwright, quite the woman from the stories Nancy had heard, married her great-grandfather against the in laws wishes, refused to stay at home when her husband went to war so volunteered in the French field hospitals. Spoke three languages and could drink any sailor under the table. The necklace it’s self was a ruby pendant, Art Deco setting, that sat comfortably beneath Nancy’s collar bones. Too flashy for every day.

‘’Just one of those dinners, then a show, thing for dad’s work he didn’t feel like making the trip, and well, I do love the ballet.’’ She laughed shaking her head, letting her dark hair swim around her shoulders. She didn’t love ballet, but she did love her father, and if he felt the need to stay at his job in Wakanda for now, she would play her part in London.

‘’Well, you sure look the part...’’ as he stared at her, a longing ache filled her chest. ‘’after this assignment, I’m going talk to Sam, I’m going tell him about you and us and I’m going take a break, I need to meet you.’’ Nancy nodded back at his words ‘’I never thought, god I never thought it would feel like this,’’ he continued pressing his flesh hand against the glass on his side. She met him there with her flat palm, if she focussed enough she could almost feel him.

A phone pinging jolted her from the moment.

‘’I got to get going the cars here, I hope you’re right I look the part, can’t bloody see for myself,’’ she laughed standing up, red skirts swishing.

‘’You want me to go?’’

‘’Never.’’ She blew a kiss to the mirror and walked out the door.

[askmyboys]

Circus Mafia

Here’s my latest characters that I am EXTREMELY proud of, god tho it was h e l l trying to finish making them bc i forgot like,, two of them in the process and had to go back- Uhh I guess bc it’s a mafia there’s mentions of death/violence but that’s about it!

I’ll put a keep reading on it just bc its kinda a lengthy post so yeye

| Names: Wallace Gallagher, Chester York, Dewey Bullock, Eric Fletcher, Grant Davenport, and Henry Barton

| Nicknames/Titles: Wally/Gear (The Ringmaster), He hates it but Yorky is a nickname (The Magician), Dew/Dewdrop (The Juggler), Eri/Fletch (The Acrobat), Dave (The Tightrope Walker/The Trapeze Artist), and finally Hen/Bart (The Clown/The Strongman)

| Genders: Wallace goes by He/It, Chester goes by He/Him, Dewey goes by all pronouns, Eric goes by He/They, Grant goes by He/They/It, and Henry also just goes by He/Him

| Ages: Unknown (I am NOT doing all the math that’d probs be involved with these dudes fuck that)

| Heights: Wallace is 6’7”, Chester is 5’9”, Dewey is 5’6”, Eric is 5’3”. Grant is 6ft, and finally Henry is 5’8”

| Hair Colors: Wallace has long stringy hair he usually keeps in a ponytail (his hair is a bubblegum pink color), Chester’s hair is a Cobalt Blue color (his hair is usually in a man bun), Dewey’s hair is a Tiger Orange color (his hair is a curly undercut), Eric’s hair is Black and it’s a short quiff, Grant’s hair is a Dark Brown and slicked back, and finally Henry’s hair is a Tortilla Brown color (His hairstyle is a Pushed Back Long one)

| Eye Colors: Wallace’s eyes are a light pastel pink color (he’s got a slash over his right eye but he seems to still be able to see out of it), Chester’s eyes are a Gunmetal Blue color, Dewey’s eyes are a light pastel green, Eric’s eyes are a hazel color, Grant’s eyes are Dark Brown, and Henry’s eyes are a dull gray color.

| Skin Colors/Body Types: Wallace is tall and lanky as hell p much and he’s pretty pale, Chester’s kinda average p much and he’s more so tan, same goes for Grant actually except he looks a bit more muscular than Chester does, Dewey and Eric are kinda pale as well (Eric being a bit more paler than Dewey) and both of them are chubby, and finally Henry who looks a bit stronger than even Grant (nothing TOO weird ofc) is also pale.

| Appearances: Oh god here we go… Wallace is first up- He’s got the typical Ringmaster outfit EXCEPT his is Pink and White instead of the typical red/black/white you see, even down to his boots are pink (his boots btw kinda go up his legs and they have a heeled part on em), he wears pink leather gloves and has a pink top hat as well! He also has a handlebar mustache (he dyed it to match his hair, got a bit of Wilford Energy dont he? Lmao) he also has a lot of scars on his body (Their most prominent scars are: Wallace’s is over his eye and a bullet wound that got WAY too close to his heart, Chester’s scarring is around his neck, his chest and ESPECIALLY his back area, the neck looks like a few cuts but nothing deep enough to be fatal, the chest has some deeper scarring and longer ones, and his back looked like it was caused by a whip

Dewey’s scars are a bit all over the place nothing prominent there, Eric’s scars are the same just sporadic and all over the place but he has a few similar markings to Chester’s on his back (not AS many tho), Grant doesn’t have as many scars surprisingly just a few here and there but they don’t look too serious, and finally Henry has prominent scars over his belly, his back, and his legs they look like a mixture of potentially fatal had they not been looked at and non-fatal)

Chester’s outfit is a white suit vest that has dark blue stripes going down it, he wears a dark blue collared shirt underneath the suit vest and he also has a long black cloak (it has a hood on it but he only puts it on in certain situations), he has dark blue pants that match and he seems to wear combat boots that match said outfit, he also has some silk gloves that match as well, he wears a blue quartz crystal around his neck and he has a circle beard, he also has dark blue claw nails that also has little star designs over them. (he also has a dark blue bow tie!)

Dewey’s outfit is a mint green suit vest with a white collared shirt underneath it, he also has a mint green bow tie and he wears white pants as well and some sneakers with mint green stripes going across them, he wears mint green rose earrings (it was a gift that Chester gave to Eric so the boy could give it to Dewey) and he’s cherished them ever since, he also wears gloves to match (it helps him out when juggling bc ouchie hard items hurt when they smack directly onto his bare hands) he doesn’t have a beard at all he babyfaced.

Eric’s outfit is white collared shirt with dark brown suspenders that are attached to the same colored pants, he also wears a dark brown flat cap (when he’s not performing or doing his job n such) he also has a dark brown bow tie he wears as well and his he wears dark brown sneakers as well he’s also babyfaced like Dewey is, he has a dark brown necklace with the same colored pendant on the end, it isn’t heart shaped but its round and definitely looks like a locket of some kind (he never wears it during performances in fear it’d get lost but he keeps it locked up in a secret box in his room, it was a gift from Dewey)

Grant’s outfit is a black suit jacket with a red collared shirt underneath it, he also has black pants to match said outfit and he has black and red oxford shoes and he also wears a black fedora (he looks more like the leader than Wally does tbh, then again him, Chester, and Henry ALWAYS get mistaken for the boss) he also has a long black tie he wears with the outfit btw! He has a Van Dyke type beard he also wears some rings on his fingers too hence why he looks SO much like the boss.

And finally… Henry’s outfit is well, it took a LOT of convincing but he actually wears a rainbow themed clown outfit, it's MUCH softer lighter colors (p much pastels) At first he 100% hated it but then every time an enemy came around… They laughed at him and ALWAYS underestimated him, it was always hilarious to kick their ass in said outfit, Wallace also told him just imagine his enemies having to explain to someone/their boss that they got their ass kicked by the clown! The CLOWN of all people! And Henry won’t deny, that idea grew on him so he eventually accepted it (the only thing he refused to wear really was the wig that was t o o much) and finally he has a short boxed beard!

| Personalities: Wallace is… EXTREMELY eccentric and unpredictable, there’s no true way to tell how he’s feeling or what mood he’s going to be in, he seems to bounce from mood to mood, feeling to feeling, emotion to emotion! Although it’s VERY rare to see him actually upset or angry (...Keep in mind, I said very rare, but it’s not… an IMPOSSIBLE scenario) he’s usually pretty cheerful, friendly, kind, and caring as can be! He’s a friend to those who won’t backstab him or betray him but a terrifying force to be reckoned with if you double cross him… He’s in a silly goofy mood a lot, but really, if I’m being honest, there definitely seems like there’s something… Unhinged there… Like something is not all together with him, but oh well! No time to unpack anything! If you need a helping hand he’s there to help! Just don’t double cross him and you won’t die! Don’t let his friendly and cute demeanor fool you, if he doesn’t send one of the others after you, then he’ll deal with you himself and honestly? He’s the WORST one to come after you… MUCH worse than the others.

Chester is cocky, confident, and arrogant at times- He’s EXTREMELY prideful in himself and k n o w s he’s all that and MUCH more~ He seems like he only cares for himself and thinks he’s the star and center of everything but oh no… He holds great admiration and respect for Wallace, he adores Dewey and Eric and helps them out a lot, he’s even overprotective of them actually- you mess with them you evoke papa bear and he WILL stomp you to death with his boots- He constantly pesters Grant and Henry, teasing them a LOT here and there, he makes it a game to mess with them as much as he can, heck he loves messing with his actual victims too, he loves to play the mind games and he’s much more sadistic and cruel than you see him with the other members of the circus, if it’s like someone who’s made friends with the others? ...Well he’ll be more tolerable but oh that won’t stop him from scaring them a little here and there but he won’t actually hurt them, it’s more so just him having fun.

Dewey is a sweet, kind, and loving soul- he looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly! But looks can always be deceiving you know… If he ABSOLUTELY needs to he will hurt or kill someone, if he’s ordered too he will do so- He’s actually mostly shy and anxious even around the other members of the circus but he trusts them a LOT more than anyone else, and he looks up to Wallace and Eric, speaking of Eric, he likes Eric a HELLA lot- he trusts them the MOST out of everyone here and you’ll find Dewey spends a lot more time with Eric than anyone else and he seems so much more open with the other, seems like he lets loose a lot more… And another thing to note, toward enemies he doesn’t torment or anything he just injures or kills them as quickly as possible so he’s a LOT more merciful than someone like Wallace or Chester or some of the others would be.

Eric is another sweet, kind, and loving soul- Also looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly but he can and would if he was told too- He doesn’t LIKE hurting or killing folks though at all, he considers himself much more cowardly than Dewey since Dewey seems like he can do it without any issues beforehand… Eric looks up to Dew a LOT just like the other looks up to him, Eric also looks up to Grant a lot as well even though he can be pretty intimidating to approach, he’s got a LOT more anxiety than Dewey seems to have and he doesn’t seem to have a lot of confidence in himself, he thinks he’s cowardly and sometimes it feels like he legit doesn’t even fit in here, why is such a coward like him in with a literal mafia?

He can barely kill/hurt anyone without almost breaking down p much (Wallace kinda knows this so he REALLY tries not to call upon Eric too much, not until they can sort out those issues, or well t r y too anyways)

Grant is hella cold, snarky, and honestly hot headed easily the MOST intimidating looking and speaking one outta the bunch, he hardly ever has a smile on his face and he’s mostly grumpy- hims a n g y lmao, he’s WAY more respectful when around Wallace however seeing as he’s the boss ...Grant is a bit jealous honestly and sometimes he maybe even wishes he could be leader but 1: He k n o w s better and 2: That’d make him extremely ungrateful for all Wally’s done for the others, Grant is surprisingly MUCH more warmer n kinder toward Eric, or well he tries to be but gosh that poor boy just seems so intimidated by him… He feels bad for Eric honestly, wishes the boy had a bit more confidence in himself, Grant tries to help him out but any time he approaches Eric the other seems to get pretty afraid, so he tries to be patient and wait for Eric to come to him, he respects Dewey for helping Eric out and he sees how happy the two are when together, it's a good thing… If anyone could help that boy out, it’s gotta be Dewey.

And finally… Henry, he’s pretty sarcastic, a bit cold and a bit hot headed, not, AS MUCH as Grant but still it does lead them into a lot of physical and verbal altercations with each other even then (They try not to do it around Dewey/Eric solely bc they dont wanna scare em, but also not around Wallace bc they really don’t wanna get in trouble or on his bad side…) Henry along with Grant do share solidarity with one thing! And that is their p u r e hatred for Chester! That’s one thing they have in common at least… He’s WAY more hot headed toward Chester but dear god who isn’t at this point? Toward enemies n such it’s like he’s a completely different man, he takes his jobs/tasks VERY seriously and he’s WAY more calm and collected- more so than Grant could ever be (I’ll just go ahead ALL the boys respect and or look up to Wallace in some way, he practically saved them tbh) I suppose another thing Henry shares in common with Grant and probs everyone at this point is he wishes Eric had more confidence in himself…

| Side Facts: Usually, whether it be by an injured one or even the dead bodies, an item is usually left behind as a warning- For Wallace it’s a bunch of lashings from his bullwhip (I wanna clarify, the ones with lash looking scars, Wallace would NEVER EVER hit them, he’d NEVER fucking hurt any of them which is why if one of the ones with similar scars are around, before he even d a r e s pull out the whip, he tells them to go on back to the tent, he doesn’t want them to see or hear that sound)

Chester MOSTLY leaves red roses behind (since that’s what people throw onto his stage when he’s finished performing), but he’ll leave VARIOUS other kinds of flowers as well (you’ll notice he’s very particular with each flower he leaves behind)

Dewey leaves behind whatever item he had been juggling (for example: a bowling pin, orange, balls, etc)

Even tho Eric isn’t called upon too often for his sake, he actually doesn’t leave anything behind.

Grant leaves nothing behind whatsoever, what he did to the victim alone is WARNING enough.

Henry leaves behind clown noses (he literally puts clown noses on the victims) and if he’s feeling generous enough he leaves some sarcastic little messages behind or just straight up taunting ones.

While they ARE a mafia, like I’ve said the circus part also plays a big role! They DO perform! Their circus moves from place to place, it never does stay in one spot and a BIG thing Wallace wants noted- they don’t include animals in their acts, they’d never put any kind of animal through that sorta stress and are HIGHKEY against Circuses that do use animals bc most times the animals are whipped and abused, so Wallace says none of that here!

They have had some rowdy rude customers like all businesses or events do ...But you know… They aren’t like most either, those customers were mm… I’d say when Wallace offered to have their complaint taken up, let’s just say those so called customers were never seen or heard from again (keep in mind, those weren’t valid complaints, it was basically karen type people so oofy)

Chester has once lured a victim backstage and he has a house of mirrors type situation, he once lured them back and slowly watched them struggle to try and get out of there, sometimes appearing on the mirrors to give them a fright, he’s probably driven some people to insanity with this tbh also, Chester made Wallace a necklace with an Obsidian pendant, Wallace cherishes this and thanks to Chester he knows the crystal symbolizes protection n stuff so that made him cherish it even more.

Their Circus, the tent, etc- I’ll be 100% honest with you, the fucking tent itself is pretty inhuman and fuckin unrealistic, like- SO many fucking things fit under that tent- its almost cartoonish how it works! The tent itself holds literally all their respective areas, from Chester’s stage right down to the area where the trapeze and tightrope acts are performed!

One thing I didn’t mention- Wallace seems to have two sets of fangs (I will say, he’s- he’s not a toon btw I mean, I won’t say if Wally is fully human or not but still) both top and bottom, Chester has cat-like fangs, Dewey/Eric don’t have fangs at all, Grant has some razor sharp teeth, and Henry just has normal lookin’ teeth.

One more thing! I already covered their pronouns up there so here’s their sexualities! Wallace is Pansexual, Chester is Bisexual, Dewey is Panromantic and Asexual, Eric is Gay and Asexual, Grant is more so Questioning rn as is Henry.

[hansoulo]

The Girl Part 6

Pairings - The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/OFC

Warnings - light cursing, mentions of forced prostitution

Word Count - 944 words

Tag List - @baar-ur @bruithel @jarrendyn@maryan028@aethersghoulette@hellobinayxo @guineapigzwei @random922929 @iamwarrenspeace @deputy-videogamer @littleevilme03  @ah-callie @sunkissed-winter @ash-fan-things @claynarwale @spottedlekkudancer @sabi615 @waddles03 @greatfandomsgalore @missnightingale97 @ababysupernova @delectablyvaliantmentality @backontheolebullshit @a-hopeless-fan​ @crushingonmando​

(A/N: y'all i KNOW i said part 6 would be up in a few days but then i got excited)

(Y/N) could feel a light tugging at her collar, and woke in her cot to the Mandalorian standing above her in the darkness of the ship. That was strange. She could have sworn she fell asleep in the cockpit. Which meant that he must've —

“Where did you get this?” he demanded, his voice low. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was poured down her back when she realized he was holding her necklace in his hand.

She sat up in the cot and he let go of the ornament, leaving it to fall against her chest.

“I can explain I -” (Y/N) stammered, cowering slightly beneath the cold stare of his visor.

“Who are you?” he demanded again, stepping even closer so she was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze. She wrenched her eyes away and drew her knees to her chest before she muttered, “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you think.”

“Then what -”

(Y/N) looked back at him again, her expression colder.

“It was my father’s,” she answered.

He stepped back and she wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in the tops of her thighs. (Y/N) had tried so hard to forget. To move on. She hardly even noticed the feeling of the necklace against her skin anymore, a cold reminder of the past that had been taken from her. But here she was, sitting in front of another Mandalorian, trying not to look as broken as she felt. When he didn’t say anything, she sniffed and met his eyes.

“So, do you want the long version or the short version?” she asked with a watery sigh. He shook his head and sat down on a nearby weapons crate, holding his head in his hands.

“(Y/N) you don’t have to. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” she assured him.

(Y/N) unclasped the necklace and held it in her palm, smoothing her thumb over the metal in an attempt to calm herself.

Resting her chin on her knees, she spoke up again, quiet.

“He was a native of Mandalore. Left the Creed before I was born. Never told me why.”

Though (Y/N) couldn’t see his face, she imagined he was surprised. From what she knew, which wasn’t much, leaving the Creed was almost unheard of. When he didn’t speak, she continued.

“I was raised on Naboo and my father worked as a guard for the palace. Never knew my mother. He didn’t talk about her. I grew up running wild in the servant’s halls,” (Y/N) remembered fondly.

“When I grew older, I was the apprentice of a medic. Didn’t much care for sick people, though. I preferred working with the infants,” she dropped the necklace on the bedspread and looked at the Mandalorian again.

“The nursery,” he said quietly, recounting their first conversation on the ship. (Y/N) nodded softly and ran a hand through her hair, loosening her legs to set them down on the floor.

“I was happy. But when the war started, things were tense. My father sent me to visit friends on far-off planets for weeks at a time. Looking back, he knew what was coming. I think I did, too.”

Her vision was beginning to blur and her throat felt as if she had swallowed the sigil that lay next to her, making her voice choke.

“When I came back from a trip, I found him rotting on our doorstep with a blaster wound in his head. The only reason I knew it was him was because this,” she pointed towards the necklace, “Was still around his neck.”

“(Y/N) I-” the Mandalorian began. She shook her head and he grew quiet, letting her continue.

“I asked around, but no one would talk. It was probably Imperials, finishing off the Purge. After that, I had nothing keeping me on Naboo. I grew reckless, eventually joined the Rebels as a medic. For the cause, y'know,” she sniffed again and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, laughing without humor.

“It’s all bullshit,” (Y/N) said with a shake of her head, “Republic or Empire, doesn’t change the fact that my father was murdered.” She grew quiet again, and her eyes began to glaze over.

“So how did you end up –”

“As a slave in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?” she finished for him, voice with a sharp edge the Mandalorian had never heard her use. He didn’t know what else to do but nod.

“Life is a funny thing,” she mused, dropping her head.

“I was with rebel troops on Bespin, and I suppose someone tipped off the Imperials. Before I could even blink, they’d killed every soldier and cuffed the medics. They should’ve killed us, too, but they sold us to some passing traders. Pocket money, I suppose.”

(Y/N) didn’t seem bitter. Just resigned.

When she spoke again, her voice was steadier, though still shaky.

“I changed hands a couple of times. Escaped a few times, but I always got caught. Made a few rounds in forced brothels before they realized I was damaged goods.”

