#big plates at the bottom small plates on top IS IT THAT FUCKIN HARD

[spirallingstarcases]

the only form of narcissism i experience is thinking that i alone can stack dishes into the dishwasher better then anyone else in this godforsaken household

[theymetinargentina]

All the Stars | H.S. Imagine

Comments and requests are always welcomed:)

Masterlist

Summary: domestic Harry, husband!Harry, all that jazz

Warnings: Smut

Word count: 1.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moonlight continued to cascade on his back. He had a concentrated look on his face as he tried to get the thing i begged for to work. “I can’t get this fuckin’ thing to work.” he scroffed.

“Harry you have to twist it,” I said while looking over the manual.

“I only do this for you my darlin’,” he peered back at me and gave me the cheekiest grin.

“I know you’re only saying that to get in my pants,” I rolled my eyes

“Absolutely not,” he sounded genuinely hurt, “Plus I wouldn’t even need to do that.” he grinned.

“Is that so?” I raised my eyebrow and chuckled.

“You’d come crawling on your knees for my baby.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, hurry and finish I want to see.” I stood up and walked to where Harry continued to work at the telescope.

He stepped back, “It looks like it should work,” yet he sounded unsure.

“Alright I trust you, now shoo.”

“Hey! I built the bloody thing, I would also like to see ‘all the stars’,” he teased with a grin. I merely scoffed at him and peered through the lens, letting out a small gasp.

“It looks beautiful Harry,” I exclaimed.

I moved to allow him a glimpse of the night sky.

“Fuckin’ hell, you can see everything,” he squited and hunched over the telescope while I hugged him from behind.

“We should get inside and get the table set for dinner.” I say into his back.

A few friends were coming over to celebrate a recent promotion I had gotten at work. Harry was estatic and insisted we have a celebration. Which meant we now had to finish cooking and get ready for guests. Something Harry wasn’t particularly fond of when having guest over.

“Just a minute, I wanna stay outside with you for a bit.” He hums. It was dark and there was a slight nip to the air but our warmth combined was enough for us.

He turned around and returned the hug. His warmth enveloping me whole. My check to his chest, I could hear and feel his heart beating. Even after all this years, through every argument, I can’t believe the amount of love I have for this man. Everything he does amazes me, the kindness and gentleness he has never stops surprising me. I truly don’t think he understands how big of a gift he is the world. How in awe we- his family, friends and even fans- constantly are of him. I don’t think he realizes how many people he has, and continues, to save. The fact that he does it all without asking anything in return for himself, somehow makes him so much admirable. ———————————————————— “I’ll take the plate, don’t worry about it,” I say as I grab his plate and take it to the sink. Not before he sneaks a slap to my ass.

When I turn to look at him, he has the cheekiest grin ever and giggles like a teenage boy.

I can’t help the smile that makes it’s way onto my face.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he grins, “especially not when you’re wearing a skirt that short.”

“Don’t slut shame me, you asshole,” I snap back playfully

“Baby I want you to dress slutty in front of me,” he hugs me from behind and slowly push’s his groin into my backside, “it makes my dick rock hard.”

I mhmm in acknowledgment. I decide to tease him back and slowly start to move my hips.

He groans and starts placing sloppy kisses along my neck, “babyyyy, if you keep doing that I’m gonna take you right here.”

“Do it,” I moan when he starts trailing his hand down my stomach.

Just when he’s about to reach the button of my jeans the door bell rings.

“Fuck,” he all but growls.

I laugh, “relax baby we’ll have time later.” I wink as I go to answer the door

“You absolute tease,” I hear him say.

—————————————-

We’re all three drinks in and it’s clear everyone’s starting to feel it. Harry is telling the story of the renovation we recently had done in the guest room, to which Jeff and Glenne listen to intently.

“Seriously, I’ll give you both the number to the company that did our flooring,” I say to them.

They turn their heads and smile at me, “That would be wonderful, thank you,” glenne says with a grateful smile.