(Y/N) looked at the Mandalorian and tried to imagine what he looked like underneath his helmet. Was he disappointed? Did he pity her? She shook her head slightly at the thought and continued, her voice soft, “I was sold to that mechanic, Sorkin. Mostly I just helped to fix what his hands couldn’t reach.”

“And then you met me,” the Mandalorian finished for her, elbows resting on his knees as he sat and looked at her. She turned her head and picked up the necklace, studying the carved Krybes pendant.

“And then I met you,” she said with a gentle smile.

[boogiewrites]

Reports and Repertoire Pt. 2

Characters: Eddie Brock x Candace Miller (OFC)

Word Count:  7800+

Summary: Eddie and Candace meet face to face. Agreeing to work together, they find themselves falling into an easy back and forth with each other given their similarities in morals and interests. This chapter follows the beginning stages of their relationship, figuring each other out and working together. A clear chemistry builds between them, and neither put very much thought into where it will go. Not yet anyway.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Fluffy, getting to know you.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist.

It's only a few minutes until her office hours are over. Candace is in the ladies bathroom with the best lighting, touching up her hair and makeup before catching an uber to a part of town she's familiar with. She volunteered at a homeless shelter in the area, a particular cause she'd felt drawn to once she moved to San Francisco. She'd taken people to eat on more than a few occasions, some frequenters of the shelter becoming friends, some acting as extra eyes and ears for her in the city.

What she'd been working on, and what she would be sharing with Eddie in about an hour was about these people. She straightens her white v-neck t-shirt over her fitted jeans. Boots to guard against the off and on all day rain are now resting under rolled-up hems of her pants, the slightly heeled black faux-suede looking a bit more put together this way. Digging through her purse she finds some lipstick and a necklace that she adds to the outfit. Her medium brown hair is in loose waves, luckily it was cooperating with the weather today and not frizzing completely. Her hip length, lightweight army green jacket with its many pockets and hood rests on the dark speckled bathroom sink counter as she tries to spruce herself up a bit. She didn't look fancy, but this didn't call for that. She looked...yeah she looked normal she concluded with an approving nod, letting her arms fall heavy to her sides as she rolls her eyes with getting caught up on how she looks. 'But you know he'll look good.' her inner voice says as she raises her eyebrows to herself in the mirror as to scold the thought. She looked good, she looked like she was grabbing some casual meal with a friend, and except for the friend part, which she hoped would change eventually, she was hitting the mark for what was needed.

She adjusts the grey faux leather crossbody bag on her shoulder as she stands fifteen minutes early in front of the pizza place. Her finger picks at the large press button on the front flap on her bag before she pulls her phone out of her pocket. She watches the mixed bag of locals, being too far inland for tourists in this part of town. There was a breeze as usual, the rain had cleared for now, the cracked concrete still damp.

"I'm here. I don't think he'll try to murder me so...just letting you know." she sends to Steph.

"If you go missing I'll know who to blame. Have fun. ;) " Candace smirks rolls her eyes, putting her phone back into her pocket. After growing tired of standing in the constant flow of people on the street, she decides to go in and get a table outside before the rush comes. If she waited too long, they'd be stuck inside where it was too hot and loud, she could watch for him from the covered patio.

Getting a small two-seater table on the edge of the awning she scrolls through her phone to recall details of what she'd been working on. The white noise of the city is disrupted by the rumbling of a motorcycle coming to a stop down the street. Her fingers that had been absentmindedly tapping her chin pause as she watches the man remove his helmet, revealing a handsome, familiar face. She figures if she's going to oogle, now would be the time to as she takes in the tightness in the thighs of his dark jeans, the neutral colored sneakers that complimented a dark t-shirt underneath a black leather moto jacket.

He ruffled the longer hair at the top of his head as he puts the helmet in the saddle bag of the bike. He adjusts the collar of the jacket, giving it a fluff before thumbing his nose and with a distinctly masculine, shoulder swaying saunter, he crosses the street. As he gets closer she puts her phone face down on the glass table top, instead of its usual place of the pocket of her coat that hung over the back of the chair, as it would be needed it to show him photos and give him names and addresses. He looks a little tired, a little shabby, but it still works with the whole vibe after coming in on a motorcycle. He looked more like a bad boy with a devil may care attitude than the journalist she'd watched that passionately defended the rights of others. As soon as his feet hit the curb her body reacts and stands and he looks around, it only takes him a moment to recognize her from her pictures and he's thankful she seems just as personable and dare he think even prettier in person. He gives a head tilt and a questions glance of 'that you?' much like a puppy, a pointed finger accompanying the expression.

Her appearance puts him at ease, he'd worried about a t-shirt and jeans coming off as this not being important to him but when he saw the same combination on her, although wearing it in a much more flattering, feminine way, he hides his exhale of relief as he approaches. With his hands still in his pockets, he nods and mutters 'excuse me' to people on the street as he's beckoned by her wave to him. His manners do not go unnoticed by Candace's watchful eye.

So she stands, two feet away from Eddie Brock. Inside her, a part of her was squealing with delight. He was just as attractive as he looked on the screen, well, actually more so once he opened his mouth. Instead of the more articulate and annunciated, projected masculine tone, she was used to hearing from him, his voice was quiet and raspy, a twitch of his lip and a slight stutter shows his uncertainty as he says her name.

"Hey, uh-Candace. Hi." he says with a nod of his head.

Her hand extends to meet his, a slight squeeze to test the waters between the two of them, she notices he wears rings, notes the typical finger an engagement ring would be on to be bare and she wonders how she never noticed the jewelry before on camera.

"Hey Eddie," she says in a sweet, smooth voice. Her voice was softer in person, a small hint of a smile stayed on her face as their hands shook before she motions to the chair across the table from her. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."

"Nah, don't mention it. Thank you for meeting me. You're the one helpin' me out." he says with a half smile and a much heavier New York accent.

"You've exposed serial killers and I write pieces on local bakeries trying to make the world's biggest cookie I think I'm the one indebted to you." she says with a full smile, a chuckle that shakes her shoulders slightly, the long silver necklace with a tiny looking glass pendant shakes and shifts over her chest.

"Ehh." he says dismissively in a dragging way. Before he can compliment her work, both trying to feel each other out. the waiter brings the menus. "Oh, thank you." he says in a genuine way, making eye contact and nodding in acknowledgment to the woman. He'd passed the first test, being nice to the staff. Look's like Eddie Brock acting like a dick wouldn't be a problem she'd have to navigate.

"You wanna split a pizza?" she asks casually, eyes on the menu.

"Yeah, sure." he shrugs, his head nodding in a show of cooperation.

"The Margherita is good. Classic. Can't really go wrong with it." her finger taps the menu and she purses her lips.

"Sounds good." he says, looking back up at her, watching her face.

"But the real question I suppose is where do you stand on pineapple on pizza?" she subdues a smile as he realizes she's making comedic banter to clear the air.

"Oh, I don't care either way. Pineapple's good, pizza's good, who cares?" he says with a purse of his lips.

"A lot of people. Surprisingly." she shuts the menu and he sees her shoulders relax. "Perhaps we should do a report on the oppression of fruit on pizza. Get to the bottom of that conspiracy." her brows are high and her face is warm and friendly and it eases any jitters that were left.

"Gotta be careful. Who knows which fruit is behind the takedown of pineapple. Don't wanna end up messin' with "big cherry" or somethin', they're nasty people." he grins and they both share a laugh.

With the tension broken they both fall into an easy back and forth. After ordering they cover the basics, talk about beer, about the city and each other. As the steaming pizza is placed on the pedestal in the middle of the table, he decides to start to talk shop after as they mumble with mouthfuls about how they made a good decision.

"So I've noticed you have a lot of pieces about the homeless population in the city." he says as she finishes taking an indulgent bite of gooey cheese.

A muffled "Mmm Hmm." before she swallows and nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, I volunteer at a shelter a few blocks down." she motions behind her with her thumb out. "When I first moved here I had nothing, and I mean, here it's just a few bad decisions and you'll find yourself homeless at any given time," she says with a slight frown. "But I know you've done lots of coverage too. So you're familiar with how the causes of being out on the street. From simple bad decisions, things totally out of their control, to more complex problems like mental health or the young LGBT community, veterans with PTSD that our system has failed." she pauses for a moment and sighs. "I mean I've met every sort of person working at that shelter. And none of them bad." she shows a sad smile that says a lot on it's own. He gives a small upturning of one side of his mouth in support of the notion. Her face is more serious now, she meets his eyes and he sees that spark that caught his attention in the first place. "I know I can't fix everything. But people are all people have." she bites her lip for a moment, looking down. "So I figured I would try to focus my efforts and I was drawn to this one specifically." her voice is quieter, he leans forward to hear her better in the bustle of the restaurant and street. "I figure starting with trying to give people the basic things they need to survive is a good start. Shelter, food, clothing, care. A little bit of kindness can go a long way. Especially to someone who isn't used to receiving it."

"Yeah it's...it's very important to know where your passion lies. And y'know, I can tell you're passionate about this, it's a big reason I wanted to work with you." he admits.

"Thanks," she says with a sincere huff of breath. "What's your passion then? What've you been working on?" she asks innocently enough.

Oh shit, here we go, he thinks. Here's where he tells her the truth and she leaves and he's back to square one. "Uh well, nothing as of late." he admits his nose wrinkles slightly as she tilts her head, showing the confusion on her face.

"I noticed you hadn't been uploading anything but, I thought you might've been working on something big." her brow is heavier, wanting to know more without being rude.

He lets out a sigh and licks his lips, leaning forward on the table on his elbows. "I'll be honest with you Candace." he begins, finding holding her gaze easier than he expected. "I made an enemy out of a very powerful man by asking the wrong things in an interview trying to get to the truth." his voice is more steady, a little deeper and self-assured than it had been earlier in the night. "I went for it and he blacklisted me a few months back." he says with a slow nod, lips tucked into his mouth.

"Oh." she says with wide batting eyes. So THAT'S why he'd reached out to her. It was starting to make sense now. “Can I ask who?” she adds softly. 

It was a perfectly logical follow-up question. "Carlton Drake." he says with a frown.

"Oh shit," she whispers, her chin pushing into her chest. "That's...yeah I bet that guy has a lot of secrets." she says looking away, he could see the wheels turning in her head.

"I get it if you don't wanna work with me now, Candace I do-" he begins with slumped shoulders.

"No!" she insists, her brow heavy and a shake of her head. Her hand reaches out unexpectedly and rests on top of his. The sudden touch makes his face turns towards their hands a little too quickly to go unnoticed. "No that's...that's not fair," she says quietly. "What kind of asshole would I be if I'm preaching kindness one breath and then turning you away the next?" with one brow raised she retreats her hand. "I mean that's...that's heavy man. Not going to lie. But, I get it." her voice is slow and low, thoughtful and far nicer than he ever expected. "It's hard to know where to draw the line when trying to expose something that doesn't want to be exposed. Especially when it's covered by a man with a far reach and deep pockets like Drake." she shrugs, giving a closed mouth, sympathetic smile.

"Yeah. It was." he says with a slight snarl of his lip and a flash of sadness in his eyes.

"Even if we can get what we'd need to make an expose' and get a station to buy it, it's not gonna be the sort of money you're used to. I'm afraid I don't have anything that would bring that much attention."

"Those sorts of stories are really rare, I wasn't expectin' nothin' like that." he shakes his head. "I just miss the work. Y'know?" his nose wrinkles slightly in earnest.

"Yeah, I'd feel lost if I suddenly couldn't work anymore. But then again my eyes and ears are mostly homeless people so...not a high chance of that happening. Guess that's smart looking out on my behalf." she gives him a supportive smile.

"Not the most credible witnesses in some people eye's but, you're right about that. You seem to utilize your resources that you have really well."

"Having you help me will make it more credible I think, blacklisted or not. You can't have sources, video evidence, and eyewitnesses and be ignored by everyone forever."

"You already have those things?" his voice inflects upwards, sounding impressed.

"No." she frowns for a moment. "But I do know how we can get them." her smiles turns sly and it's infectious. "Here," she says, picking up her phone, scooting her chair closer to him and he meets her halfway. They sit arm to arm as she flips through her phone. "I've got a bunch of notes I can send you. Some audio recordings from witnesses and victims too. I'll send you these address and names..." she continues her thumb moving fast. "Apparently the police have been targeting certain homeless camps. They'll go in, push people around and make them fight to not get taken to jail over bullshit charges."

He nods as his eyes move over her picture of a map with doodled on circles and notes of locations and dates. "These are instances?"

"Yeah. I have all the names of the people I've talked to, of course, all but a few come to the shelter, so most aren't hard to find and they're more than willing to talk to someone who will listen. The problem is getting it on video. I need structured, on-camera interviews. I need written and signed witness statements and those people preferably need to be able to appear in court or at least appear reliable in some way if this does go to a legal level. I need to get it on video, pictures too of course but nothing is going to sell this like video will. And being in the right place on the right night is really tricky as I've found no real pattern between where they go and when."

"You've been working on this awhile haven't you?" he says with an impressed tone, seeing the dates go back for months.

"Yeah. Those that can remember, I have the dates of arrest and the charges they were filed with...have their mug shots saved from the booking website to document injuries, which there certainly are." she moves her face to look to his not even a foot away. "My personal problem is it's not safe for me to go to these camps alone at night. I've wanted to go deeper on this for a while now but I have to be smart about it. I won't be of use to anyone if I'm in jail or in a hospital." she explains with a pouty frown.

"You're definitely right about that." he nods, wishing he had her sense of patience and self-preservation.

"That's where I thought you might come in." she smiles sheepishly. "I thought maybe if we both went...maybe we would be okay."

"Man...it's been so long since I've done work like this." he almost whispers, face showing his consideration.

"I mean, I get it if you don't want to, it's dangerous so I'd understand if you didn't want to do it."

"Oh, no Candance, I definitely want to. Didn't mean to come off like I was gonna say no."

"Oh thank God." she exhales with a laugh. "I don't have anyone else to help me with this. We can go to the shelter and I can introduce you so they'll know who you are. That way there won't be any confusion. We'll take all the precautions we can. But getting video of a cop not only isolating them but threatening them AND making them fight then taking them in..." she shakes her head with a tired look on her face. "That's gonna take a lot of nights out there, and it'll just get more dangerous each time if the cops get wind of what we're doing."

"You're not wrong there." the same supportive nod. "But the reward would be worth the risk." he says with a gravelly tone and shrug. "I mean, this is a direct, unprovoked attack on at-risk people. Doesn't get much lower than that."

"It's been bothering me, honestly. I try to compartmentalize this sort of work but it's hard when you get to know these people."

"Yeah." his voice soft and higher pitched. "I understand that too well."

"I was really hoping you would." he notices how breathy her voice sounds so close. She sounded so genuinely relieved that he would help her, when she's the one helping him in his opinion. He gets caught up in that fire in her eyes again, seeing now the yellow flecks that exist in the pools of brown.

The waitress interrupts with the check and they both snap upright.

"What's your email? I'll send you all this and the rest tonight." she says, thumbs already moving.

"Oh, it's easy just eddiebrock at Gmail." he shakes his head dismissively.

"Keep it simple. I like it." she smiles and nods, noting it anyway. She moves and reaches for her wallet as he's already reached for his. "Nope. Put it away Eddie, I invited you out, I got it." she insists.

"You not even gonna let me pay for my own?" he asks with a high pitched boyish laugh.

"Nope. We could've met somewhere without food and I brought you out here and I'm not gonna have you spend money just because I was hungry." she says with a shake of her head, standing and placing the small booklet back on the table.

"Well maybe I was hungry too." he says playfully.

"Either way, I'm really grateful for the help so stop fighting me. You won't win." she grins and an almost goofy smile comes across his face.

"Whatever you say." he says with a firm nod and a charming smile.

They both stand at the curb, the sun having set, the neon lights from building signs now playing across the still wet splotches on the asphalt and making the oil rainbows shine across the road.

"Hey," he says to get her attention, one hand in his pocket, the other motioning towards his bike. "If you won't let me buy my own dinner, how about I save you the cost of a ride and I can take you home?" his voice was chivalrous and not suggestive.

He sees her considering it, thumb hovering over the lit up screen, lip twitching as she looked over to the bike. "I don't want you to have to go too far out of your way or anything." she says with a shake of her head.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's the least I can do. Where do you live?"

"In the mission district." she says softly, noticing the scruff of his face as his hand rubbed his chin.

"That's in the middle of everything, what're you talkin' about out the way?" he says with a charming laugh that moves his chest. He notices the smile grow from a twitch at the corner of her mouth to a full smile up to her eyes. "Unless you know..." he smirks, "You're afraid of the bike or somethin'." he says hunching his shoulders towards her, the mischievousness in his eyes to tease her make her scoff at him, her head tilting to the side and her mouth open as if she were offended.

She blinks slowly a few times, he can't tell what she's thinking as her eyes narrow, but with a tilt of her head she answers, "Did you really just call me a chicken?" she asks with laughter in her voice "That's some grade school bullshit Brock." she says, no actual anger in her face. She makes a point to show her defiantly putting her phone in her pocket, she zips her jacket up dramatically. "And if you think I'm gonna fall for that..." she says with attitude, her head moving back and forth. "You'd be right." she says with a straight face before a smile that reaches her eyes comes across her face. "You got an extra helmet?" she asks with a quirked brow.

"Just so happens I do." he grins proudly at the fact his mischief paid off. His cheeks high and making his eyes smaller in his first showing of genuine excitement in months. "So that's a yes?" he leans in and tilts his head playfully.

"Yes, that's a yes you big bully." she rolls her eyes and laughs.

"C'mon ya bad ass." he says with a gritty laugh, walking across the street with her. "Let's get ya home Candace." he says with a sharp jerk of his head in the direction of the motorcycle.

She likes how he says he her name, like his accent makes it sound more fun or something. She glances over his face, noting how good he looks in the low light of the street lamps as he puts the helmet on her and straps it under her chin.

"There now, that isn't gonna go nowhere." he says, patting the top of the helmet. She then gets the treat of watching him throw his leg over the bike, jeans strained in all the right places as she holds back a gulp. She follows his lead before he has to ask, she knew how this worked. She just wasn't sure how she was going to handle being pressed up against him with her arms around him for the entire ride. She wasn't scared, he hadn't flown in on the bike like a bat out of hell or anything, but she'd be lying if she hadn't thought this was some girlish fantasy come to fruition for her.

He looks at his phone to remember the address before he starts the bike, she notices he saves it into her contact information. She supposes he would have to come to her place eventually, she wonders if she'll ever get to go to his.

"Alright. Grab tight, we're all friends here." she can feel his laugh as she wraps her arms around his waist, feeling small against the broad expanse of his shoulders. He shields her completely from the biting wind except for her hands, but the warmth from his skin coming from under his shirt was distracting enough to make her not notice.

So she closes out the night with her arms around Eddie Brock and a promise to see each other again. And not just once, but many times, for many hours at a time. It was the most eventful Friday she'd had in what was probably years. But then again, she wasn't much one for things like clubs and going out all night. Her best Fridays were spent with someone she liked, food and a good movie, a video game or a book. She'd had everything but the latter, and she expects she'll be curling up with one after she gets home. She tries to remember everything she can, because when she tells Steph that she rode bitch on Eddie Brock's bike with him taking her home she was going to be the one demanding details for once. ------------------- The next time Eddie and Candace see each other is four days later. But the next time they talk was that same night. Staying up late, her emailing all her work to him, and him eager and having nothing better to do with his time on a Friday, he sat up a workstation of sorts on his coffee table and got to reading.

He was impressed with how thorough she'd been. She had a storyboard of how she wanted the final video to look, she had the name, date and time down for every little note. He'd had people that had worked with him at the network that didn't have their shit together to this degree. He knew she'd be good, he'd seen her work, seen her editing and her delivery but getting into her notes was like getting to see how her mind worked and he found he liked what he found there.

It had been easy to feel less than enthusiastic at times when working for a network. It wasn't as heartfelt or passionate, there was less danger to it and it certainly hadn't made him as genuinely excited about doing something like this was. At the network, he'd been wrangled, censored and directed. But this time he was totally free. Of course, he would work within the frame that Candace wanted to, it was her baby after all, her idea in the first place. He hadn't thought he'd find himself so...what was that feeling he'd almost forgotten? Oh yeah, happy. He'd never been one to play second fiddle to anyone, in his work life he wanted to be aggressive and self-assured, but those traits didn't follow him in pretty much any other aspect of his life. It was nice to feel those things again after feeling like he'd been on an endless losing streak.

They stay up with each other on speaker for almost two hours, organizing, making plans, discussing options and open hours. Even though it was work it didn't feel like it. She seemed genuinely excited about working with him, and in turn that made him even more excited about working with her. When was the last time someone had been happy to see him? He stopped to think about as they ended their phone call. He recalls it had been about four months since Anne left him, and when it did end she certainly hadn't been happy to see him.

The biggest laughs they both experiences in the next few days come from their interactions with each other. She put down acronyms in her notes. They hung there unexplained and eventually Eddie snaps pictures of them sending her the photo with "???" in question. She explained her shorthand, and every now and then he would guess one right, her sending him a gif that would congratulate him. But most of the time he was clueless, and when he found himself stuck, he'd snap another pic and send it with some nonsensical words. Once they were comfortable, telling jokes to each other after feeling out each others sense of humor, the suggestions got more ridiculous and risque. They were the highlight of Candace's work hours. "BTA-RG" Bring The Atlas Right Gear, meaning the GPS didn't work well in that part of town and she needed to bring her gear bag for that bit of work. But when Eddie sent "Big Titties Are Really Great?" out of nowhere she snorted loudly and everyone in the office turned to look at her. She blushed just slightly, hunkering back down and explaining herself. She was more than happy to learn what a total dork he was turning out to be. ------ He sits at the counter at a small hole in the wall diner. He's halfway through a greasy burger when the slam of a heavy bag on the counter breaks his enjoyment. Luckily for him, the sight before him was something that he was enjoying even more than the burger.

It was Tuesday, and since her shift at the shelter on Saturday had been spent talking to people once again, she had more notes to discuss.

"Sorry I'm late." she sighs out, unbuttoning the top clasp of her dress shirt because she was feeling particularly stuffy in the suit she was wearing.

"Oh. Wow." he says with a funny little smile.

"What?" she says freezing, asking him with the move of her brow and her hesitant smile.

"You uh-" 'You look really nice.' is what came to mind but, he takes a detour at the last minute, chickening out. "You have a meeting or somethin'?" he asks, wiping his mouth with a thin napkin from the beaten up metal dispenser that matched the rest of the interior of the greasy spoon location.

"Ugh yeah," she says with a frown. "Had the owners of the paper come in today." she explains.

She turns to look at the pegboard menu on the wall for a moment and he takes in the sight before him. Her navy suit is well fitted, a white button up under it, a pair of heels peek out from the slightly flared bottoms of her pants. He did love it when an attractive person wore a suit well. He liked it even better when he was close to that person, who also happened to be very nice and smart, so that he could get a good look. He hears her order of a double stack burger, onion rings, and a milkshake. He liked that she'd never been light about eating around him, made him feel comfortable like if she wasn't hiding anything, he might not have to either. She had yet to make him feel like anything other than a friend.

"I ran copies of my notes, hope you don't mind going old school." she says with a pleasant smile, reaching into her bag.

"Nah." he says wiping his hands on his jeans and taking the stack from her. "Been a long time since I've got to sit back and have a nice, long threesome with a pen, a highlighter, and some notes." he smirks.

She laughs, something he's pleased to hear instead of reading 'lol' or 'haha' on a screen. "I'm like that with books. I know my tablet can hold a library's worth but there's just something about having that physically in your hands." she says with pouted lips in understanding. She takes a long drink from her milkshake. "Ah, I needed that." she slumps and takes another long drink. "Those meetings are such a pain in the ass. I feel like I deserve a good dirty meal as a reward." she sighs. "I wouldn't mind them if my boss didn't get so worked up over them. Like, just let me do my thing, I got my shit handled like I do every time. Just unclench your butthole and breathe." she rolls her eyes and he lets out a little chuckle.

"I would agree that you have your shit together." he nods supportively.

"Thank you. I do." she says in agreement, but not in an overly cocky way. "So much so it seems I will be taking over the online division for local events as well."

"Oh! Congrats on that." he says with a friendly smack to her arm.

"Thanks. But that also means I'll have less time to work on this. Unfortunately." her face shows genuine disappointment. "But I still wanna do it with you, we're still doing this. You're not gonna get out of it that easy." she leans in in a teasing way, raising her brows at him.

"I don't want out, don't gotta threaten a man, geez." he says playfully.

"Good." she says with a strong nod. "I might need you to do some interviews that I had planned on doing myself though. Would that be okay with you?" she asks before taking a huge bite of her burger, both hands around it, her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk and he found it incredibly endearing.

"No, no problem." he says, half smile still growing as he mirrors her and takes another bite of his.

"I'm down for Saturday again at the shelter. I let the ones I talked to," she points at the stack of papers on the counter. "...the ones in there, know about you and that you'd be working with me. Could you come Saturday afternoon and I'll introduce you, show you around?" she suggests before taking another bite.

"Consider me all yours on Saturday, Candace. I'm ready to get my hands dirty on this with you. Whatever you need help with, just let me know and I'll earn my share alright?" His warm tone and charming smile catch her off guard. She hadn't expected him to be so nice, so willing to roll up his sleeves with her, but she couldn't have been happier about it.

"Great." she says with a relaxing of her posture, elbows moving to the countertop. "We'll go check out some campsites, get a feel for them and the people there. I'll know quite a few, and the more that know both of us the better chance we'll have at them looking out for us when the time comes." she takes a noisy sip of her milkshake. "We can go around the surrounding areas, know the routes in case we have to make a run for it." she let's out a little huff of a laugh but she's serious.

"Sounds good. Been too long since I've had a good stakeout." he nods and grins. "How much area we talkin'?"

"In all Tenderloin's about fifty blocks. We won't be covering all of it but, if we wanna be thorough. And you know I do." she says with a big smile that he returns. "We're talkin' about twenty-five blocks I'm guessing." she nods thoughtfully. "So wear comfortable shoes." she chuckles.

"Well, uh...what about my bike? I can get us around a lot faster that way. I mean we'll have to do the perimeters on foot but it'd really cut down on the time in between."

"I don't have a car so that sounds good to me," she says with a shrug. Her response was casual but the thought of being snuggled up to him on that bike again made her feel like her light reaction was a lie. "We'll be walking a lot so you wanna plan on grabbing something afterward together? We seem to have similar tastes." she smiles, giving a nod to the burger in the red plastic basket in front of him.

The suggestion catches him off guard. It wasn't work, but it didn't feel like anything beyond that either. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be starving after all that anyway." he purses his full lips and slowly nods.

"Maybe this time you can pick the place? I've picked twice now, it's your turn."

"I don't...know nothin' in the area really." he says slowly like he was thinking while we was still speaking.

"Well, it doesn't have to be in Tenderloin. Where do you live? We can go somewhere you like instead." she says as if that was obvious.

He didn't know that he could take her somewhere farther away, he wasn't sure of the rules of hanging out after work together when all the usual lines of working with someone weren't there. There wasn't a hierarchy from working in an office, no handbook for relationships for two people out trying to enact their own forms of justice. "I live in Fillmore," he says looking out the window behind her. "Honestly Candace, I have a bar I go to and the rest is take out. Unless you want something from the Chen's corner store." she sees his smile seems to be covering something. Like he's embarrassed maybe, which she didn't understand exactly but she wasn't about to let him feel that way.

"Well does the bar have food?" she says in an interesting way.

He lowers his head and does his high pitched short laugh. "Nothing worth eating." he shakes his head.

"We have until Saturday to figure it out. No rush." she shrugs. "Although takeout might really hit the spot after all that work." she side-eyes him, eating her food but keeping an eye out for his reaction. He seems comforted by her words, he didn't need to be sheepish about these sorts of things with her she hoped he'd come to realize. "We could always get some beers, some Chinese or Thai or something and look over the footage we got. Carbo-load after all that walking." her face is forward, now chewing away at an onion ring.

"Yeah you're probably right about that." he wanted to ask where she intended on eating that take out exactly. But 'my place or yours' didn't exactly feel right. He needed an excuse to clean his apartment anyway, and if on Saturday she meant her place, at least he wouldn't be coming home to a depressing bachelor pad. --------------------- Saturday comes and it goes swimmingly. He was personable and gentle with the people she introduced him to. It seemed he was aware he could come off as a little intimidating physically. She couldn't help but notice the way he would get on the other person's level, his voice a soft and considerate and he didn't even laugh loudly so he didn't come off as abrasive. He did most of the talking after the initial introductions. She could tell he'd been researching and paying attention and she was impressed and grateful for the time and consideration he was putting into the work. He made eye contact and touched to connect with people when appropriate, he was good at communicating and she could see how he could get information out of someone if he wanted. A good looking guy like him with emotional intelligence and cleverness to back it up? She really couldn't have found a better partner to work with.

He seemed really knowledgeable about legal matters, able to explain things about prosecution and evidence and trials when people would ask what we wanted out of this work, or what to expect if we did end up being successful. He always stated first he expected us to be successful, and that we were doing it because we wanted to help first and foremost, not to exploit anyone or for the money. She comes to find that she was correct about him dating a successful lawyer, or rather he was engaged to one. Apparently, when he'd gone rogue on Drake, she was also fired from her job and left him. She could hear and see the sadness in his voice and eyes when he would talk about Anne. Candace felt bad for him, but she didn't pity him. If anything she was a bit jealous that he could find anyone at all in this city worth marrying.

She'd deleted tinder ages ago after reaching her limit on immature people who wanted too much from her. After so many failed dates, getting ghosted and even catfished once she'd just given up on actively seeking out someone. She wanted a partner, not someone who depended on her or got intimidated by her own ambitions. But as she liked to remind herself when she started to feel lonely, her career wouldn't wake up one morning and tell her it didn't love her anymore. So she went about her life and stayed sane with the occasional hookup, letting the cards fall where they may.

As they sat on a bench, watching and timing the police patrols of the areas, he got more inquisitive about her with his questions. He learned she came from Kansas, which would explain the strange middle of the road accent she now had. He tells her he's from New York and she does a dramatic expression of faux surprise at the news, which makes him laugh, realizing the obviousness after the fact. His instincts have him pry a little further as she seems willing to answer anything he's sought after so far. He finds out that she left Kansas after dealing with her own blacklisting of sorts. She'd exposed the mayor to pocketing all the vending machine money in all of the government buildings in the city. In her inexperience, she expected some big show of support for her efforts, a dramatic kicking out of the man in question and a public shunning afterward. But she soon learned that life isn't like the movies. The good guys don't always win and get to ride off into the sunset. Sometimes the bad guy gets reelected after a city-wide audit and the good guy gets blacklisted from working in the town. This had pushed her to move away, knowing she still wanted to find the truth and expose it and found she wanted to do that for people who couldn't do it for themselves. That how she found herself doing what she did now. He admired her work ethic and ambitiousness that apparently were deeply ingrained her. She was clearly someone who spoke with both actions and words, never shying from hard work and willing to face failure in the name of the greater good.

Once the sun starts setting they take everything they've gotten and stroll through a lovely, green park to get back to his bike. Eddie actually makes a suggestion of a Chinese place they can get food from. They stop and grab a six-pack before picking up the food and heading back her place. A locked front door and an elevator show the security of the place and he's thankful she found such a good spot since she lived alone. As soon as he walks in the studio apartment he can see her in the decor. It wasn't loud or overdone, pieces she'd written, landscapes and artistic typography hang on the light colored walls. She tells him to make himself comfortable as she grabs some clothes out a chest of drawers.

"I'll be right back, gotta peel off this outer layer I put on for the public." she jokes, already brushing her hair up with her fingers before she shuts the bathroom door behind her.

Eddie takes it upon himself to get the food out onto the small bar with stools in the kitchen. He grabs a box and sits on the soft grey couch placing a beer on a diy tiled mosaic coaster that rest on the coffee table in front of him. He looks around and finds the similarities between their places; a bed blocked off by a bookcase, although hers was much more organized and full of books, kitschy knick-knacks, and collectible toys. A blue desk with a fuzzy white chair in front and stacked boxes with scribbled names and places all full of papers. She had tall stacks of colorful books, titles telling him her wide range of interests from autobiographies to fashion and space. It looked lived in, comfortable but calm and he felt like he could move about the space without disrupting it too much. It felt warm and welcoming and a touch offbeat just like she did.

She comes out of the bathroom with a fresh face, pajama pants with a feminine floral pattern on them under a plain white shirt, her hair pulled up into a pile on top of her head. The act of her letting him see her like this seems like a statement in itself he thinks. She sits next to him, switching on the tv and plugging in the camera to her laptop before putting on a pair of black framed glasses. They clink their beers as they dig in with chopsticks and watch the news as the footage uploads to her computer.

He tells her about which newscasters are dicks in person, sharing a few stories of rubbing elbows at network parties that make her laugh. For the next few hours, they sit side by side, hunched over and watching what they'd gotten over the span of the day. She makes notes and marks time stamps for editing later, something he didn't have as much hands-on experience with as her and was taken back by how fast her brain and fingers would work in tandem to create something coherent out of him simply talking to another person. He compliments her skills, and she compliments his interpersonal skills for making it so easy to capture the right sound bites. This back and forth of praise becomes the norm for them while when work together, and it's something they both needed to hear from someone else whether they knew it or not.

Neither of them said it, but they both felt a sort of ease with each other. This was more rare for Eddie than Candace. She seemed confident no matter where she was. A trait she'd had to learn early, being a young woman in the city. Eddie, on the other hand, was outwardly charismatic but inside feeling totally comfortable was rarer. He'd tried to ignore his worries of things getting awkward with such long spans of time being spent with a stranger and an attractive one at that. The awkward silences never came and the stall in conversations were never long or spent with an inner panic trying to figure out how to get it going again. She never made him feel anything but welcome and appreciated and he'd been going home feeling better about himself every day they'd spent together.

Candace kept being pleasantly surprised by how he was just so nice. He had an animated face that spoke expressive words that never came off condescending, but always charming and usually funny. They'd grown quite fond of each other, and the chains of texts sent back and forth about things that weren't the case between the times when they'd see each other were proof of that.

Pt. 3

@raceylacy​ @emerald-bijou​ @negansdirtygirl22​ @brianaisasongbird​ @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger

[distressedpanda]

Not A Fan! (Tom Hiddleston x OFC) Part 4

Warnings: Language, Slow burn, Younger woman/Older man, Eventual SMUT

Triggers: Mentions of a dark past

Tags: @intransittosomewhere (If you want to be tagged just let me know.)

Gets a read more for length.

Part 4

Two hours later, I had deep cleaned my already spotless apartment and showered shaving every bit of me, fearing what bits of my skin might be exposed in a dress that was coming from a celebrity. I sat on my couch and applied lotion to my legs, wearing a hot pink fluffy bathrobe (thanks mom) my hair in a messy bun atop my head, when a very light knock sounded at my door.

“That has to be the dress,” I whispered to myself, and made my way to the door.

I opened the door to a young man with messy blonde hair under his delivery service ball cap. He looked down at me and blushed, becoming extremely uncomfortable and shoved a hanging clothes bag and large box at me, looking anywhere but at me. I grabbed the items, and hung the clothes bag on the hook next to my coat, as he again shoved his signature pad at me, “I. . . I. . . n-need y-y-you to sign th-this,” he managed to stutter out. I quickly signed, and he literally ran down the stairs to get away from me.

I quirked my eyebrow at his retreating form then quickly shut my door against the cold. Still holding the box I looked down at myself and blushed as well. “Well, I hope he enjoyed the show,” my robe had fallen open just enough to show a line right down my front, showing ample cleavage. Luckily the robe was tied right at my hips, leaving my sex hidden.

I grabbed the clothing bag off the hook and went into my walk in closet to get dressed. I sat the box on a bench in the corner, in front my full length mirror. Hanging the bag up I noticed a note pinned to the front.

Every woman should have a little black dress~T

I smiled at that and the heat in my cheeks returned again, but for very different reasons this time. Unzipping the bag I slowly revealed the most beautiful yet modest dress I had ever seen. A long sleeve knitted bodice, with a silk belled skirt. It was indeed black with a light pink and green flower pattern around the bottom. The collar ruffled and the ends of the sleeves were belled as well. Finding the tag, I saw it was a Ted Baker design, no price on it but I knew it couldn't have been cheap. I looked over at the box that had to be the shoes, I walked over and sat down on the bench to open it. Removing the lid I found another note on top of a mountain of wrapping tissue paper.

Thought these would work for your work as well~T

If I smiled like this anymore, my face was going to start hurting. Removing all the paper, I found a pair of knee high suede block heeled boots in black as well. They had to be the most expensive pair of shoes I would ever own.

I hurriedly stripped off my robe and found a black lace bra and panty set to put on under the dress, drawing the dress on over that, I looked in the mirror. It fit like a glove accentuating my breasts at the top and flaring at my ample hips at the skirt, coming to an end at my knees. How did he know my size. I wasn't a stick figure by any means, but my curves were in all the right places. Running my hands over my flat stomach I smoothed down the skirt trying to rid myself of the never ending butterflies this man seemed to cause.

“Now the shoes,” I went back over to the box removing the boots, and noticed a small blue velvet box underneath. Quirking my brow I quickly drew on the boots, that fit perfectly, and grabbed the smooth velvet box as I sat on the bench. Opening it, I gasped and drew a hand to my mouth. Inside was an intricate rose gold butterfly pendent with six white small diamonds and two rose colored diamonds set into each wing. Hanging on a thin rose gold chain, I wondered yet again how Thomas was reading my mind.

Adding the necklace to the ensemble, the pendant landing just above my breasts. I quickly went to do my hair and make-up. I checked the time before entering my bathroom, 5:00 shone at me from the microwave and I knew I was going to be right on time.

I applied a thin line of black eyeliner on my top lid and added a cream eye shadow, applying mascara as well. I didn't usually wear make-up at all, so my complexion was practically flawless, leaving no need for foundation. I added a light pink powder to my cheeks and a clear gloss to my full pink lips.

Curling my hair, I decided to leave it lose around my shoulders and reassessed my appearance in the mirror above the sink. My mother had taught me to accentuate my best assets when applying make-up, which I considered my eyes. And there they were, shinning like an ocean after a storm, the deep blue gray color complimented well by my eyeliner.

I smiled at myself, and felt the nerves begin to creep in on me. I walked out to my living room, and checked the time again, 5:55. He would be here any minute, and now that I was ready to go I wasn't sure I still wanted this.

I sat on the edge of my chair and a half, and chewed on my thumb nail. What if this is a mistake? What if I am not good enough to be seen in public with a celebrity? For all my bravado, my self confidence had been shot down a long time ago. By someone that should have been there for me always.

I shook those thoughts from my head, that was a dangerous and dark path to slide down, and there was no way I would be able to recover from it in the next, 5:58, two minutes. My leg wouldn't stop bouncing, and I pulled my thumb from my mouth or I was going to mall the poor thing. Just as I was considering running to hide in my shop because the nerves were getting to be too much for me to handle, there was a polite yet firm knock on my door.

I took a deep breath, and gathered myself from the chair. I smoothed out my skirt making sure there were no wrinkles, and plastered the best smile I could summon on my face as I opened the door.

“Hi, Tho. . .” I stopped and my face fell, as my eyes landed on an older dark skinned gentleman, in a black tuxedo with a chauffeurs cap on. I wrinkled my brow at him, “Oh, umm, you most have the wrong place.”

He smiled a genuine smile that crinkled the sides of his eyes, and lent down so he was looking in my eyes, “Are you Miss Cadence?” he asked, with a deep toned voice.

I instinctively, stepped behind my door hiding my body halfway behind it, “Y-y-yes,” I stammered.