Despite our time together, being around Harry’s friends never fails to make me nervous. I think a part of me is worried if they don’t like me, what Harry would do. Surely he’d pick his best friend and manager over a girl, right? My thoughts are interrupted when my close friend Mae asks Harry a question.

“Renovations in a new house, but no ring?” She has a playful tone and everyone laughs but Harry and I both look at each other slightly panicked.

It’s not that we didn’t want people to know that we had gotten married. But the constant questions and pestering became a drag to deal with. Which is why we choose to instead elope with only our familys knowledge. It was beyond lovely being able to experience the first few months of our marriage without the constant unwanted attention from everyone.

It was a secret between the two of us, something that made our love all the more special.

Harry takes a deep breath and looks over the Mae, “it’ll happen soon, don’t worry,” he grins.

“I’ve told you a thousand times Mae, we’ll go to a courthouse and that’s it,” I smile, knowing this is where we constantly lost everyone in our marriage plans.

Harry and I didn’t want the big wedding everyone dreams of. We were content with signing a paper and vowing to love each other.

“I love you both, but you kill me everytime you remind me,” Mae exclaims with a small smile.

Everyone begins chatting about weddings, in what I assume to be an attempt to change our minds.

After a few more drinks and a long discussion about what our next gathering will be focused on, our guests excuse themselves and leave one by one. ————————————— Up stairs, Harry and I began to get ready for bed. He managed to tuck himself into bed already while I wiped all my makeup off.

“I don’t know if I should keep letting my bread grow?” He wondered out loud.

“Yes!” I agreed a little too loudly, Harry’s facial hair was the source of most of our disagreements. While he preferred to stick to shaven or minimal stubble, I preferred his full grown beard.

He knowingly smirked, “I’ll keep it if it means I get to spend all day with my head between your thighs.”

“You won’t hear me complainin’ “ I mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you?” He jokingly leaned foward in an attempt to look at me.

I turned off the light and walked toward our bed. Before sit at the end of it.

While crawling, “ I said I won’t complain about you spending all day between my thighs.”

He grinned again, “is that so?”

“Yup.”

I reached my hand under the covers and began to palm him over his sweatpants. He started placing kisses along my neck and jawline. When I gave a rather hard squeeze he groaned and looked at me, “I’m gonna cum in my pants.”

“And we couldn’t possibly have that hmm?”

“Absolutely not, I want to cum in your tight cunt.”

I moaned at his words and pulled him to get out from under the covers. He pushed me onto my back and began grinding his hips on mine. I reached for the bottom of his shirt and lifted it off him. While he broke away I began to strip off my bottoms and top.

He let out a growl when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra and immediately began sucking on the area around my nipples.

“Harry..” I moaned

“Tell me baby” he replied, “tell me what you want daddy to do?”

“I want daddy to fuck me.” I boldly said

It’s light a switch flipped in Harry and he practically tore off my lace thong.

I  pulled his underwear off and his erection sprung up immediately.

I almost drooled at the sight of his red tip dripping pre cum. I laid back down while slowly pumping him.

He threw his head back and gave the most angelic moan I have ever heard. The sight of Harry completely subbmissive to my hand was quite possibly the biggest turn on.

He wasted in no time and lined himself up, kissing me roughly and slowly easing in.

“Oh fuck...” I threw my head back in pleasure.

No matter how many times we had sex, Harry’s size never failed to surprise me.

“Shit baby you’re so tight,” he bit his lip and began thrusting roughly.

Our pants and skin slapping was the only noise  in the room. A noise that had become a regular occurrence.

“Harder Harry.....fuck..”

“Yeah baby? You like rough? Like it when daddy fucks you with his cock?” He smirked and picked up his pace. He trailed his hand up from my thighs and wrapped them around my throat lightly.

“Mmmm....” was all I managed to get out.

He pressed his body on top of mine and bottomed out making me moan out loudly. I raked my nails down his back, knowing the marks would be there tomorrow.

He placed a kiss below my ear sending a wave of pleasure throughout me.