His smile grew, and he stood tall again, “Then I am exactly where I should be. Mr. Hiddleston sends his sincerest regrets that he couldn't retrieve you himself. But if you will kindly follow me,” He gestured down the stairs, “My name is Leo, and I will be your driver this evening.”

I nodded my head but still had reservations, “I don't mean to be rude but how do I know for sure he sent you,” I looked everywhere but at the man, and I could feel the heat growing in my cheeks.

He chuckled slightly, “Mr. Hiddleston figured you wouldn't come with me that easily,” he reached inside his jacket, moving slowly as my eyes followed his movement. He handed over a small white piece of paper, and I took it trying to will my hand not to shake.

It turned out to be an envelope, and I opened it removing a white card. With nothing on the front, I flipped the card open and smiled.

Though she be but little, she is fierce. ~ T

Underneath the one line, was a picture of the pendent I now wore and my free hand went to it tracing the outline. I looked up at the awaiting chauffeur, and nodded again, “Thank you.”

He smiled again, “Gather your things miss,” he looked down at a silver watch on his wrist, “We are running slightly behind schedule.”

I blushed, and ducked my head quickly grabbing my coat and keys, from there hooks. I turned and placed the envelope and card on the bar, “Let me grab my phone, and I will be ready.” I moved quickly to my nightstand slipping into my coat as I moved and grabbed my cell from the nightstand where it had been charging. Slipping it into my coat pocket, I left the apartment pausing only to lock my door and place my keys in my pocket as well. I followed the man silently down the stairs, to a black Lexus parked by the sidewalk. He opened the back door and made a sweeping gesture for me to enter. Climbing in trying to keep my skirt and coat in place, he closed the door and just as quickly we were off.

I couldn't really see where we were heading the windows tinted so dark I couldn't make out more than lights flashing by as we moved along. I played nervously with the buttons on my coat, and my knee continued its insufferable bounce, betraying my nerves. But much sooner than I expected, we were easing out of the Saturday night traffic to park. I waited as Leo came around the car to open my door, extending his hand, which I excepted graciously, helping pull me from the confines of the interior.

Looking around I was startled and confused. This was not a restaurant, but a hotel, the Q&A to be exact. I looked up at Leo, my worry seemingly plan across my face for he gave me a comforting smile, and gently placed a hand on my back urging me forward.

“You are in the correct place miss, I believe the manager is waiting for you inside and will escort you to where you need to be,” still smiling he turned on his heel and getting in to drove away.

I stood there dumb founded for a moment, until the chill in the air started to make my teeth chatter, “Well, no turning back now,” I whispered to myself. I looked back up at the expansive outside of the building and reigned in all kinds of terrifying thoughts about what this all meant. Squaring my shoulders, I walked into the revolving door of the lobby and walked up to the front desk asking for the manager. When the older woman came out to greet me, I shook her hand and gave my name.

She grinned widely, “Oh yes, Mr. Hiddleston's guest.” She gestured that I should follow her calling over her shoulder, “Please, come right this way.”

Entering the elevator we rode all the way to the top floor, I was never keen on heights, it was one of the reasons I had chosen my place of residence. Not to high up. My knees were shaking when the doors finally opened, and I stepped out into the hall on wobbly legs.

There were rooms to the right and left of us, and I followed the women to the right and two doors down on the right. “Here it is,” she chimed cheerfully, giving me her best professional smile, “Do let me know if you should need anything,” she added, before walking past me back toward the elevator. I rolled my eyes at her departing form. She probably thinks I am a hooker.

I took a deep breath, raising a shaking hand to knock. I couldn't believe I was going through with this but here I was, I softly let my knuckles rap against the door twice before lowering my arm back to my side.

So soft I could just barely here it, “Come in,” rang at me from inside. It was unmistakably Thomas, which both thrilled me and caused my nerves to sky rocket. I tentatively reached out and turn the door handle, pushing it open to step inside, before quickly closing it behind me. I was in a short hallway, and I could see the entire room, much like my apartment. Directly in front of me, there was a small table for two, and directly to the left a small kitchen in which stood Thomas. Behind that there was a couch against the right wall across from a television on the left. Against the back wall sat a king size bed with nightstands on each side, to the left of it was another small hallway, which I assumed led to the bathroom. Two large windows faced the street on either side of the bed, and the whole room was open and bright, everything was done in grays and white with hints of black.

Thomas turned to me as I finished surveying the room, holding a wooden spoon in one hand. Wearing black dress slacks over which was tied a small white apron and a bright blue button down, with black loafers. His glasses missing from his face but there absence didn't take away from his gorgeous face, if anything I could see his eyes much better. I noticed the top two buttons undone on his shirt and couldn't stop the shiver the site caused, He would probably be breathtaking in rags, the bastard. He was grinning ear to ear, and waved me in with his free hand, “Come, take you coat off. There are hooks behind you.”

I looked over my shoulder to see the hooks he mentioned, and shrugged out of my coat to hang it there. I smoothed my hands nervously over my skirt, as I turned back to see him watching my every move. His eyes were locked on my hands, and his look was almost sinister as he sucked air between his parted lips. “Stunning,” he breathed between barely parted lips. I blushed heavily, feeling a tingle start to form in my lower belly.

I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders, needing to thank him, like the southern bell I was raised to be. But he beat me to the chase, “Have a seat, won't you?” he said startling me. It almost sounded like a challenge, and he turned stirring something on the stove. That's when the smell hit me, it was overwhelming in its melody and made my mouth water.

Oh my god this man is cooking for me, I thought and quickly made my way to the table, trying not to wobble out of my tall boots. The knowledge that Thomas was preparing me a meal, made my heart race, and I sank heavily into the seat. In the south, you only cooked home made meals for family and people you truly cared about. For all I knew, it meant something totally different over seas.

Attempting to refocus on what I still needed to do, I looked up at Thomas. His back to me, I found my self openly staring, his unruly curls where even worse in the back and yet so much better, I found myself wondering how soft they would feel between my fingers. His shoulders were broad and yet not overly so, fitting well with his sleek frame. Gliding my eyes down his well toned back, I came across his . . .

I quickly snapped my eyes away from his back side, feeling the heat rising from my neck up to my cheeks and that tingle in my stomach turned into a small flame. Quiet you, I scolded my body and reminded it yet again, You just met him, six hours ago!

I cleared my throat again, and shook all dirty thoughts from my mind as he turned to look at me again, I met his gaze and slowly melted into his blue eyes, “Thank you,” I breathed, and immediately tried to focus on anything but him. “For the, umm, clothes, I mean.”

I focused on my hands as he chuckled. Hearing his loafers click across the tile floor, I tried to stay focused on my thumb nail on my right hand, but failed miserably when I could feel him standing close to me, too close. I craned my neck back to look up at him standing over me and felt my self drowning in his blue orbs, “You are quite welcome, Alyse.” His voice was soft, but resonated through out my entire body. “Do you like them?” he asked licking his bottom lip, before capturing his tongue there between his teeth. I couldn't speak suddenly my mouth was the Sahara desert, and I nodded unable to answer any other way. He smiled widely again, “Good, because you look lovely. I am glad you liked everything.” He accentuated the word by raising his left hand and placing a finger lightly on the butterfly pendant that rested just above my breasts, and my breath hitched in my throat. Suddenly, he removed his hand and spun away, leaving me swooning in the chair. He cleared his throat as he stepped back to the stove, to check something in the oven. He took the pot off of the stove, and poured it into a colander in the sink. “Would you like a drink? I have Merlot or Jameson.” he said, while attending to his task and this time I noticed he wouldn't look at me.

Am I affecting him the same way he is affecting me? I couldn't help but wonder as I tried to focus on his question, and not stare at his back side as he lent over to pull a dish from the oven. "Wine is fine, thank you,” I managed to say, without sounding to breathy and was proud of myself.

“Merlot it is then,” He reached to an upper cabinet and bulled out a wine glass and a scotch glass, before moving to the fridge for each of the bottles. Pouring the liquid, and returning the bottles, he grabbed both glasses and came over to me stretching the wine glass out to the table to set in front of me, “My lady,” he said, as he removed his hand and took a sip from his own glass before setting it on the table as well.

He turned again, and grabbed two bowls from the counter top. Serving up the meal into the bowls, he riffled through a drawer for some silverware. He brought the bowls to the table placing one in front of me along with a fork and a spoon. “Bon appetite,” he chimed taking his own seat.

It was noodles and a red sauce with some fresh parmesan scattered across the top. My mouth watered anew at the heavenly aroma, quickly taking up my fork and spoon to get a bite before my stomach betrayed my hunger.

If I thought the smell was heaven, then the taste was pure sin. The flavors burst across my tongue, and I let out an appreciative moan I couldn't hold in as I chewed.

He smiled from where he sat across the table from me, “Do you like it?” his voice a playful whisper, as he dug into his own plate.

I nodded my head taking a drink of my wine, to clear my mouth, “Yes, very much. But what is it?”

He chuckled, holding a hand in front of his mouth as he spoke through his bite, “It's my recipe for Bolognese,” he chimed proudly, before taking another bite.

My eyes widened, not only had he cooked but it was his recipe as well. He was truly surprising in every aspect, “I must say,” I took another sip of my wine to clear my mouth again, “This is not at all what I was expecting.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me and finished chewing before asking, “What were you expecting?”

I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks and let my hair fall over my shoulder, to hide my face, “I don't know, some fancy restaurant uptown. Lots of cameras, copious amounts of fans. You know, the life of a celebrity,” I stated matter-of-factly, before attempting to drown myself in my wine glass.

“Is that what you would have wanted?” he asked sounding forlorn.

I quickly shock my head, setting down my empty wine glass and bringing my gaze to meet his eyes, “Of course not, I guess I just assumed. . .” I trailed off, before allowing my hair to hide my face again and adding, “I am sorry, I shouldn't have. . .”

I was cut off by his hand reaching out to brush my hair behind my ear, “What did I say about apologizing?” he asked softly.

I could barely breath, and when his thumb ran gently across my cheek bone, I found my eyes closing against my will. “You told me not to,” I barely pushed past my teeth, and I unwillingly nuzzled into his hand.

He chuckled, and my eyes snapped open as I lent back out of his grasp. The wine was making me bold, and I knew I was going to have to fight all night not to make any rash or detrimental decisions. “You will find, I am a very private person even though I have celebrity status.” It made since to me. Though I had always wanted to work for movies making my mask and props and working on special effects, I never thought I would be able to handle the limelight associated with it.

We finished our meal, while talking about very safe subjects: details about the gala, ideas for his mask, what exactly was in his bolognese recipe. He got up to refill our glasses a couple times before we were finished. By the end of the second glass, I was able to talk to him without hiding behind my hair. By the third, I knew I was more than a little tipsy, and when the forth glass came, I decided to babysit it for the rest of the night so that I wasn't getting plastered, especially since Thomas was still nursing glass number three.

“I should probably incorporate, Loki in the mask somehow,” he suddenly stated, standing to clear our empty bowls from the table. He rinsed them out before placing them and the cook wear he had used in the small dishwasher next to the stove.

“Like Loki from Norse mythology?” I asked swinging my legs to the side of the chair to face him. Leaning into one elbow on the table and settling my fist against the side of my head, I didn't really understand where he was going with this.

He chuckled, as he turned and lent against the counter, placing his hands on the edge his shirt bunched and pulled in the most glorious way across his well toned chest. Gods gift to women right there, I thought, And I bet he knows it to. The flame in my stomach and been burning at a small ache all night, but every move he made was like throwing small amounts of kerosene on it. A roaring and then dulling feeling, ever present.

“I keep forgetting that you don't watch movies,” he shock his head, and ran a hand through those bouncing curls, “It's more along the lines of the comic books than the mythology. I can't imagine, you read any of those while reading instead of viewing,” he chuckled again.

It seemed my past was determined to swallow me, in front of this man. Comic books made me think of my brother, my brother made me think of him, and he was a dangerous road to travel towards. I took a big swig from the wine glass I had been trying so desperately not to drink from, attempting to drown out my memories but I knew it was no use.

Thomas had continued talking, completely unaware of the turmoil he had created inside me, “I would have to shave my beard again. Which I don't mind doing. It is for the children after all.” He finally looked up at me, I was looking at him but I wasn't seeing him. The distant look in my eyes most have startled him, because he was suddenly on his knees in front of me, grasping gently at the hand that didn't have a death grip on the wine glass. I hadn't even seen him move, I wasn't really seeing him now. I registered his presence the way one would, someone they have known there whole lives. It wasn't his movements or the feel of him touching me as he held my hand, it was merely his presence. When he reached up with the hand not holding mine and ran his knuckles across my cheek I flinched, and he quickly drew his hand away, “Alyse, are you alright?”

I giggled, but there was no joy in the sound. My eyes finally reached his, those blue orbs begging me to come back to him. I had no idea whether it was the wine or the comfort he unknowingly provided me, but I found myself opening up to him the way I had with no one but my mother, “I have know most of the Avengers comic books,” my voice trembled at the admittance, but something spurred me on. It was like the walls I had built around my past were starting to crack, “I know all about that Loki too. Not because I was a fan of them though,” I whispered, “My brother read them, and read them to me because that was what he wanted to do for me.” I wasn't sure if I was even making since and I dropped my head and let out a shuddering breath.

He brushed my cheek lightly this time, trying so hard not to startle me. I shuddered and lent into his touch slightly, needing the comfort he was offering even though he didn't know why I needed to be comforted, “You didn't tell me you have a brother,” he whispered tentatively, trying to urge me to keep talking.

I huffed at him, and let go of the wine glass to curl in on myself, “I don't,” I stated firmly, and then reigned in the anger behind that statement. Thomas was only trying to help, I had no right to get angry with him. “Had is the correct term,” I breathed through my clenched throat, “I don't have him anymore.”

“Oh Alyse.” Thomas said drawing me in to his chest, embracing me firmly and running a hand gently up and down my back, “I am so sorry. If I had known, I never would have so callously ment. . .”

I quickly cut him off, pushing off of his chest just enough to fly a finger to his lips, “What did you say about apologizing?” I demanded.

He smiled sweetly against my finger, “For you not to.”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my hand, but couldn't help but return a small smile, “Alright smartass, but the same goes for you. No apologizing for things you have no control over.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He chided, and I rolled my eyes again, suddenly feeling a lot less like I was being ripped apart by my past.

“I didn't mean to get caught in my past, its just. . . It wasn't that long ago when I lost him,” I defeatedly admitted.

He sighed and lent further away from me, “If you don't mind my asking, how did it happen?”

“Beings that I sort of had a break down on you, I guess I don't mind,” I chuckled without mirth. “It was four years ago, a car accident. The police report said the driver was drunk, and it looked like my brother was struggling to get out. . . they had a head on collision with a power line pole. . . The driver walked away without a scratch, my brother,” my voice hitched. Thomas nodded at me like he understood, but he didn't. I left out who the driver was so he couldn't understand.

“I am sorry for your loss, I wish. . .” he trailed off without finishing, and shock his head staring down at the floor.

“What, Thomas?” my tone breathless and urgent, I looked at him begging with my eyes. Desperately needing to know what he wished for, with a part of me I was unfamiliar with.

His cool blue eyes locked on mine, sending a full fledged fire straight to my core. He took an unsteady breath, and lent forward pressing his forehead to mine, “I wish I could make it all go away. All the pain and hurt. For some reason I can't explain, I want to take care of you, Alyse.”

I shivered, my breath catching in my throat. He seemed to be genuinely concerned about me, but he didn't know me. He didn't know everything, he didn't know the triggers that would set me off, or have me crawling back inside myself to hide. But as I shifted my head to look at his face, all soft angles, his eyes closed, and lips parted taking shallow steadying breaths, I truly believed he might want to learn.

“Thomas, this is crazy. My past is ugly, and I wouldn't wish the burden of my truths on anyone. Why would you want to take care of me? Why am I even here?” I asked, without actually expecting an answer. This time when I pulled back, I broke contact with him, forcing his hands to his sides. “I am broken, Thomas.”

“Then let me fix you,” he breathed. Clearing his throat, he stood, “Let me share your burdens, you are here because I saw a spark in you that should never be doused. Broken is not ruined, and I can see the fire and hope in your eyes,” he slowly grasped my right hand with his left, pulling me from the chair as he continued, “It's fleeting and fading slowly every minute I have been with you,” pulling me close to him, he let our hands lay clasped together over his heart while his right hand grazed across my cheek, fingers tangling gently in my soft curls. I nuzzled into his palm as I listened. “But it is still there, Alyse, which means you can be fixed if you let someone in.”

I had closed my eyes against the onslaught of his words, the emotional turmoil too much to contend with. My eyes snapped open at the brush of his lips against mine, I froze. Hesitantly, I breathed through my lips as he ghosted his mouth against mine again, leaving a chaste kiss there.

I sighed heavily, my eyes becoming half lidded and nuzzlingly more assuredly into his hand. Looking up at him through my lashes, he gave me a small smile and licked his bottom lip, “You are beautiful in your brokenness, and dazzling under your burdens. Let me help you shine brighter, so that the world may see what I see, when I am lost in the storm of your eyes.”

I trembled in his grasp, his poetic words resonating with my very soul. When he lent in for another kiss, I let myself go. No longer wanting to think about my past, how quickly we were moving, or anything at all really. Wrapping my free hand up to caress the curls at the nape of his neck. They were so much softer and silkier than I could ever have imagined. Our lips collided with passion, he licked his tongue across my lips and I opened for him, reeling in the battle our tongues fought. I could taste the scotch on his tongue, and it began to intoxicate me anew.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a niggling doubtful thought occurred. Slow down, Alyse. You don't know him, he doesn't know you. My mind battled with the fire at my core, as his tongue continued to caress mine. But all to soon, my mind won. It always had.

I pulled away from his lips leaving us both panting. Reluctantly releasing my fingers from his hair, I lent back in his arms, placing my free hand on his toned bicep, “You might be asking for more than I can give,” my voice small and catching in my throat.

He shock his head, “I would never,” he purred breathlessly, and I grasped his arm tighter to keep my knees from buckling as I trembled again.

“I need space, time. I. . .I. . .” I couldn't continue, wrapped up in his arms. I couldn't think, could barely breath.

He smiled widely at me, “Of course, you are correct.” He drew the hand that was still against his heart to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss against my knuckles. Dragging my hand across his lips, he added, “May I see you again, tomorrow night?”

I blinked. My head fuzzy from the wine, emotions, and heated kiss, I was dumbfound. But that fire at my core crept up skin again, and I nodded my head before my mind took over.

Kissing my knuckles again, his grin grew wider, “Perfect,” he purred. And I wasn't sure if he meant my answer or me. I blushed, and he slowly released his hold on me glancing over his shoulder to a clock on the wall. 11:00

“I suppose you will be wanting to get home now?” It was a question, but his tone and his eyes were begging me to stay.

I swallowed thickly, and nodded my conformation. Turning for the door quickly, I reached to grab my coat, but his hand landed on top of mine before I could remove it from the hook. He pressed himself against my back, my breath hitching in my throat, and nuzzled through my hair, “You could stay?” his breath tickled my ear in the most delicious way, making my own breathing next to impossible. He looped his other arm around my waist pulling me closer to his chest.

“I don't have anything to wear,” I said on a breathless whisper, for the second time since meeting him. My hands wrapping tentatively around his arm.

He chuckled and I could feel the vibrations from his chest through out my entire body, “I could fix that,” his voice low and sultry.

Even though I couldn't see it, I could feel that devilish grin across his lips as he pressed them against the shell of my ear. I grinned as well, “You can't buy me a whole new wardrobe, Mr. Hiddleston,” and giggled as his arm tightened around my waist.

“Who says I can't?” He breathed across my ear again, making me tremble with want and need. The fire at my core dangerously close to consuming me.

I slowly turned to face him, in his grasp and placed my hands on either side of his face, “I do,” I said sternly, still grinning.

He quickly captured my lips with his own, trying to consume me. I let a small moan escape, and his responding growl sent shivers down my spine. I pulled back moving my hands to his chest along with my eyes. If I didn't look away, I wasn't sure I would be able to say no, “I really do have to go, I have to get some sleep. I have work I need to do, and I have to draw up some sketches for your mask.”

“You don't have to worry about my mask for another few months. You could sleep here, and I swear I will return you well rested to your apartment bright and early,” He stroked my cheek with his fingers, and tilted my chin up with his thumb, locking eyes with me again. “Just please, stay with me tonight,” he whispered across my lips.

Caught in those blown out blue orbs, feeling like I might ultimately live to regret it, I smiled. Leaning up to peck his lips, “Who am I to say no?”

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Twenty Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC  |  Word Count: 5647 Warnings: smexy and feels

Sadie stared at her in stupefied silence, her gaze drifting from Lauren’s down to the brúðr steinn and back up. “Lordy,” she finally managed to breathe out. “Lu… that’s… that’s… somethin’.”

Lauren only snickered softly.

It had been a shocking afternoon for her best friend, starting from the moment she’d tripped in the exterior doors to stumble to a stop and stare at what had once been Lauren’s bed.

The extravagance of the green and gold silk, the sheer layers of curtains, and ornate bed frame had Sadie’s mouth falling open in surprise. After, the questions had come fast and furious, seeming without end, as she’d rushed across the room and flopped over backward on the luxurious bed.

Lauren’s eye, however, had been caught by the tray of finger sandwiches, a pitcher of cold tea, a bowl of fruit and platter of cheeses left on her dresser. She’d smiled even as she’d shaken her head. It was not something Sue Ann would have sent up, and she knew instantly her crafty God of Mischief had used magic to create her something to eat.

She’d made quick work of the offering from her seat on the sofa, filling Sadie in on the mayhem and chaos which had consumed the past few days. Sadie had laughed wickedly when Lauren explained about Cissy, nearly falling from the bed when she kicked her heels to the ceiling.

Sadie had joined her on the sofa after, helping plow through the mound of food Loki had left while Lauren talked about what had happened with her father, with Marabeth, and with George. Her best friend had been madder than a wet hen when Lauren had told her about what her mother had been up to with her ex, and how he had expected to waltz back into her life and make off with the Annandale fortune.

If Lauren had a moment of weakness and sniffled a little, Sadie hadn’t held it against her. It was a trauma Lauren knew she would need time and distance from to stop having it hurt her. Of course, she’d ended up on the receiving end of a Sadie hug, the kind that came with tightly squeezing arms and quiet murmurs of reassurance, just like the ones she’d gotten from Sadie’s mother’s when Lauren was a girl.

After, she’d excused herself to the bathroom to strip out of her dress and throw on a robe. In the mirror over the sink, Lauren had caught sight of the golden suns clinging to her breasts and shivered when a rush of heat went straight to her core. They’d been a decadent kind of torment all day, keeping the buds swollen and tender, throbbing slightly when her dress brushed them.

Seated on the couch, she’d found the dress moved with more freedom to the point where a flush had grown in her cheeks from how aroused she always was. Sadie had looked at her funny, but Lauren simply waved it off as the fault of the late day heat which seemed to have stalled outside her door.

When she’d returned, Sadie had borrowed Lauren’s other robe and was waiting before the makeup table with all of the best cosmetics. They would do hair and makeup first, then dress as was proper.

It was then Sadie really began to ask questions, and Lauren had caved, telling her everything about coming home with a fake boyfriend who swiftly became a phony fiancé, only to have him admit real feelings and give her the brúðr steinn. The explanation of its significance was even more complicated, and when she finished, Lauren sat there and watched her friend gape at her.

“Close your mouth, hun. You look to be catchin’ flies.” She gave Sadie a wink.

Sadie shook a finger at Lauren in the mirror. “Nuh uh! Y’all just told me you’re the perfect match, the only match to the God of Mischief! I’m entitled to have a moment to freak out, Lulu!”

With a laugh, Lauren stroked her fingers over the pendant. “You can see why I couldn’t let mama get a hold of it.”

“Hell, yeah! Why, if she had any idea…” Sadie’s voice trailed off as her eyes grew big and round. “Lu… your mama called you a prin-princess!”

“Oh!” Lauren paled. “Yeah, no. It’s not a big deal. Loki said I could opt out and all if I want.” She twisted her ring around her finger nervously and bit her lip.

Sadie’s eyes softened before she stepped behind Lauren, bent close and wrapped her arms around her a second time. “Don’t let the things your mama and sisters have been spewing at you all your life taint what you will have with him, Lu. You’re beautiful, smart, and talented. You were made for him. How marvellous is that? You’re so special, Lu, an entire race rejoices because of you. Be a princess. You never know, hun. You may like it. And besides, who cares what three mean-spirited old nanny goats think when the King of Asgard calls you little sister.”

Tears welled even as she laughed, grasped Sadie’s arms, and held them tight to her chest. “Mean-spirited old nanny goats is right up there with beddin’ wench!”

“I’m rather proud of it.” Sadie winked at her in the mirror before a wicked grin bared all her teeth. “But I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Lauren said as Sadie pulled away. She reached for her hairbrush and tried not to shiver when the silky texture of her robe rubbed her erect nipple.

“What the hell kind of kinky fuckery are you and Loki up to?”

“Huh!?” she gasped, turning a shade close to crimson.

“Girl,” Sadie smirked. “Y'all have your bellybutton pierced, don’t go thinkin’ I didn't notice. Loki has only to touch you, and y’all practically melt from the sizzle. Add in the bit of hanky-panky goin’ on in my stock room, somethin’ you never would have got up to with ol’ quick draw Montgomery, and I was already suspicious. But since I got here, you’ve got somethin’ goin’ on… somethin’... deviant.” She narrowed her eyes at Lauren as Lauren pulled the collars of her robe tighter together. “Spill it, Lu.”

“It’s… um… nothin’.”

“Lauren Guillemin! Don’t you go givin’ me that nothin’ garbage. I got eyes! I can see somethin’ is up with you.” Sadie shook her finger at her all over again.

Like a chastised child, Lauren turned back to the mirror and began vigorously brushing her hair. “It ain’t nothin’, really.” The shock of pleasure betrayed her, and Lauren nearly dropped the brush.

“Liar!” Sadie crowed, wiggling and giggling for all she was worth. “C’mon, Lu! I need to know! I can only imagine how… how… virile an Asgardian would be in bed. I’m dyin’ here!”

“Sadie June Brockett! What would your mama say?”

“She’d say the same damn thing, and you know it,” Sadie huffed.

Lauren snickered. It was the truth after all. Sadie’s mother had been the one she’d gone to when things with George had gotten… physical. Still, she wasn’t about to give in that easy. “Pervert. Gettin’ all up in my love life.”

“Please!” Sadie whined, taking the brush away to work it through Lauren’s hair.

The move was a dirty one. Sadie knew just how much Lauren loved having her hair done. “Sadie…”

“Marcus and I have a swing.”

“What!” She almost ripped a chunk of hair from her head when she whipped it around to look at Sadie. “You… really?”

Sadie chuckled even as her cheeks pinked lightly. “Yeah, well. Been married a while now. It added a little spice to our love life.”

Lauren could only gape at her in amazement. “Should I be askin’ you what kinda kinky fuckery y’all get up to?”

A wide grin grew on the brunette’s face, her brow arched, and she cocked her hip to the side. “Honey, you ask me anythin’ you want. I ain’t shy.”

“Sweet, merciful Jesus!” Lauren squeaked and turned back to the mirror.

It didn’t help when Sadie laughed loudly, gave her a saucy wink, and went back to working on Lauren’s hair.

Silence hung for a few more heartbeats before Lauren swallowed thickly and muttered, “Nip… nipple shields.”

“Can I see?”

“NO!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Sadie burst out laughing.

“Hussy.” Lauren pouted.

More silence hung once Sadie’s laughter ended, and Lauren let her eyes drift closed, relaxing into the soothing touch. They’d already decided to tie her hair back in a low knot at her nape. Her dress was elegant and streamlined, a statement in itself. The focal point would be the brúðr steinn, and the cuffs around her wrists which seemed to fit so well with her outfit. The beautiful patterns on them matched almost exactly the ones on her pendant. 

“So,” Sadie said softly, “What’s he like in that ginormous bed y’all share?”

A smirk twitched Lauren’s lips. Sadie was like a dog with a bone. “Amazin’,” she sighed as she gave up the battle.

“Does he keep you comin’ for hours? He seems the type to want to sink in and just… wallow.”

“I don’t know.” A particularly had jerk of the hair had Lauren’s eyes popping open. “What?”

“How can you not know?” Sadie eyed her suspiciously.

Another flush burned through Lauren’s face. “We… we haven’t actually…”

“Y’all haven’t had sex yet!” Sadie barked.

“Little louder, hun. Don’t think the fella’s in the barn heard you!” She shot Sadie a glare.

“Wait, wait! Hold up. You have one of the finest men I have ever laid eyes on sleepin’ in your bed, and you haven’t jumped his bones? Lauren Guillemin Annandale!”

“It’s not like that!” she protested as Sadie began pushing pins into Lauren’s hair with a little too much vigour. “He found out about George-”

“Three pump pencil prick,” Sadie muttered.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “-and Loki got this crazy idea in his head that he had to make up for George’s shortcomin’s,” Sadie snorted, “in the sack.”

That arched Sadie’s brow a second time. “And just how did he go about doin’ that, darlin’?”

She blushed and looked away from the mirror. “He… he… made up for what I missed out on.”

“He gave you orgasms?” she squeaked.

Lauren nodded, thoroughly embarrassed.

“How many?”

“Sadie!”

“Oh, like I’m gonna let you stop now! How many and where? All in the sexy bed? Other places? Details, girl, details!!”

Lauren covered her face with her hands. “Why do I like you again?”

“Because I’m awesome. Now, spill!”

“God, Sadie!” she shouted, fully exasperated.

“Okay, okay. How about just one? One, nicely detailed encounter to tide me over.”

“You sound like a horny teen again!”

Sadie reached for the hairspray. “So my sex drive is high! So what?”

“One would think you were pregnant or somethin’ with how you’re carryin’ on,” Lauren muttered.

The hand reaching for the hairspray froze before making contact.

Lauren’s gaze snapped to Sadie’s in the mirror. “No…” she whispered.

Tears welled in Sadie’s eyes as her best friend nodded.

She was off the stool with her arms wrapped around Sadie in a second. “Oh, Sadie!” Lauren cried, unbelievably happy for them. “How long?”

“Just ten weeks. The throwin’ up has finally calmed down,” Sadie said through happy tears.

“Why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?” Lauren scolded, setting Sadie away but keeping hold of her arms as they both sniffled back tears.

“You kinda trumped me with the whole the God of Mischief is my fiancé thing,” she laughed.

A sheepish smile curled Lauren’s lips. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No, no! I was so excited. I planned on tellin’ you tomorrow once all the ruckus of that,” she tilted her head toward the door, “was through.”

“I’m just so happy for you! A baby,” she sighed, “How’d Marcus take the news?”

“Fell off the porch,” Sadie snickered.

“No!”

“Right into the azaleas!”

She could see it vividly and laughed at the image. “Poor boy. What about your mama and daddy?”

“Mama tried to break my ears with her screamin’. Daddy looked torn between elated and like he wanted to kill Marcus for knockin’ up his little girl!”

It sent Lauren into more rounds of laughter for it sounded just like what she expected. Sadie’s daddy was the sweetest, kindest, biggest softy around, but he was a devil when it came to his baby. “He’ll come ‘round when there’s a grandbaby to bounce on his knee. I’m so happy for you, hun.” She seemed to grow in radiance right before Lauren’s eyes.

“Thanks, Lu.”

They hugged again, the two women closer than ever, even though they'd spent nearly four years separated by distance.

“Enough of this sappy stuff, weepin’ like old women,” Sadie muttered, shooing Lauren back onto the stool. “Least it was before we did our makeup.”

Lauren giggled as she sat, deliriously happy for her friend.

“So?” Sadie said, eyeing her impatiently.

“What?”

“Do I get my story now?”

Lauren groaned, but it was half-hearted. “Fine. Guess that news is kind of worth a present,” she teased.

“Damn straight!”

Snickering, Lauren motioned toward the bed. “Those shears were a new addition to the bed last night,” she began, smiling as she remembered and tried not to shiver in pleasure.

***

“Damn…” Sadie wheezed, now seated, as Lauren worked the curling iron through her hair so her waves would fall in curls and ringlets from her crown down the back of her neck.

“It’s why I could tell Thor I knew what an Asgardian evenin’ looked like,” Lauren smiled.

“I say again. Damn… Do you think he'd give Marcus a few pointers?”

“Sadie!”

“What? I love my husband, but damn, girl. Yours has got skills!” She fanned herself suggestively and made Lauren blush.

“I swear, Sadie June if you tell Marcus any of this I will see that picture from the fourth grade Easter picnic ends up emailed to every one of your clients!”

She gasped in horror. “You big ho! You swore you destroyed that picture!”

Lauren gave her a smug smile. “Au contraire. I said it would never see the light of day.”

“Do I need to remind you of the county fair where you tore open the backside of your pants escapin’ from Bobby Franklin? I seem to recall panties of shockin’ green with little white sheep.”

Lauren froze. “You wouldn't.”

“Oh, I so would.”

They stared each other down.

“Truce?” they said at the same time and broke out in giggles.

Lauren gently squeezed Sadie’s shoulder. “I really have missed you.”

“Me too, hun.” Sadie patted her hand. A quiet knock came to the door before either of them could say any more.

“Yes?” Lauren called.

“Lauren, darling. Are you ladies decent?”

“Come on in, Loki,” Sadie giggled.

“Do I need to cover my eyes?” he asked as he pushed in the door, hand hovering at face level.

“You’re fine, peaches.” Lauren smiled and shook her head when he dropped his hand. “Y’all alright? Where’s Thor?”

“Drinking in the garden.” He eyed her appreciatively. “Darling, you will be most radiant tonight.”

“Hush, you. I’m still in my bathrobe,” she huffed, finishing the last of Sadie’s curls and giving the whole mass a once over with the hairspray.

“So? You are gorgeous no matter what you wear...  or don’t wear,” he said, his grin wicked.

Sadie snickered and smirked at Lauren in the mirror. “He’s so bad! I love it.”

“You two are terrible,” Lauren grumbled.

“Did you stick it to Quinn and fix it all up, Loki?” Sadie asked, ignoring Lauren completely.

“Hm.” He shrugged. “I believe it will suit. I thought perhaps I could spirit Lauren away for a moment to see if it meets with her approval as, from what I’ve gathered, the guests will be arriving soon.”

“Do you ever just ask him questions so he’ll talk to you in that pretty voice?” Sadie asked, looking up at Lauren.

“Fancy, ain’t he? He read me poetry by the river the other day,” Lauren teased, sending Loki a smirk.

“Really?” Sadie sighed. “Be still my heart.”

Loki only arched a brow and prowled forward with his ground-eating stride. “Lady fair, have we not met in our lives elsewhere? Darkling in my mind tonight, faint fair faces dare, memory's old unfaithfulness to what was true and fair. Long of memory is regret, but what regret has taken flight through my memory's silences? Lo, I turn it to the light. 'Twas but a pleasure in distress, too faint and far off for redress, but some light glancing in your hair and in the liquid of your eyes, seem to murmur old goodbyes in our lives elsewhere. Have we not met, lady fair?”*

“Ohh… my word,” Sadie whispered, her eyes huge and cheeks red when Loki took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. She blinked at him for a moment before turning her flushed face toward Lauren. “I hate you.”

“Try bein’ on the receivin’ end of that when you know he ain’t teasin’.” Lauren fanned her own flushed face.

Loki only laughed. “Everyone keeps calling me fancy, I may as well play the part.”

“Please, can I borrow him?” Sadie begged, making Lauren giggle.

“For what, pray tell?” he asked.

Lauren patted his chest before heading for the two dresses hung off the door of her closet. “Sadie’s just teasin’, peaches.”

Sadie grasped Loki’s hand. “No, no I’m not! Teach my husband!”

Loki gave her a wink and brushed his hair back. “You can’t teach perfection, Sadie dear.”

Lauren snorted.

“Ouch, darling. You have bruised my ego.”

“You’ll live,” she threw over her shoulder while collecting her gown. “Sadie? What underwear am I using with this?”

“You could stick with none, my heart,” Loki crooned wickedly.

“Behave, you.” Lauren sent him a warning glance.

“If I was the vindictive sort,” Sadie grumbled, “I’d conveniently forget to tell you about the box I put in the bathroom, and let your… Ástvinur?” she looked to Loki who smiled and nodded, “Have his way.”

“But you’re not,” Lauren laughed.

“But I’m not. Jealous? Hell yeah, but not vindictive,” Sadie pouted.

Lauren continued to chuckle as she took her dress from the back of the door. “Give me two shakes, Loki, and I’ll come have a look.”

“No rush, darling. I’ll wait outside.” He nodded to Sadie, tucked his hands in his pockets, and exited through the balcony doors.

Lauren frowned, confused by his decision to wait on the balcony, but went into the bathroom to change as Sadie finished touching up her makeup.

She barely had the door shut before the reason for his exit was made clear when familiar hands landed on her hips and pulled her to his chest.

“Loki!” she hissed. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you, my love,” he murmured, pressing her into the countertop. “With how incredibly gorgeous you look, I simply had to touch you.” His hands pulled at the ties of her blue satin robe until it came loose and bared the length of her to his eyes. “Perfection,” he hummed, tracing his fingertips over her breasts.

Lauren shuddered under the attention, loving it even as she blushed.

“Look at how you glow, my heart. How radiant you are.” He turned her to face the mirror and pulled her robe open further.

She did seem rather… rosy, the flush colouring most of her body when she caught sight of herself. Her skin had browned a bit from their day by the river, causing the gold of her serpents around her navel, the suns around her nipples, and the necklace around her throat to shimmer and shine brightly.

Sadie had worked magic with her face, giving Lauren cat eyes and a pouty red lip. Her hair looked like corn silk, tied low and loose in a knot at her nape. Wisps curled against her cheeks, soft and flowing, and her eyes sparkled a deep, dark green.

Loki’s fingers skimmed the valley between her breasts, then cupped them and made her moan. His thumbs brushed her nipples, the buds fat and hard.

Lauren leaned her head back against him. “Elskan min…” she sighed, relishing the coolness of his chest after the heat of the day.

“You make my heart pound when you say those words,” he breathed, gliding his hands from her breasts down the sleek length of her torso. He framed her tattoo with his fingers and nipped gently at her jaw. “I want to kiss you, and touch you, and lick you all over until I have tasted every inch of your skin.”

“Loki,” she moaned softly, her fingers wrapping around his wrists.

A wicked chuckle spilled from his lips. “Tonight, my darling, nothing will keep me from doing so.”

Fingers pet her hips, long strokes, tender touches which had heat and wetness pooling between her thighs. “Lo-Loki,” she whined when the fingers of one hand skated lower to brush her mound and those of the other returned to her chest.

“Sadly, I need to take these from you, my sweet.” He traced his finger around one golden sun. “They will quite show through your gown.”

Lauren could have hardly cared at the moment, her attention entirely focused on the fingers gradually dipping lower with every slow curl. She ached. She yearned. She whimpered for more and looked to his face in the mirror. Hers was pink with arousal, but his. His was the face of a Warrior God come to remind her to who she belonged.

The image of the two of them was one of soft surrender and dark ascendancy. He appeared powerful with eyes full of lust and clenched jaw, so tall her head fit beneath his chin. A picture of strength, he was the definition of control. Her body responded to his touch like a puppet, albeit a willing one. He breathed in, and she exhaled. He touched her, and she purred, arched and moaned.

It was freeing. Where once she’d felt inadequate in such matters, now Lauren knew it was not she who had been the problem but her partner. With Loki, there were no such worries. Not anymore. She may be inexperienced, but he never made her feel it. He played, and he taught, and he showed her things she’d never known existed. She could place herself in his hands and know nothing but happiness.