“Wanna get on top and ride my cock darlin’ ?” He whispered.

I nodded feverishly and pushed him to lay on his back.

I straddled him and grabbed his length lining him up, slowly sinking down. We both dropped our heads and moaned at the feeling of him being balls deep in me.

“Fuck, baby you’re cunt feels so good.”

“Mmm you like it?” I asked

“I fuckin love it.” I began moving my hips back and forth and then bouncing up and down; trying to find a rhythm that would push us over the edge.

My thighs began to burn so I placed my chest on Harry’s and he took that as his signal to do his part. He began thrusting up into me at a merciless pace. ‘Oh fuck’ was the only words I could seemingly get out, while Harry resorted to merely grunting.

I could feel him twitching inside me and knew he was close.

I began kissing all along his jaw and whispered in his ear, “cum in me, Harry, cum in your cunt.” This was all he needed as he bottomed out and groaned loudly.

I felt his thick ropes of cum coat inside of me. This pushed me over the edge, making me twitch on top of Harry and cry out.

I felt him soften but neither of us made any move. Our breaths were slowly going back to normal.

Finally I slowly eased off of him, whimpering at the feeling of being empty.

“Fuck, y/n, what the hell was that?” He chuckled.

“It was thank you, for everything.” I smiled.

“I love you.” “I love you.”

[ffakc]

The Boys of Fall - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

I based this off a dream I had where Jeff and my dad were watching football together. I was being super flirty the whole time while Jeff just wanted to watch the game 😂

The Chicago Bears versus the Seattle Seahawks. Tim versus Jeff. My loving dad versus my loving husband. I prepared a feast of game day snacks for my guys and picked up their favorite brews. Today was going to be intense, to say the least.

I build a plate of food and head to the living room. The game was well underway. Jeff taps his knee with a smile and I sit on his lap.

“Here, try this,” I run my fingers through Jeff’s graying hair and kiss him. I hold a chip with hot spinach dip up to his mouth. He takes a large bite.

“Oh my,” he rolls his eyes back, “Did you make this?” he takes a sip of ice cold beer. I gesture to my mom. “Ma, you’ve really outdone yourself!”

“Thanks, Jeff!” my mom smiles. My husband looks over his array of snacks, trying to decide what to sample next.

“I’m 24 years old and I still don’t understand football,” I laugh and continue petting Jeff’s hair.

“I’ve explained it to you before!” my dad says.

“Well, the gist of it is the defense tries to prevent the offense from scoring the football. The offense must advance the ball at least 10 yards every four plays or downs. Each time the offense is successful in advancing the ball 10 yards, they get four more downs or what is called a ‘first down’. Does that make sense, sweetheart?” Jeff explains.

“A little bit,” I reply, “You’re so cute when you talk about the stuff you love.” I curl up under the fuzzy blanket while Jeff’s hands rub my back.

“These wings are delicious too, doll. And you don’t even miss the meat!” Jeff remarks, biting into a cauliflower Buffalo wing.

“Yeah, she made those for Grandpa once and damn near killed him,” my dad jokes.

“It’s true! I think I added more hot sauce than barbecue,” I giggle.

“I don’t mind a little heat,” Jeff replies.

“Well, if you’re going to eat those spicy wings,” I lean into Jeff’s ear, my voice barely above a whisper, “You better brush your teeth real good later. I want your mouth all over me, Daddy.” I feel Jeff get excited in his gray Seahawks sweatpants, grateful he was under the blanket, for those sweatpants definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination. He squeezes my backside and bites his lower lip. His face quickly turns to frustration.

“NOT A PASS!!! GOD DAMN IT!!!” my husband yells, causing me to flinch, “Sorry, babe,” Jeff rubs my shoulder, “Didn’t mean to scare you.” My dad laughs maniacally.

“Well, Mr. Morgan! Look who’s not doing so hot!” Jeff tosses up a middle finger with a smirk. “Hey now, play nice. Just because your team sucks doesn’t mean you get to flip off your father in law.”

“Can I smack your dad?” Jeff jokes.

“Jeffrey!” I playfully slap his chest and we all laugh, “How about another beer?” Jeff nods.

“God, I really love your daughter, Mr. C,” Jeff says as I hand him the beverage with a kiss, “Thanks, baby.” I sit back on my husband’s knee.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else for a son in law, Jeff. Look at the way she looks at you.” I make a goofy face and Jeff wheezes, “Okay, maybe not like THAT. But it makes me so happy to see her happy. She never holds back about how much she loves you, and don’t we all want that in a partner?”

“Very true, I’ll drink to that. I love you, (name).”

“I love you too, Jeffrey,” I nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck.

***

I waited for my husband to finish his shower as I dicked around on my phone. We were sleeping in my childhood bedroom. I shut off the lamp next to the bed, letting the moonlight illuminate the space I used to call my own. The crisp, fall breeze feels heavenly. Jeff appears in the doorway, hair damp and pajama bottoms clinging to his hips. His manly, brunette chest hair turned me on like crazy. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Nice room you’ve got here. I dig the orange walls,” my husband looks around.

“Yeah, I think we repainted my junior year of high school. I was going through an artsy phase,” I giggle.

“It’s very cozy,” Jeff smiles and places his glasses on the nightstand. I beckon with my finger. “What are you doin’, Princess?” He climbs on top of me and kisses me deeply, tasting very faintly of cigarettes, but mostly like minty toothpaste, “Oh, I see. I know what you want. Don’t worry,” he glides his tongue over his teeth, “Nice and clean, no more Buffalo sauce,” he teases. I laugh as he buries his face in my neck, kissing and moaning. My husband smells so damn good. Jeff’s kisses trail down my body, “Look at my little girl. Oh fuck yes. So wet already, Princess?” he rasps, burying his nose in the freshly trimmed hair of my most sensitive area.

“You always get me there, Daddy,” I nod and bite my lip.

“You smell scrumptious. Good enough to eat, baby cakes,” Jeff lowers his voice to a whisper, “We’re going to have to keep it down a bit, doll,” Jeff makes a satisfied “mmm” noise and he sucks my clit, “Don’t want Mom and Dad to know how good I tongue-fuck you, hm?” He slurps loudly, “That’s my good girl.” He kisses around my outer lips and slides a finger inside.

“Daddy,” I whine, “Oh fuck!” I rock myself against Jeff’s hot, wet mouth as he grips my hips. He adds another slender finger and begins curling them slightly, hitting just the right spot. “Jeffrey, oh god yes! Jeffrey!” I gasp. Staying quiet while my silver fox’s tongue dove in and out and around every inch of me was damn near impossible.

“You sure have a pretty little pussy, my gorgeous wife,” I LOVED when Jeff called me that. I was Mrs. Morgan, now and forever, and he was never going to let me go. Jeff brings me to the edge of a mind blowing orgasm and readjusts himself. He hovers above me, pressing his lips into mine. “I’m going to fuck your pretty little brains out now,” Jeff lets out a vaguely Negan sounding chuckle. I beg for it as he taps the tip of his hard cock against my clit, “But maybe,” I run my hands over his stomach and across his chest, his nipples hardening from the stimulation and the cool night air. “Maybe I want you to beg for it, sweetheart,” his croaky voice gives me chills.

“Please, I need it so bad,” I can barely speak.

“I can’t hear you,” Jeff teases.

“Please, Jeff! I need your big, fat cock inside of me!” I speak a little louder.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Jeff sinks into me with a groan, “I ain’t going to last long, you feel so go-oh hell yes, that’s it. Right there,” he bites his lower lip as he thrusts deep and slow, smooth and even. The fullness makes me shake. He hushes me gently as he brushes two fingers over my clit, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart, I’m so close.”

“Come on, Daddy. Finish inside me, Jeff. Please finish insi- oh fuck! Fuck me harder!” I whine. Jeff quickens his pace as small beads of sweat gather on his forehead. Jeff curses under his breath, making low growls of pleasure.