He brought her joy. So very much joy. A joy that would last… forever.

“I love you, Loki,” she sighed, feeling it to the very depth of her soul.

The brúðr steinn warmed against her skin and drew her attention. It pulsed and pulled a gasp from her lips when the branches twisted around each other. She watched in amazement as they grew tighter, thicker, braided together and became a rope of densely packed scales. The ends which had once been links of chain holding the square pendant against the hollow of her throat became the heads of serpents while the pendant itself glowed brightly, burned with cold fire, and in a flash of finalizing magic turned into a multifaceted green jewel the size of a golf ball.

She would have stared longer, but Loki spun her around, gazing in amazement for one moment before lifting a shaking hand toward the gem. Tears ran down his face from eyes so blue they seemed as endless as the sky. They were full of his emotions; love, joy, disbelief, and such humble thanksgiving, Lauren couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

“Is… is that it?” she asked, feeling giddy and shocked all wrapped up in elation. Had she done it? Somehow, someway, had she finished the bond?

**

Loki ran his fingertip down the golden torque to the head of one serpent. Held between its fangs was a jewel he’d never imagined seeing again, the one he’d fashioned from blood and magic. The one that carried his every hope and dream. The brúðr steinn was finished and in its place sat the torque of her station with his heart stone at its center.

Flames flickered within it. A pulse which followed the beat of his heart. It was finished. Completed in a moment of quiet seduction. It was so like her to do something grand in such a simple fashion.

“Lauren…” His forehead pressed to hers as he cupped her face. “You honour me, elskan min. You humble me. You… you…” His heart was so full, he couldn't express the emotions with words, nor hold back the cascade of tears that fell from his eyes.

It had been so subtle, her final round of acceptance coming after such a traumatic start to the day. The figurative click of her light, her soul, fitting into place against his was no louder than a key turning in a lock. The writhing turmoil of darkness inside him, a battle he’d waged for so long had gone from the constant crashing of waves against a slowly eroding bluff of resistance to silence. A glassy calm lake now reflected the brightness of a full moon. The peace of it, the quiet, left him dragging in ragged breaths. Giant, shuddering breaths as the moment overwhelmed him.

“Loki?” she whispered, clinging to his shirt.

“You did it,” he finally choked out. “You did it. My beautiful, brave, magnificent woman. You did it.”

“Really?” she sobbed softly, staring at him with her stunning eyes.

“Really,” he murmured, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “You’re mine. Only mine. Forever mine.” He kissed her then, unable to believe he hadn’t yet done so, stole into her mouth and seduced her tongue into tangling with his, dancing with his, until neither could breath and broke apart with a gasp.

Her fingers lifted to her throat and hovered shakily over the heart stone. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, my love. Only yours,” he declared, deliriously happy.

He wanted to scream. Shout. Roar his triumph to the heavens. She accepted him. She loved him. She would have him. Their love would be one for the ages, a tale talked of for generations by the people of Asgard. The fastest binding ever achieved by a Dark God and his Ástvinur.

Then the reality of it all sank in.

She was his.

“Lauren,” he crooned, the sound sensual and darkly erotic. “My most cherished love.” Loki backed her into the counter where he pinned her with his hips. His hands brushed the satin from her shoulders, baring her body to his eyes as her robe fell from her suddenly limp arms. He lifted her up to sit on the blue fabric, making sure she felt every long, hard inch of what she'd done to him.

Her eyes, as dark as the gem at her throat fluttered shut on a sinful sweet moan when he began stroking her kitten-soft skin.

“I had planned, my darling, on seducing my intended tonight but now, now my heart, I shall seduce and claim my bonded Ástvinur. You are mine now, and tonight we will ascend together to Valhalla,” he pressed her back over his arm as he lowered his mouth to her breast. “Where you will reign,” he swept his tongue over the first shield, making it vanish and Lauren moan, “the queen of this dark god’s heart,” he switched to the other and treated it in kind, “forevermore.”

“Loki,” she pleaded, her hands pressed to the counter behind her.

He lifted his head and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. With his eyes blazing a solid green and the sharp angles of his face appearing hard and shadowed, his hair hanging forward to give him a dishevelled appearance, he could see what she meant by conquering War God.

But it was her radiance he focused on. She had become of Asgard with her acceptance, and while the change was subtle, those who knew her well would see it. Where before she had been stunningly beautiful, now she'd taken on a radiance that made her seem ethereal. The heart of compassion and inner light which made her the Ástvinur of a dark god now appeared on the outside as well. Before she had been a candle flickering in the dark.

Now… she was the moon.

He placed a kiss over her heart and lifted her back up to drop a second on her lips. As he held her close, he brought their heads back together and murmured softly, “As you have given me my life, I give it over to you. As you have trusted me with your heart, I vow never to break it. May the heavens open and Odin strike me down should I ever hurt you again. From this day forth, I promise to share my cup and my meat, my bed and my hearth. You shall have all you need, want, or desire, you have only to name it. What troubles you, I shall bear, and what troubles I encounter I vow to seek your counsel. For I was once lost, adrift in a world of darkness, until my light appeared.” He looked deep into her teary eyes. “And what a wondrous, glorious light she is.”

“Oh, my…” Lauren sighed. She lifted her hand to touch his lips with quiet reverence. “That was beautiful, but it sounded really formal.”

“Of course. Those are my vows, my promise to my bonded Ástvinur. I thought Midgardians had a similar ritual?” He frowned, sure of it.

“When?” she asked.

“When they finalize their union.”

She frowned back for a moment. Pondering. The little furrow between her brows ridiculously adorable before her eyes grew comically round. “Are you… do you mean… weddin’ vows? Did you just… marry me?”

“No,” he scoffed for it was so much more than that, but when she seemed to dim, lose some of that stunning brightness as if disappointed, he was quick to murmur, “Well…”

Her eyes snapped up to his, and he gathered her close. “It is more than something as simple as marriage vows. Those can be so easily broken. What we have, my darling, thanks to you is something that cannot be so easily torn asunder. I will never look at another in desire, for none can compare to you. Lying to you would be pointless as I would never do anything to jeopardize your opinion of me. While I can't say with certainty we won't have disagreements or arguments in the future, I know without a doubt when we do we will solve them together with understanding and compromise. This bond between us will grow, and our love shall be everlasting. I can't call it marriage. It is not something so simple as marriage. But yes, for ease of understanding, you are the equivalent of my wife by Asgardian standards.”

She rested against his heart, comfortable in her nudity, while the heart stone continued to relay her emotions. She was quiet, but such happiness lived inside her, he was surprised it didn't just bubble out.

When she did finally lift her head, she smiled for him, a look of such radiance it was blinding. “Guess it's a good thing my dress is white if this is my Asgardian weddin’ day.”

He chuckled, relieved she was not unhappy with this unexpected turn of events. Honestly, he'd thought it would take weeks for the final stage to be completed. He should have known better than to underestimate his Ástvinur. Still, he collected her left hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I will ask you properly one day to marry me in the Midgardian fashion as well, my sweet. But as you've insisted a weekend is not enough time for a proposal… I shall wait.”

“Oh, but I-”

He pressed his finger to her lips. “Now, darling, you are absolutely correct. Three days is much too soon,” he said, his grin coy. “We should give it at least a week.”

She giggled, parted her lips and sucked the tip of his finger into her mouth.

“Pet,” he warned softly, “the time grows short, or I would be most inclined to succumb to your whiles. Dress. I will await your company on the balcony.”

“You’re not stayin’?” She quirked a curious brow.

“Oh, my heart.” He cupped her face and used his magic to return her makeup to her former glory. “When I remove that dress from you later, I wish to be surprised. After all,” he leaned closer and pressed his lips to her ear, “this is my wedding night, too.”

He stepped reluctantly away and shifted himself magically to the balcony railing where he watched the sun set in a blaze of colours. If his heart pounded and legs shook, and he had to tighten his grip on the wood to keep from falling to his knees, he didn’t hold it against himself. It was not every day one found their heart filled with hope and joy to the point of overflowing.

Where once he had looked toward his future and seen only darkness, now he looked toward it and saw his heart’s desire. He actually saw a future. A future filled with love, light, and laughter. Children. Family.

Every day would be a new start, a fresh start, and a life he would be proud to live. A life and a love he would defend to his last breath because no one, ever, would be allowed to take it from him.

The wood beneath his fingers cracked with the strength of his grip when the shiver of foreboding raced his spine. Across the expanse of lawn, in the tops of a stand of trees, a murder of crows called to each other. It was an omen Loki would pay head to, for it was a warning… from Odin. If even the All-father could sense the impending conflict, Loki would be doubly on guard.

A storm was brewing in the air around this house, one not even Thor would be able to control, and when it broke, Loki had the distinct feeling someone’s blood would mix with the rain to soak into the ground.

Next Chapter

*Lady Fair by Francis Ledwidge

[even-strangerthings]

Wish You Were Here. Billy Hargrove imagine.

(Pictures inside of the edit are NOT mine. The edit is mine)

Warning: A lot of sadness (I’m sorry), mentions of death, cursing

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X OFC Character, Vanessa

Word count: 6,311 (It’s super long.)

A/N: Normal text is present time, italic text are flashbacks. 

Based off the song “Wish You Were Here” by Neck Deep

I had to repost this because somehow the one I posted this morning got deleted. Don’t let this flop because I worked really hard on this.

Cause a picture is all that I have to remind me that you’re never coming back

Before Vanessa and Billy had started going out he was infatuated with her, and she was infatuated with him as well. She was the happiest, most bubbly person he had ever seen. She was always so friendly to everyone, even Billy. As much as he tried to walk around school and act like he was a tough macho man, Vanessa saw through it. She was a people watcher, and she would see Billy by himself every once and a while and she could see that he had a vulnerable side. He would watch her too sometimes in class, the way she would play with the ring she wore on her middle finger during class. He would see her walk home some days after school and he wanted to offer her a ride, but he didn’t want her to reject him. She wanted to figure out what made him tick and what went on in that head of his. One day after school she had to pass through the gym to get to her P.E. locker to get something out of there, when she opened the door she saw Billy by himself on the court dribbling the basketball. She walked along the sidelines watching as he shot the ball up toward the basket, making it in the hoop. He turned to grab the ball and saw Vanessa walking, stopping what he was doing and watching her instead.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt you.”

She said, bending down to pick the ball off the ground as it rolled to her. Billy smiled cockily at her, shrugging his shoulders and began to walk over to her.

“Oh, you’re fine. You’re Vanessa, right?”

She had no idea he knew who she was, he never gave her a second look that she had noticed, so she was surprised that he knew her name. Vanessa nods her head, throwing the ball to him. Billy smiles at her, looking at her longingly.

“You have really pretty eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I could say the same about yours.”

She responds, nervously playing with her hands.

“Why are you here by yourself? It’s it easier to play basketball with another person?”

“Yeah, we can play together, if you want to.”

He says, dribbling the ball against the hardwood floor. Vanessa smiles, putting her stuff off to the side on the bleachers, tying her hair up.

“Alright Hargrove, you’re on. Let’s make it interesting why don’t we, hmm? The first one to get to let’s say… 15 points gets to pick a punishment for the other.”

The two were laughing up and down the court as they both tried to block each other’s shots and steal the ball. Vanessa had ended up getting the ball from him, both of them only needing one more point to make it to 15. She sprinted across the court, dribbling the ball, she feels herself getting picked off the ground, a pair of arms wrapping around her waist. Vanessa squeals as Billy puts her down, stealing the ball from her. He runs in the opposite direction and throws the ball, making it in the hoop with ease. Vanessa laughs, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. Billy cheers, throwing his hands up in the air in victory.

“That was a foul and you know it.”

“We never said we had to play by the rules, sweetheart. Now if I’m not mistaken, I have to pick a punishment out for you.”

He says, rubbing his hands together.

“I’m not doing anything that has to do with me getting naked, Hargrove.”

“Damn, well now I got to think of something else… I got it, you have to go on a date with me.”

He says, looking nervous for suggesting it.

“That’s not a punishment, but I would love to go on a date with you.”

Billy looks at her with wide eyes, almost in disbelief.

“Really? You really would go on a date with me?”

“Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?”

Vanessa asks, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“You don’t find me intimidating like everyone else does around here. You’ve never not smiled at me when I walk into class, or when you see me in the hallway.”

“I see through your tough boy facade, thats why. I know you put up a front for everyone here, so no, I’m not scared of you. I know there’s more to you then the hot car, hot body, and good hair.”

Billy softly smiles at her. Vanessa walks back to the bleachers and rips out a piece of paper out of her notebook, scribbling her phone number and address on it, handing it to Billy.

“Pick me up tonight at 8?”

He takes the paper and nods his head.

“I’ll see you later beautiful.”

“Looking forward to it, hermoso.”

He watches her walk away and out of his view before he jumps in the air and throws his fist in the air because he got her to go on a date with him.

Vanessa looks at her clock sitting next to her, saying that it was already 3am. She puts her notebook down after she had finished writing down the story of her and Billy’s first encounter. She looks out of her window seat in her room at the stars twinkling in the sky, her eyes were dry, impossible for anymore tears to escape her. Her chest tightened as she tried to catch her breath. She clung onto the chain of Billy’s necklace that he had given her that night, lacing it through her fingers on her right hand, the pendant resting in the palm of her hand. Vanessa missed being with Billy this late at night laying out at the school football field watching the stars and trying to point out the constellations in the sky. She missed resting her head against his chest while he would be playing with her hair, twisting random strands around his finger.

“That can be our star.”

Vanessa says, pointing to a cluster of stars in the sky.

“Which one?”

“The brightest star up in the sky right now. I’ve read about that one it’s called Vega. The story is that her parents liked the person she was with, but didn’t like how much time she spent with them, and they both started to neglect things that were important to them. So the parents arranged to separate the two by a river. They only got to spend one night a year together.”

She explained, turning onto her stomach, caressing Billy’s face. He smiles over at her quickly, looking back up at the sky. She looked at how beautiful he looked, the way the moon casted light against his soft face.

“Hmm, sounds familiar, except your parents barely tolerate me, my dad hates you, and if he had it his way he wouldn’t even let me see you once a year. I’m lucky I can sneak out of the house as often as I can to come see you.”

“Only 7 more months until we can get out of here mi corazón. And we can go to New York like we’ve been talking about.”

Vanessa says, getting up and straddling Billy’s lap, he sits up and wraps his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. She hugged him back, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers. She picked her head up and rested her forehead against his, playing with the collar of his shirt.

“Alright, that’s our star. On nights we can’t come out here and do this, I’ll look up in the sky and think of you.”

“Who knew that the keg king of Hawkins is so romantic and deep?”

Billy rolls his ocean blue eyes at her, trying to shield his smile from her.

“And if you ever tell anyone your ass is grass, Nessa.”

She laughed at him, shaking her head because she knew that she could murder someone in cold blood and he would still think she was an angel.

“Sure thing tough guy. I won’t let anybody know that you have other feelings other than being grumpy.”

“I have a question. Would you ever marry me?”

Her mouth hangs open, surprised at his question. The two of them talked about a lot of things, but marriage was something they hadn’t really touched on.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said anything… sorry.”

“No, no, no. I was just kinda blindsided because we never talked about it. But to answer your question, I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

Billy smiles is almost to big for his face once he hears her answer. He reaches over to his denim jacket and pulls something small out of his jacket pocket, playing with it in the palm of his hand.

“So, will you marry me?”

Vanessa laughs nervously, cupping her hand over her mouth.

“What? Are you serious? Billy… I didn’t know you were serious… oh my god.”

He flashes her the ring, diamonds weaved through the silver band. His hand was shaking as he held his hand out.

“It was my mom’s. One of the many things I stole from my dad after she died.”

Vanessa looks up at him, meeting his blue eyes. She laughs, hugging him again.

“I can’t believe you. You’re impulsiveness is showing hard right now.”

“Sooooo… is that a yes?”

Billy asks.

“Yes. But not until we get out to New York. That way our parents can’t stop us.”

“Trust me, nobody is going to stop me from making you my wife. I love you, with all my heart.”

Billy takes Vanessa’s left hand and slips the ring onto the fourth finger.

“I love you too, siempre mi corazón.”

“Hold the bag of peas on your face while I wash the blood out of your shirt..”

Vanessa says, handing him the frozen bag and taking his light blue shirt with her to the sink in the kitchen, filling it up with water and submerging it into the cold water to let it soak. Billy holds the peas to the skin on his face, wincing feeling the cold against his eyebrow.

“This wasn’t my fault this time, Nessa. Evan put his hands on me first so I defended myself. My mom didn’t raise no bitch.”

Vanessa holds in her laugh, rolling her eyes. She wets a rag in the running water, wringing out the excess water, walking back to Billy and wiping the half dried blood from his nose.

“I know. But you have to cool it with your temper just a little bit. I don’t want to be bailing you out of jail because you got in a fight. Let me see your face.”

Billy moves the bag of peas from his eye, surprisingly he wasn’t going to be left with a black eye, but he was going to have a nasty bruise above his eyebrow.

“Is it bad doc?”

“No, you’ll live. Maybe he Evan knocked some sense into that head of yours.”

She jokes, kissing his forehead and walking back to the sink to clean his shirt. Billy comes up behind her and rests his chin on her shoulder.

“He was talking bad about you.”

He explains, wrapping his arms around her. She rests her head against his, knowing how sensitive he was when anyone talked bad about her.

“He said that you were a nice piece of ass and that I needed to watch where you were because someone else was going to end up snagging you up. I told him to shut his mouth, he grabbed me by my jacket, so I punched him in the jaw.”

Vanessa can’t help but laugh at him, shaking her head again.

“I appreciate you defending me, but you can’t go around punching anybody who has something to say about me. If I went around and fought everyone who talked bad about you I would be fighting people all day everyday.”

“I do it because I lo… uhh.”

He picks his head up quickly, his eyes wide. Vanessa knew what he was about to say but she was just as shocked as he was.

“I um… I do it… I did what I did because I like you… I umm…”

Billy quickly walks back to the chair at the kitchen table, putting the peas back on his face. Vanessa beams hearing him almost say he loved her, she wanted to say it back but she was nervous to make the first move. She turns around and slowly walks over to him, straddling his hips.

“Oh you just like me? That’s all?”

Billy cocks his brow, taking a deep breath and taking the bag off his face again and resting it on the table. He rests his hands on her hips and licks his lips.

“Yeah, I like you a lot.”

“Hmm, that’s weird because ‘lo’ doesn’t sound like “like”. It sounds like a different word.”

She shakes her head and kisses his cheek, getting off of his lap.

“Sorry, never mind.”

Billy grabs her hand, pulling her back to him and helping her sit back on his lap.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since our first date. Obviously I couldn’t tell you that on our first date because that’s creepy, but it’s the truth. I love you, Vanessa.”

He says, cupping her face with his hands, his rings cool against her cheek. She smiles sheepishly, her cheeks turning dark red.

“I love you too, Billy.”

“I can’t believe that the girl of my dreams loves me.”

Finally Vanessa’s eyes close after hours of her tossing and turning, not being able to shake Billy from her mind. Her mom was already getting home from work and decided that Vanessa could have one more day off from school since she didn’t get any sleep. As she fell into a deep sleep, the sound of her dad getting ready in the room next to hers subsided and she drifted off to sleep.

Vanessa grabs her bag off of the floor in her room, shutting her lights off and walking into the kitchen. Both her mom and dad were sitting at the kitchen table, which was odd because her mom was usually asleep because she worked graveyard shift at the hospital in town, and her dad was getting ready to go to work.

“Good morning. Why aren’t you sleeping mom?”

She asks, leaning down to give them both a kiss on the cheek. Her mom sighs shakily, looking up at her daughter, worry written all over her face.

“Mija, I need you to sit down for a second.”

Vanessa looks at her parents with concern, slowly sinking into the chair next to her mom. Her mom grabs Vanessa’s hand, rubbing her thumb over Vanessa’s knuckles.