“You want it in your pussy, hm? You want Daddy to breed you good?” I nod quickly and inhale sharply as an intense orgasm overtakes me. I shove my face in the pillow, attempting to muffle my sounds. “I’m fucking cumming, Princess, oh fuck yes! Yes, baby girl! Oh god!” I drip with Jeff’s sticky, warm juices as he pulls out. He rests his head on my chest and I begin stroking his hair.

“Jeffrey Dean, you fucking animal,” I pant.

“I’ve still got it. At 54, I’ve still got it,” Jeff jokes.

***

Jeff pours himself a cup of coffee and joins us at the dining room table. He rests his head on my shoulder lovingly.

“Did you sleep good? You look tired, Jeff,” my mom laughs.

“Yeah, slept wonderfully,” Jeff smiles.

“Is everyone still coming over later?” I ask.

“As far as I know. If you two want to run to the store-“

“Okay, I have to say something. It’s bugging the hell out of me,” my dad speaks up.

“You okay, Mr. C?” Jeff looks confused.

“Yeah, um, I couldn’t sleep last night. Now, I can’t stop you guys from doing what married couples do, just know that the headboard in that bedroom is LOOSE and LOUD,” my dad says.

“Oh my god,” I bury my face in my hands and Jeff turns red.

“Just be more careful, okay bud?” my dad pats his son in law’s shoulder.

“Yes sir,” Jeff holds back laughter. I sip my coffee with a smirk, squeezing Jeff’s knee under the table. And here we thought we were being sneaky.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Not so Innocent

A/N: Sorry for the sucky ending :/ This ones a long one

You saw Harry almost every morning. He would always come in, order his usual, and sit to have a chat with you. You’d make his coffee exactly how he liked it and you’d take your break a bit early to sit with him and talk. Over the course of a few weeks, you’d gotten to know each other and you both started to have a bit more romantic feelings towards Harry and the same could be said of Harry. You could almost say that Harry was falling head over heels in love with you. You both knew that the feelings you had were not going to go away. You both were right, instead of going away, they intensified.

Today, it was the same routine. You made his coffee, and made your way over to your usual booth. But today,the conversation was a bit different than usual.“So, I know we’ve been chatting for a couple of weeks now, and I was wondering if you’d want to go on an actual date with me?.” He asks, not looking up at you, because he feared that if he did, your response would shoot his high hopes of you saying yes out of the sky. You didn’t respond right away, so he peers up at you to see a wide smile across your face.

“I would love to go out with you” you whisper and put your hand on top of his trembling one.

The two of you finally exchanged numbers and continued to chat for the rest of the morning. Before he left, he gave you a tight hug, and placed a warm kiss against your cheek. At that point, you felt like you could burst. For the rest of the day you were texting back and forth with each other whenever you had a chance. You were so happy that you couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

The same could be said for harry. He was smiling the entire day, and it was all because of you. Your smile was embedded in his mind. He thought about the shy smile that played on your face when he would compliment you, or the smile you had when you were talking about something you were passionate about. He loved your smile and he wanted to be the one to keep that smile on your face.

A few days after he asked you out on an official date,you both still had your mini coffee dates, but now, you were finally able to go out on a proper date. You’d spent pretty much the entire day getting ready for your date with Harry.

From the time he picked you up, the night was amazing. Throughout dinner, you both talked and just had a great time with each other. He was an absolute gentleman the entire night and that was making you fall for him even more. When your night was unfortunately coming to an end, he walked you to the front door of your building and you both just studied each other in the doorway to your building. “I had a really great time tonight” he whispers picking up your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “Me too, officially one of the best dates I’ve ever been on” you say shooting him a soft smile. You push off of the door and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands naturally go to your waist and you look into his eyes before you pull him closer and you attach your lips to his. He pulls you closer to him as the kiss continues. He goes to deepen the kiss, but before he can, you pull away from his lips. “Ill see you later.” you whisper against his lips before kissing his cheek and going into your building. When you get to your apartment, all you can do is lean against your door, and bask in the daze that is Harry. You were so happy about how the night went, and you couldn’t wait to see him again.