“When I was leaving this morning around 5, Billy was brought in by ambulance because he was in a serious car accident. His car was a mangled mess, and it took the fire department a long time to get to him because he was trapped so badly… I don’t think he’s going to make it mija. He broke a lot of his ribs, he’s bleeding internally.”

Vanessa’s heart began to race, her hands becoming clammy. Her mind was racing a mile a minute while she tried to process all the information her mom was telling her.

“They can’t go in and do surgery on him? Help him stop bleeding? They can’t do anything for him?”

“If they operated on him he would bleed out in seconds. I think it’s a good idea for you to go down there and go see him… before…”

Vanessa jumps out of the chair, grabbing her car keys and rushing out the door. She tried to keep herself together the car ride there, trying to think positively so she didn’t freak herself out. Once she got there the lady at the front desk directed her to Billy’s hospital room, she was practically sprinting to the room, she rounded a corner and saw Max standing in the hallway up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Max? Is he…”

She asked, not wanting to ask the question because she was afraid that she was too late at this point. Max’s eyes were puffy and red, dried tear marks on both sides of her cheeks.

“He’s conscious. My mom is in there right now. I can’t see him like this right now, that’s why I’m out here. He’s been asking for you though.”

“What happened?”

Vanessa asks, realizing she didn’t get the chance to ask her mom.

“He went to that girl Tina’s party and he had been drinking. He thought he was fine enough to drive but he was going too fast and took the curved road too fast. He spun out, some old lady side swiped him once he stopped spinning and pinned the car into a tree.”

Vanessa was mentally kicking herself. She told Billy he could go to Tina’s party because he wanted to go, but not without her. She insisted that she didn’t want to go and she would be fine with him going.

“I’m going to go see him, okay? I’ll be back.”

She says, giving her a tight hug. Vanessa knocks on the door lightly, hearing a female voice from inside telling her to come in. She pulls the door open, slowly walking in. Her eyes meet Susan first, then at Billy, the sight of him making her breath hitch in her throat. She turned back behind the curtain, covering her mouth with her hand, not expecting him to look as bad as he did. Tears filled her eyes almost instantly, biting her lip to suppress the sob she wanted to let out. Susan walked over to her, bringing her in for a hug.

“He’s been asking for you. He’ll be happy to see you. I’m going to go check on Maxine, and I’ll leave you two alone.”

Vanessa nodded her head, noticing that Billy’s father wasn’t in the room.

“Susan, where’s Neil?”

“He’s meeting with people from the funeral home, he wanted to get things ready early.”

Susan saw the displeasure in her face that his own father wasn’t here to say goodbye to his son, and quickly exited the room. Vanessa took deep breaths and walked back past the curtain, looking at how small he looked in the bed.

“Billy?”

His head moved toward her, his face not even looking like his face because it was so disfigured by the cuts and bruises on it.

“Hey beautiful.”

He croaks out, trying to sit up. Vanessa rushes over to him, trying to help him lay back down.

“Hey, you can’t be doing all that. You’re fragile now. They told me you crashed your baby?”

“Yeah, don’t remind me, I’m pissed. Totalled my fucking car.”

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling. Vanessa sat next to him in the chair, taking his hand into hers. Tears began to fall from her eyes, realizing this was going to have to be her goodbye to him. He looks over at her, squeezing her hand weakly.  

“They told you I’m on my way out huh?”

“Yeah, my mom told me… I thought that if I ever had to do this we’d be like 90 years old.”

She stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to swallow the lump in her throat so she could speak.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this Billy. How am I just supposed to let you go, I didn’t have you as long as I wanted with you.”

“I’m sorry, Nessa. I really am. Fuck baby I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I screwed up everything.”

They both openly sobbed, looking each other in the eyes.

“My medal. Bring it to me?”

Pointing his finger over to the corner of the room where there was a bag full of clothes. Vanessa got up off the chair, wiping tears from her eyes as she dug through the bag until she found the chain with the pendant on it. She walks back to Billy, placing it in his hand.

“No, I want you to have it. To remember me by.���

“Billy, I can’t. It was your mom’s. You should be bu… you should take it with you.”

He shakes his head.

“What good is it going to do me? I want you to have it. As long as you have it, I know that you’ll be safe. It kept me safe up until this morning… but I guess my mom missed me too much and wants me to come home. I want you to do good in your life, babe.”

“Billy…”

She sobs, not wanting to have this conversation with him.

“Vanessa, listen to me please. I don’t want you to dwell on this forever, I want you to go out and enjoy your life, meet someone else, start a good life with them, make sure they treat you like a queen because it’s what you deserve. I’m going to be watching over you, I won’t be far away from you, ever okay? Thank you for giving a piece of shit like me a chance to be with someone as beautiful and wonderful as you. My mom would have loved you, I know it.”

He lifted his arm high enough to reach for her face to wipe the tears away.

“I love you Vanessa. With all of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you too Billy. Mi corazón.”

She stared at his face as his long eyelashes began to close for longer periods of time. Her vision became more and more blurry as they filled with tears. She knew he was hurting, and she wished she could stop the pain in his body. Billy blinked one last time, his eyes remaining shut. She watched the monitor on the other side of his bed as the beeping slowed.

“I love you.”

She repeated over and over again, rocking back and forth in the chair. She felt one last squeeze of Billy’s hand before the beeping flatlined. Violent sobs emerged through her body once he was gone, covering her face with the sleeves of her jacket. The door opened, 2 nurses walking in and checking his pulse. Vanessa felt someone wrapping themselves around her, patting her back. She removed her hands from her face to see Max’s red hair in her line of sight, low sobs coming from her too.

“Come on girls, let’s get some air.”

Susan says, wiping tears from her own eyes. Max stands up first, sinking into her mom’s side as Susan helps Vanessa out of the chair.

“I’m going to call my mom. I don’t think I can drive back home right now.”

“Okay, Maxine, honey walk with her.”

Max follows her to the desk on the floor, asking one of the nurses if she could use the phone. Her mom answers and tells her she’ll be there right away to pick her up. Max waits with her out in the parking lot until Vanessa’s mom drives up, both of them hugging each other the whole time.

“Will you call me once you find out details about the funeral?”

Max nods her head, waving as the car drives off. Vanessa’s mom pulls out of the parking lot only to pull into the parking lot next to it, holding her as her daughter cries.

Her eyes open frantically, her body quickly launching up from the mattress. She looks around her room, realizing she was all alone.

“Fuck. Get it together Vanessa. Pull yourself together, you can’t do this to yourself.”

She says to herself, rubbing her eyes.

Vanessa sat in the car in the parking lot of the cemetery for the first time since the funeral. She had been staring at the entrance for almost 20 minutes trying to work up the courage to get out of the car, but she couldn’t figure out how to move her limbs. She saw red hair, the all too familiar red hair of Billy’s step sister riding her skateboard through the parking lot and toward the entrance. Finally Vanessa had snapped out of her mood and opened the car door.

“Max!”

She yelled out, running to her to catch up. Max hopped off the skateboard, turning around to see Vanessa, a smile appearing on her face.

“Hey you. Long time no see.”

Vanessa says, hugging the girl.

“Yeah, I go straight home after school, my mom and Neil freak out if I’m a minute late. How… how are you?”

Max asks, her demeanor changing. Vanessa sighs, not even sure herself of how she was having one of her bad days or one of her even worse days.

“I’m… getting through it. Slowly. I’m hoping that me coming here helps with things. Maybe we can get through this together?”

Max nods her head. Vanessa wraps her arm around Max’s shoulder and walks with her through the cemetery, talking about how school was going and how things at home were going. They reach the row Billy was located at, both of them going silent as they walked past the random headstones in the row until they reached his. It had only been a month so he didn’t have a headstone yet, only a plastic plaque that read:

“William Hargrove. November 15 1968 - March 20th, 1986.”

There were still flowers on the mound of dirt from the funeral sitting there. Vanessa’s eyes well up with tears, choking back tears as she stares at the grave. She hears Max sniffle next to her, Max taking a seat next to the top of the grave.

“We might have had our problems, and I might have told him how much of a dick he was, but him and I had good times, occasionally. I still loved and cared about him.”

Max says, looking up at Vanessa. Vanessa sits next to her, rubbing her nails up and down Max’s back comforting her.

“I know, I saw him be nice to you a few times. He cared about you, deep, deep down he did. He just had an awful way of showing it.”

She laughs softly, pulling her knees into her chest.

“It’s not fair. He knew he shouldn’t have been driving while he drank, but he did. If he hadn’t gone to the party that night he would still be here. If I would have just went with him he would still be…”

Vanessa trailed off, the lump in her throat making it hard for her to continue. She sobbed harshly, wiping her tears with the sleeves of the sweater that used to belong to Billy. Max looks at her sympathetically, tears filling her eyes as well.

“I’ve been writing about him a lot. Like about our good memories and stuff, my mom said it should help me with grieving, but I feel like it’s only making it worse. I had a flashback to the day he died. I didn’t think we would only have a short time together. I thought we still had forever. We had so much planned Max. He wanted to marry me. I told him yes, but not until we graduated. We wanted to move to New York after we had road tripped there last summer. Ugh, I’m sorry.”

Vanessa says, holding the fabric against her eyes to soak up the tears.

“At least you have those memories with him. If you ever start to miss him you can just think about all the good times you had together. Your memories of him won’t ever fade.”  

Max says, now comforting Vanessa. She nods her head at her, wiping more tears from her eyes. The girls sit in silence, the wind blowing through their hair.

“Neil has been pissed since the funeral. I can hear him yelling at my mom some nights. He’ll throw things around the living room or their bedroom, he’ll tell her that if it wasn’t for his screw up of a son that he wouldn’t have had to transfer out here and he wouldn’t be in a hole in the ground.”

Vanessa bites the inside of her cheek, trying her hardest not to get angry over what Max is telling her.

“Does he ever yell at you? Because if he does you need to tell me. I won’t let him do what he did to Billy for so many years.”

Max had no idea about Neil beating the shit out of Billy like clockwork, but that was because he would do it when Max wasn’t around. She didn’t know until she saw a huge cut on Billy’s back from his dad throwing him up against the full length mirror Billy had in his room, shards of glass breaking into his skin. Max had called Vanessa telling her to get over to their house because he was hurt. Billy finally told Max all about the abuse he had been suffering since he was 7.

“No he usually waits to blow up until I’m asleep. Or until he thinks I’m asleep. Neil boxed up Billy’s stuff the day of the funeral and he started to throw away the stuff that had to do with you and Billy.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes, she knew how much Neil disliked her even though he never said it to her face. He was nice to her face, too nice where Vanessa felt like he was coming off fake. Billy would relay the things that his dad had said about her while his dad argued with Billy about breaking up with her. The more Billy had refused the more Neil would talk negatively about her, especially about her ethnic background. Vanessa was somewhat immune to hearing it because growing up in a predominately white, republican community, with parents who were more comfortable talking in spanish than in english, she heard her fair share of comments in her lifetime.

“I managed to get a lot of the stuff out of the trash though. I have pictures, mixtapes you made him, letters you had written him. I’ve been wanting to give them to you, but I haven’t seen you.”

“Really? Thank you so much Max. I really appreciate that. How about we go into town and get a bite to eat, and I’ll drive you home?”

Max smiles softly, nodding her head. She says her goodbyes to Billy, leaving Vanessa by herself to say hers. Vanessa stands up, cleaning the dirt off herself.

“I’ll see you later mi amor. Come visit me in my dreams later please. I love you.”

The sun had started to come down by the time Max and Vanessa had gotten out of the diner. She drove along the street to Billy’s house for the first time since he had passed away. If her grip on the steering wheel wasn’t so tight she knew that her hands would be shaking at this point. She pulls up to the white house, parking in the street. It made her heart hurt that the blue Camaro wasn’t parked in its usual place. Max ran into the house to retrieve Billy’s belongings for her, Vanessa obviously not feeling comfortable enough to go in the house for more reasons that one. A minute or two later Max comes back out of the house with a small box in her hand. Vanessa gets out of her car and meets her halfway up the walkway.

“I know it’s not much that I managed to save but…”

“This is more than I thought I was ever going to get. Thank you so much Max. I’m going to head out, but if you ever need anything from me, you have my number, you know where I live, and you know that I’ll be there for you for whatever, okay?”

She gives Max a tight hug before saying bye to her and walking back to her car and driving off. The box sat in the passenger side seat on the way back to her house. Her dad greeted her once she got inside telling her that dinner was almost ready. She went up to her room and started to take things out of the box one by one. There were polaroid pictures scattered around on the bottom of the box, a few of Billy’s favorite books, 2 mixtapes she had made for him, some of his rings that were way too big to fit, but she would just keep them in her jewelry box. Max had managed to sneak in 2 of Billy’s t-shirts that still smelled like him, his cologne, and his silver lighter. Max was definitely going to get a call later thanking her for putting this stuff aside for her. She pulled out one of pictures from the bottom of the box that was of herself smelling a flower that Billy had given her for her birthday. On the white part of the picture he had scribbled “Beautiful girl, beautiful flower.” The next one she picked out was of the engagement ring he had given to her. And the last one was one that Vanessa had taken in the school parking lot. He was in his denim jacket and denim jeans, a look she was always a fan of, with his signature cigarette between his lips. “Mi corazón. December ‘85 written in her handwriting. Vanessa had a copy as well so she was glad that she now had 2. The other two made Vanessa blush because they were such intimate pictures that she was embarrassed Max had to see. She taped the pictures on the wall next to others that were already there. It was going to take a long time to forget about the love of her life, but she was glad she had some things to remember him by.

It was the first night in a month that she had actually fallen asleep without crying. She didn’t struggle at all, and she was relieved because she desperately needed it. Once she fell into a deep sleep she noticed she was in Billy’s car in the passenger seat. She looked over at him and smiled at Billy, throwing her arms around his neck, laughing and crying in disbelief. She couldn’t make out where the car was parked exactly, but she knew for sure it wasn’t Hawkins.

“Oh my god. You’re here. You’re really here.”

Vanessa wept, her hands cupping around his face, bringing their foreheads close to each other. Billy smiles and kisses her nose.

“Only for a little while babe. I came to see you because I saw you at the cemetery with Max. And I know you’ve been having a hard time letting go.”

He responds, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“I can’t help it, I miss you. This wasn’t part of our plan, Billy. We were supposed to get out of Hawkins together, I’m not supposed to go by myself.”

Vanessa cries. Billy sighs, hugging her into his chest once again, softly shushing her.

“It’s time you move on, baby. You can’t mourn over me forever.”

“I have to go on living the rest of my life without you, without going through with the stuff we had planned for our lives. How am I supposed to do that?”

Billy touches the pendant on the necklace that used to be his resting against her chest.

“I’ll always be here for you when you’re going through a hard time. As long as you have this I’ll always be close to your heart. That’s why I gave this to you. My mom told me the same thing before she passed. You might physically go through your life without me, but I’ll always be with you. When you graduate next month, when you go off to college in New York, when you get married one day and have beautiful babies, I’ll be there watching over you.”

“It’s not the same. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I’m not going to be able to see your face everyday, hug you, smell your cologne, hear your voice, have you annoy me everyday.”

Vanessa was full on sobbing at this point, a lump in her throat forming throughout every word she speaks. She didn’t want to let go of this moment, she wished she could stay in his arms forever because that’s where she belonged.

“Stop crying, baby girl. Look at the bright side, I’m not hurting anymore. My dad can’t hurt me anymore.”

Her body shakes with her loud hiccup. His grey shirt was soaked from her tears, she could feel his finger twirling around her hair, his other hand rubbing circles around the back of her arm.

“Why did you have to be driving so fast that night? Why did you have to be drinking?”

She asks through her cries, she picks her head up and looks into his eyes, sorrow filling them.

“I’m an idiot, that’s why. I knew I shouldn’t have been, but I thought I was good, my house was only a mile away… I didn’t see the curved road sign. I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry I put you through all this heartbreak.”

“Te amo siempre mi corazón.”

Billy smiles and kisses her lips.

“You know, I was right. My mom loves you.”

“I’m glad. I can’t wait to meet her one day. She did a good job raising you.”

Vanessa says, running her hand over Billy’s cheek.

“I’m going to go now, okay? No more crying. I’ll come by and see you every once and a while.”

Vanessa nods her head and smiles, kissing him one last time before she wakes up. She sits up in bed and touches the necklace around her neck.

“I love you Billy.”

[equalstrashflavoredtrash]

The Mighty Pine - 2

PART 1 - PART 3

a/n: I hope everyone has as much fun reading this as i did writing it!

@beautifulramblingbrains @frecklefaceb @feminamortem @anditcametopass @dauntlessmetalmom @pathybo @mimigemrose @ag-delights @abfoster1s @sparklemichele @jojuarez26 @purple-puddin @audreyfulquard @sharknadoslut @societalfailure @insertamazingwords @megnificent07 @roslea @james-k-delaney @ombrophiliax @funkycloudplop [if you wanna be on the list hmu]

Warning: drinking and people getting frisky!

Captain Boomerang X OFC // Suicide Squad // Lumberjack AU

word count: 5,265

With a yawn you closed the door to the small bedroom behind you while you tugged at the waist of your skirt, adjusting so it rested comfortably on your hips. Wandering into the dingle, you followed the sound of your aunt singing to herself and crossed the wooden planks on the floor, stopping by the stove to hold out your hands to warm them by the cast iron as you hummed along.

"Look who decided to join us!" Rosemary teased, peering over her shoulder from the prep counter where she stood. "Go make yourself useful and show Digger how to peel potatoes. He can't do it without taking half the flesh with the skin." Looking to the other side of the room you noticed the man seated on a small, three legged stool, grumbling over the waste bin next to a basket full of spuds. After pulling on an apron, you grabbed another stool sitting down to join him him, taking a moment to watch what he was doing. It wasn't long before you began to spot his mistakes.

"Here, let me show you." Reaching forward you placed your hands over his. "You want to hold the knife like this with your fingers," you explained as you adjusted his grip. "Then when you cut, you want to curl your fingers in as you pull your wrist back, trying to just run the blade along the surface. You're peeling, not cutting." You couldn't help but notice how your hands seemed minuscule in comparison to his, just barely covering the back of his as you demonstrated the movements.

You were more than aware of how close you sat next to him, letting your arms overlap his as you corrected his technique. Without prompting, Digger leaned to the side, dropping his head so his lips you could make contact with your neck. You flushed as he unabashedly scattered kisses along your throat, taking full advantage of the fact that your aunt had her back turned.

"Stop," you hissed as his stubble continued to scratch your skin. He finally pulled back, smirking at your flushed cheeks before returning to peeling. The pair of you sat in silence as you worked. You didn't have to look to know he was watching you, you could almost feel his gaze as he studied the way you handled the spuds, quickly removing the skin and tossing it into the basket before reaching for a new one.

Digger moved at a slower pace, taking about twice as long compared to you. Between each one, as he reached for a new potato, Digger would lift his hand to his mouth, biting at his palm. You knew he had a habit of chewing his nails, but this was different.

"What's wrong with your hand?" you finally ask after he raised it for the fifth time.

"Nothing," he grumbled, dropping his fist as he held the knife, "Just a splinter. It'll find its way out soon enough."

"Come with me," you sighed rolling your eyes as you stood, grabbing his wrist so he'd follow. You crossed the dingle to your room, noting that your aunt was distracted. Once inside, you reached into the dresser pulling out a small woven basket filled with neatly arranged sewing supplies. Unearthing a sharp needle you turned to Digger with your hand out, "Let me see."

He eyed you and the needle between your fingers before questioning, "And what are yeh gon' do?"

"I'm going to pull the splinter out, it won't hurt. At least not as much as it will if it gets infected and they have to chop your hand off." You smiled coyly to yourself as the threat seemed to work. He hesitantly lifted his arm, resting his hand in yours, palm up.