The next few weeks of getting to know each other even more were amazing . Harry still came to the coffee shop and you had coffee together in the mornings. Harry had even asked you to be his girlfriend, which you of course said yes to. You both were getting closer and both of you were enjoying your time together. He had invited you over to his house for dinner because he’d been talking up his cooking skills for quite some time now and he wanted to show you that his cooking skills were as good as he claimed they were. When you got to his home, you were wrapped up in a big hug and the warm aroma of his cooking. He placed a kiss on your forehead before guiding you in. While the food was finishing off in the oven, he gave you a glass of wine and took you on a tour of his home.

“And the final stop on the tour is my bedroom” he says and stops outside the door. You take it upon yourself to push the door open to take peak inside. You see the large bed in the center of the room and you step inside, abandoning your wine glass on the small table by the door. You’re standing in front of the bed and your thoughts about all the things you wanted him to do to you on the bed we’re flooding into your mind. You’re broken out of your trance when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Watch’a thinkin’ about?” he questions into your ear before kissing the area below it. “Nothing much” you whisper back before turning around in his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck and you pull him into a kiss.

You feel the backs of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you pull harry on top of you as you fall back on the bed. He deepens the kiss when you hook your leg around his waist pulling him closer. “You know we still have to eat right.” He pants as he pull away and looks to you for a response. “I guess you’re right, need to get our energy up for later” you whisper to him. You kiss his lips before lightly pushing against his chest. He falls back on the bed you quickly get up. You grab your abandoned wine glasses before exiting the room, not bothering to pull down your dress, which has obviously risen past its intended length. “Fuckin’ minx” he mutters, seeing as you left him hard and flustered on the bed. He manages to pull himself together, and he makes his way down to the kitchen where he sees you searching for dishes. “Third cabinet on the left” he says, causing you to jump as he walks in to take the food out of the oven. You set the table together and you put the finishing touches on everything.

Once the both of you were settled into dinner, the games began.

You realized early on that it was the subtle things that drove Harry crazy. Whenever either of you were talking, you’d lean over slightly, allowing him to get a better look at you ample cleavage. But you didn’t stop there, you decided to test the waters and rile him up even more. He was telling you about some of his upcoming projects when you slipped your shoes off. You began to slide your foot up his leg. As your foot went higher, you heard his voice begin to waver and his breaths became heavier. He stops mid-sentence when your foot makes it to his crotch. You feel his hardened cock m straining through the fabric of his pants. He lets out a low groan from the pleasure before dropping his fork onto his plate. You move against him once more before moving back to your side of the table. Like nothing happened, you go back to asking about his upcoming album. Without response he hastily gets up and rounds the table and pulls you up from your seat. You’re immediately trapped between Harry’s body and the table. Without your heels, there was a significant height difference between you which turned both of you on in ways you couldn’t even explain. Harry wraps a hand around your neck, softly gripping you and pushing your mouth towards his before slamming his lips onto yours. You moan into his mouth and your lips instantly part, allowing his tongue to glide against yours. This lust fueled kiss continues as he lifts you up pulling you against him. You wrap your legs around his waist and his lips immediately go to your neck as he carries you to the bedroom.

The two of you make it to the bedroom and onto the bed with Harrys body hovering over yours. “Are yeh’sure, if yeh’ don’t want to, I completely understand.” He whispers moving his hand from your waist to cup your cheek. “I really want you right now” you respond lifting your head slightly to reconnect your lips to his. Your already heated kiss gets even hotter when his warm hands are placed onto your thighs and push up the bottom of your dress. He pulls away from your lips to get a better look at your clothed cunt. He immediately presses his thumb into the damp spot in your panties. A moan left your mouth that left your lips was a moan that Harry had only dreamt of hearing. I was the moan that almost had Harry immediately cumming in his pants. That moan sent him into overdrive and it made his need for you ten times stronger. He abruptly rips your pants clean off you you and his mouth is promptly on your glistening mound. As soon as his tongue made contact with your juices, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Not only did you smell like heaven, but you tasted like it too, and the sounds that we’re leaving your mouth were just adding fuel to his fire. The way you moaned his name and begged him not to stop caused him to push your thighs apart to press his tongue deeper inside of you. You felt his tongue pushing in and out of your slick hole, making sure to cover every inch of you. Your hands grip onto his hair pulling him into you even more than he already was. The pleasure you were receiving just from his tongue was stronger than anything you’d ever felt. He began to add pressure to your already throbbing clit which sent you into your first climax of the night. Coupled with his moans that were sending vibrations through your body, you came right on his tongue.