You stepped closer to him and the light from the small window, examining the small dark line buried under the skin. The sliver of wood had found it's way into the softer part of his palm that wasn't covered in thick callouses. Gently poising the tip of the needle, you pushed it into the skin, keeping it shallow as you got under the splinter. Digger winced slightly as you pivoted the small piece of metal, pushing the foreign object halfway out from under the skin. Using your fingernails, you pinched the end of wood and easily removed it.

"There, all better," you stated with a smile, leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on the wound before spinning around to return the needle to the pin cushion. While your back was turned, Digger took the opportunity to step in, placing his hand on your hips and bringing you against his chest. You let out a surprised squeak as you looked up to find him with a sly grin hiding under his facial hair.

"Thanks for the care, doc. Any way I can return the favor?" He leaned in, stepping forward so you were pressed between him and the dresser. You could feel his thumbs drawing small circles on your back through your shirt as he brought his mouth closer to your ear, "Any aches I can relieve for yeh?"

You bit your lip, fighting back your reply because you knew it would not come out as coherent words. You wanted to tell him no, there was nothing he could do for you since you knew this is what you should say - what your Aunt Jo expected you to say. But what you really wanted was for him to hold you tighter. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to do, even though you weren't sure exactly what that was. You wished beyond reason that you were back with him in the shadowy eaves of the grange hall balcony.

Thinking of the way he had pushed his thigh between your legs as his mouth moved across the skin of your neck still made your stomach flip. Shifting to stand on your toes, you closed the distance between your lips and his.

The edge of the dresser dug into your ribs as he pushed himself harder against you, parting his mouth to take your bottom lip between his. You could feel him groan, his hands gripping your waist tighter while you raised your arm and buried your fingers into his muttonchops.

"Lunch ready yet?" You heard your uncle yell in the dingle, the sound traveling through the door you'd left ajar. You gasped as you pulled back, looking at Digger wide eyed. It was obvious by now that both your aunt and uncle would have noticed the pair of you were not tending to the potatoes as expected. Pushing Digger away, you frantically straightened your blouse, panicking about how suspicious it would look when you two stepped out from your private room together.

"Sorry!" you called out as you left the room, Digger following behind you, "I was helping Digger get a splinter out."

You looked from your uncle to your aunt who stood at opposite ends of the common area. Phil quickly accepted the answer, nodding as he returned to stacking new logs by the stove. Rosemary had a much more skeptical look about her but said nothing on the matter, simply telling you two to finish up peeling the potatoes.

The pair of you worked in silence, running your knives along the edge of the vegetables, removing the skin as you stole glances at each other. After your uncle left with the pack of lunches for the men by the river you began with slicing the potatoes as your aunt instructed. Digger was sent off to tend to the horses in the stable. Once he left you felt like you could breathe easier, not continuously worried about him doing something inappropriate while your aunt's back was turned.

A little while later you heard the door slam. Glancing over your shoulder to the entrance while Rosemary stayed focus on dicing the meat, you watched Digger stomp into the dingle.

"Oi, Mignon," Digger barked as he crossed the room, pulling off his gloves and standing behind you. "Got another splinter, can you get this?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes before setting down the knife and wiping your hands on your apron, ignoring the way Rosemary laughed to herself. Once in your room you pulled out the sewing needle and held out your hand as you had before, asking, "Show me where it is."

He raised his arm, wrapping his finger around your wrist before drawing your hand down so your palm rested on his upper thigh. "Right about here," He smirked as he watched your eyes go wide in reaction. You quickly snapped your hand back to your chest after he let go, blushing at the fact that you had touched him in such a spot.

"Don't be rude!" you hissed at him as you moved to slap his chest. You had forgotten that you were holding the needle as you brought your hand forward. Digger yelped as the point pricked his skin through the layers of his shirts.

"That hurt!" Digger emoted as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, revealing more of his hairy chest to inspect the injury. There was a small drop of blood but nothing to worry about. You couldn't help but blush as he revealed more skin.

Glinting in the light, you noticed the chains he wore tucked under his shirts. You had always assumed they were for a religious pendant but now you could see there was two thick gold chains resting around his neck.

"Wow," you murmured as you reached forward, running your fingers along the cuban links. The most expensive jewelry you'd ever seen belonged to Josephine and you were forbidden from touching it, but still you could tell by looking that his necklaces were not cheap. "Where did you get these?" you asked looking up as you ran a finger along the smooth gilded metal.

"It doesn't mattah," Digger replied quickly, pulling his shirt collar up to hide the chains. Furrowing your brows, you wonder vaguely why he was so dismissive of the subject but ultimately figured it wise to not press him.

You followed him back to the main area to find Hank warming his hands by the stove. Even though he didn't have a delivery to make, he traveled all the way back to camp to give you a ride into town as he promised. Quickly you scurried off to gather your things, knowing he'd want to leave as soon as possible. The whole time you tried to ignore Digger's sour expression.

Arriving at your Aunt Josephine's house was always a relief. You felt like you could breathe easier when you were there. Walking through the front doors you shrugged off your jacket, hearing the sounds of Jo conversing with someone in the parlor. Quickly dusting and straightening your skirt, you stepped into the side room to say hello.

"We were just talking about you," your aunt commented with a smile as she sipped at her tea, "Of course you remember my good friend, Mrs. Pottings," she introduced with a nod as you smiled at the visitor. You had a vague idea of who she was but had no real connection to her.

"It's such a pleasure to see you," you replied giving a warm smile as you stood on the threshold with your hands clasped in front of you.

"Mildred was just telling me about her grandson, Jacob," Josephine mentioned as she set her teacup down, catching your attention.

"He really is such a sweet boy," Mrs Pottings added, "He's on track to be one of the best lawyers in Boston."

"Oh, is that so?" You you replied politely, trying to keep your expression even.

"He's currently looking for a wife..." Josephine stated, catching your eye. Pursing your lips, you tried your utmost to remain passive though you could easily see what your aunt was trying to do.

"Well, I wish him the best of luck in his search," you replied with a kind smile, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to get to." Before either of them could respond you turned on your heel and climbed the stairs.

That night at dinner your aunt had been vehement, "Jacob is exactly the type of boy you should be pursuing."

"Please, Auntie Jo, can we talk about anything else?" you begged as you pushed the food around your plate with your fork, suddenly losing your appetite.

"I've already arranged for him to visit and have dinner here next Saturday," she declared as you looked to her, wided eyed and letting your jaw drop. "I don't know why you're acting so surprised. You were making no efforts to find a spouse so I took matters into my own hands," she spoke casually as she cut apart her slice of meat into small bite-size pieces, not making eye contact as you sat next to her completely still.

"What if I like someone else?" you blurted out suddenly, finally catching her attention.

"What?" she asked incredulously, pausing to look up at you, "Who?"

"His name's Digger- I mean, George," The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them, "I like him, and he likes me."

"And how did you meet this Digger?" Josephine asked, setting down her silverware to cup her hands in front of her.

"I met him up at camp," you explained, avoiding eye contact as you blushed, slightly ashamed of what you were admitting. "He likes me and I like him."

"Does he intend to marry you or is he like the other men in the camp who would prefer just a good night with you?" Your blood boiled at her insinuations. You didn't know what Digger wanted from you but the way she posed her questions made you feel worthless.

"He cares for me, and I care for him," you reiterated as you stared at your dinner plate, fighting back the angry tears that burned your eyes as they threatened to spill forward. Biting your lip, you struggled to keep your bitter remarks to yourself. Suddenly you stood, the legs of the chair scraping across the wood floor as you moved. "I am finished eating," you announced, before turning to leave the dining room. "Thank you for the meal." Dropping your napkin on the table you turned away, briskly exiting through the door and hurrying to your bedroom.

It was another restless night, though you were plagued by anxious thoughts rather than amorous ones. At some point in the early morning you managed to fall asleep, even if it was just for a few hours. When the sun rose you were still upset with your aunt and ignored her when she called your name from the kitchen while you fled out the front door. Truding through the quickly melting snow, you made your way into town. Turning the corner after the grocery store you climbed the back stairs to the apartment on the second floor and knocked on the door.

Addie had grown up next door to you and was the closest friend you'd ever had. When she lived with her family you two spent all of your time together but unfortunately since she married last spring and moved to town with her husband, the pair of you hadn't been able to see each other much.

Addie couldn't help but grin when she found it was you knocking at the door. She eagerly invited you into the small apartment. While you took a seat at the kitchen table, Addie put a kettle on the stove, requesting an update on your life. With a heavy sigh you began to recount the day before and your aunt's decisions about your future.

"Why not marry him?" Addie questioned as the kettle began to whistle. "If he's a lawyer in Boston he's probably well off. You'd be set."

"I realize that," you replied with another sigh, as she rose to get the hot water. "The thing is, I like someone else." Addie placed a cup in front of you. Keeping your eyes down you raised the spoon, swirling the water and herbs. "She'd never approve of him though, he works up at the camp."

"Does he like you?" Lifting the cup to her lips Addie took a drink as she watched, noticing the small smile that was dancing on your lips as you considered her question.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he does," you mumbled, blushing before you continued. "Remember at the social when you came to get me from the attic?" Addie nodded, following what you were recalling. "I wasn't alone then, he was there with me." Now it was Addie's turn to grin.

"You were alone with him in the dark?" Biting your lip you gave a sheepish nodd. "And what were you doing with him?"

"Just kissing!" you squeaked, sitting up right and blushing as she gave you a sly look.

"Yes, but you know what kissing leads to..." she teased, lifting her cup to take a sip.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." You scratched the back of your neck nervously before asking, "What does kissing lead to?"

Addie nearly choked on her tea at your question. Sputtering, she lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she coughed. Pulling a handkerchief from the cuff of her sleeve she wiped at her lips once she had caught her breath.

"You've never fooled around with anyone?" she was incredulous when she asked, looking at you wide eyed. "What about Jonathan? Didn't you go out with him?"

"Yeah," you sighed, playing with the spoon in your hand. "We went out a few times and he tried to kiss me, but he stopped himself because he was too scared of Auntie Jo." You exhaled again before continuing, noticing the way Addie raised her brow in curiosity. "After the second time he took me on a date he walked me up the steps afterwards and while we stood on the porch saying good night, he leaned in to kiss me. That's when Jo snapped the door open, talking about how late it was. He took off pretty quick and never asked me out again."

"So, your Aunt chased off any boy that looked at you, but now she constantly nags you about getting married."

"That's pretty much the gist of it."

"Do you want to marry the guy up at camp?" You looked up at Addie, surprised by her query. It was something that you hadn't really considered.

"It would never happen, Josephine wouldn't have it and I don't think he's the type to settle down." You felt downtrodden by the sudden reality of the situation. Addie immediately felt bad for the situation you were stuck in and tried everything in her power to distract and cheer you up. Once she had run out of jokes and the pair of you'd finished folding the laundry, she decided to go out. The local pub was only a few blocks away and she was sure that a few glasses of wine would help your mood.

"We don't have to talk to anyone," she said while you made your way down the sidewalk, hopping over the puddles from the melted snow. "I like to just get a bottle of cheap red and a booth in the back and just watch everyone else. Sometimes when I'm with Eddie, we make up backstories for people, just guessing what they're like."

"Really?" you asked with a chuckle, walking alongside her.

"Yeah it's actually very fun," she insisted while reaching for the door to the bar and holding it open for you.

You couldn't help but admit that she was right. Going out and drinking with Addie had done wonders to lift your mood. The pair of you sat in a back booth laughing at the stories you dreamt up together as you watched everyone else in the room. The time flew by as you enjoyed yourself, regularly refilling your glass.

"Ok, ok," Addie began, trying to stifle her laughter, "You see the guy over to the left? Sitting alone with two glasses on the table?" You shifted in your seat, looking over your shoulder, following to where she pointed. "I bet he's a widower who buys a second drink every night, hoping someone will sit and join him but every girl sees the second glass and thinks he has a date so they never approach him." You couldn't help but grin as you spotted the man she was describing.

"Oh, I know for a fact you're wrong." Turning to face her you lifted your own wine glass and took a sip, "That's Jean-Claude." You weren't surprised she hadn't realized who he was, Addie had never spent time at the lumber camp, and most of the men there rarely traveled into town except for big socials or other get-togethers where they could find company for the night.

"That's Jean-Claude?" she repeated, surprised by the truth. "But he's handsome. You never told me he was young."

Only half paying attention to Addie, you looked back, wondering exactly why he would be in town. You almost got up to go talk to Jean-Claude when someone sat down to join him. Instantly your head snapped forward and you moved further into the booth.

"What's wrong?" Addie asked, shocked by your sudden reaction.

"Jean-Claude, that guy, look who just joined him!" you hissed, quickly throwing back the last remnants of wine in your glass. You could feel the heat in your face, burning in your cheeks, positive you looked like a tomato.

"Yeah, and?" Addie was obviously still confused as she looked between you and the two men sitting across the room.

"That's Digger," you added. "That's the guy from camp."

Addies eyes went wide as the realization washed over her, "The guy you were alone with in the dark?" You shook your head, nodding frantically as she smirked. "I'm going to go say 'hi'."

You nearly jumped out of your seat as your reached for Addie's wrist, stopping her in her tracks. With a roll of her eyes she relented and sat back down.

"Fine, I won't," she obliged with a sly smile you couldn't miss. "...But only because he noticed and is coming over."

"How'er you girls doin'?" Digger asked as he stopped next to your booth, leaning on the back of your seat. You didn't have to look at him to know he was staring at you.

"You must be Digger," Addie said as he held her hand out to him. "I'm Mignon's friend, she's told me all about you." You wanted to crawl under the table and hide as he shook her hand.

"Is that so?" he pressed as he pushed his way onto the bench seat, forcing you to move closer to the wall to make space for him. He set down his stein and reached for the bottle, filling both your's and Addie's glasses. "And what's she said then?"

"Oh no, that's between us," Addie baited as you lifted your glass taking a drink. "Don't worry it's nothing bad." Digger shifted in his seat, lifting an arm to rest along the back of the booth behind you as he took a sip.

"JC's just went out paying off some gambling debts." Digger shrugged as he finished his drink, his fingers hanging down so they just barely brushed along your shoulder. "That's why we're in town," he turned his head, looking directly at you, "We're heading back t'camp tonight, if yeh care to join us."

You flustered for a moment under his attention before you realized just what he was offering. Excited to get away from your Aunt Jo, you jumped at the opportunity. Addie rolled her eyes but eventually agreed to cover for you. Satisfied with your choice, Digger whistled for the waitress and ordered another bottle of wine.

The night progressed while the three of you joked and refilled your glasses regularly. You were enjoying yourself and barely noticed as Digger's arm slowly dropped, resting on your shoulders, drawing you closer to him. Addie saw what he was doing and couldn't help but giggle at the sight of you nearly sitting in his lap when Jean-Claude finally returned.

"Enchanté." The quebecois greeted, kissing the back of Addie's hands after being introduced. "I would love to get to know you, but I'm afraid we should leave," he explained, looking to Digger. "It is quite late already and it is a long ride back to camp."

Exiting the booth, Digger shifted to the side as he dropped his arm, slipping his hand into yours and lacing your fingers together. Following suit you scooted over until you could stand. You couldn't fight the smile on your lips as you looked back at your friend, who quickly jumped up from her seat.

"Next time you're kissing, try biting his earlobe," she whispered to you, "Then run your hand up his thigh and touch him. Trust me, that'll work." She pulled back giving you a wink as you followed Digger out the door, hurrying to move next to him and wrapping your free hand around his elbow.

"You two will ride in the back," Jean-Claude explained as he unhitched the horse and climbed onto the driver's seat, "There's not room for three up here."

Rounding the back of the carriage Digger turned to you, encircling your waist with his fingers before hoisting you up and into the cart. Giggling, you stumbled slightly before falling onto the hay. The bales were stacked so most of the weight was forward in the cart, creating a small wall between the pair of you and Jean-Claude. Knowing that he couldn't see you, Digger shouted once he was seated and cart jerked as it was pulled forward, bouncing with the steady rhythm of the horse's gait.

Digger smirked as he watched you, holding your gaze, causing goose bumps without even touching you. You bit your lip as you leaned forward tentatively, narrowing the gap between you and him. He slid his arm around your waist, bringing you nearer to him as the carriage bumped over a root.

You couldn't help but moan into the warm contact of his lips. One of his hands slid down your side before resting on your hip, tugging you forward and lifting your leg across his. You reeled in embarrassment, straddling his lap in such a provocative way, but as you moved your head away he took the opportunity to pepper your neck with kisses and you relented into his touch. Caught in a drunken haze you found yourself following his lead, rolling your hips into his while his hands squeezed your ass, pulling your center closer.

Remembering Addie's advice you leaned in, wrapping one hand around his neck as you kissed at the corner of his jawbone before taking the soft flesh of his earlobe between your lips. Tugging at his ear, you couldn't help but grin as you felt the rumble of a groan through his chest. Motivated by the success of Addie's first suggestion, you eagerly dropped a hand between your abdomen and his, sliding your palm south across his middle until your grasp rested on his crotch. Brazenly, and influenced by the wine, you flexed your hand and massaged his groin as you leaned back biting your lip.

It didn't take long for Digger to respond. Impatiently he undid the buttons to your blouse popping them open to reveal your breast, covered by only a thin camisole to the cold air. You couldn't help but moan as he kneaded your soft flesh, humming as he took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth through the soft cotton fabric.

"Digger," you hissed as you dug your nails into the back of his scalp while trying to remain quiet, still very aware of how close Jean-Claude was. Digger ran a hand along your thigh, pushing your skirt so it bunched against your waist as your arm tightened around his neck. His thumb rubbed along your leg, slowly moving closer to your apex while teasing at the skin just past the hem of your bloomers. Nervously you curled forward, responding to the electric feeling of his fingers against your sensitive skin. Bowing your head into the crook of his neck, you rolled your hips into his touch.

Gently he ran his thumb over your clit in a swift motion that caused your whole body to jerk in response. With a satisfied grin he began to kiss and pull at the skin between your shoulder and neck while he let his fingers drifted nearer to your center. You clung to him as he touched you in a way no one ever had before. It felt like your skin was on fire, unaffected by the cold breeze as it passed. You moved with the rhythm of the bouncing carriage, pushing your hips against Digger's fingertips as they slid past your clit, hovering around your entrance.

Digger paused for a second, drinking in the moment. He had wanted you since he first laid eyes on your form from across the dingle. He watched as you helped your aunt cook while he played cards, quickly asking Jean-Claude what your name was after. It had taken him sometime to catch your attention but he never relented and it seemed his efforts had paid off. He smiled inwardly at the sight of you sitting in his lap with your legs spread, quivering at his every touch.

Eagerly he slid a single finger inside of you, watching as you squirmed at the sensation. Digger smiled as he leaned forward, kissing your breastbone, enjoying the warmth of your wet walls before slowly drawing his finger back and pushing it in again, deeper than before. You couldn't help but gasp as his digit moved along your inner walls. Slowly beginning to savor the feeling, you unabashedly rolled your hips against his hand.

Without warning, Digger pushed a second finger into you. Biting your lip, you whined at the addition, suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight.

"Relax," his low voice whispered into your ear as he continued to move his hand. Balling his shirt in your fists, you leaned forward excitedly capturing his mouth with yours. There was a foreign feeling stirring within your core. A tension building somewhere behind your stomach that'd you never felt before. Digger's touch did nothing but stoke this fire.

He shifted his wrist, raising his thumb to press against your clit as his rocked his hand back and forth. You gasped into his mouth at the sudden stimulus while he took advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue past your lips. You found it hard to focus on anything as Digger played with your bud of nerves, the new feeling inside of you building to a breaking point.

With a small cry you crumpled into him as something released. Falling limp, you held onto his shoulders as your hips jerked and spasmed, your legs shaking pleasantly. Slowly Digger withdrew his fingers from between your thighs and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you against him as you trembled, coming down from the high.

After a moment you came back to earth. Leaning back, you studied Digger's smug, content expression and his steely eyes. "What was that?" You asked in a airy voice, still a little overwhelmed from the event.

"I just made yeh cum, is all," he explained with a smirk. "I can do it again if yeh want."

PART 1 - PART 3

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