He pulls away from your center and places a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He begins to take his clothes off, staring at your already spent figure beneath him. He pulls his shirt off and he goes to undo his pants,but you stop him. You sit up from your previous position and you move the two of you around so that Harry is laying on the bed and you’re between his legs. You pull your dress the rest of the way off and you kneel between is spread legs before going to undo his pants. “Let me take care of you daddy” you you say with a mischievous smirk on your face as you pull them down his legs. You hook your fingers around the waist of his pants and boxers, and you slowly peel them off of Harry’s body. “Daddy huh? Want daddy to fuck you baby?” he groans, with his head falling back into the pillows. He wraps a hand in your hair, nudging your head towards his his cock. You toss his boxers away somewhere in the room and you wrap your warm hand around his engorged cock. You had an idea that Harry was big, but your estimate was a complete underestimate. Your hand couldn’t fully wrap around his girth. You grip as much of him as possible and your push his throbbing head past your lips. You suckle on the head of his cock, making sure to continuously run the tip of your tongue over his ultra sensitive slit. You feel the hand Harry had wrapped in your hair tighten from the immense pleasure. You push more of him into your warm and wet mouth until you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the intrusion, and you slightly Gaga at the amount of his cock you had in your mouth. You move your hands further down between his thighs and you lightly squeeze his full and heavy balls. You feel him jolt at the pleasure. You go to come up for air but he pushes your head back onto him, letting out a guttural which went straight to your tingling core. You immediately become wetter at the deep sound that left his lips and you pull your mouth off of him, with strings of your saliva still connected to his cock. “I can’t wait for you be inside me daddy. Can’t wait for your big cock to stretch me out.” You mumble licking from his balls and up the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He pulls your head away from his cock and he pulls you up to him.

He maneuvers your body so that you’re straddling his hips. Your core directly on his hardened cock. “Y’want me to fuck you baby” he asks smoothing his hands across your body. “Mhm” you whimper as you feel him softly fondle your rounded breasts. You begin to rock back and forth against him, until he places a firm grip on your hips stopping your movements. “Use y’words baby” he says firmly as he starts to rub your swollen clit. “Fuck, I want you inside of me daddy” you moan in response, not just to him, but to the pressure he was applying to your clit. He wraps his ringed hand around your throat and he pulls you down to him. His lips immediately engulf yours in an utterly sensual and filthy kiss. You feel his grip on your throat tighten, and his rings dig deeper into your soft skin. You moan at the feeling and you lean into his hand. His other hand smooths down the dip in your back and down to your ass in which he gives a nice firm slap. You gasp in his mouth and he takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue deeper into his mouth, something that you very much enjoyed.

He grasps his cock and he starts to paint his cock up and down your tight and inviting opening. He nudges his engorged cockhead into your hole and his anticipation about being inside of you only grows. Deciding to tease you, he pulls out of you and chuckles when you let out a needy whimper. He releases your throat and flips you both over so that he’s on top of you. “Y’look so pretty with daddy’s marks on yeh” he whispers to himself, but loud enough for it to hear. You smile in response, causing him to smile back at you and smoothing his thumb across the indentations he left on your neck which will definitely turn into bruises the next morning. He reaches over to the bedside table to grab a condom but you quickly stop him. “I’m on the pill” you respond to his actions. As you look up at him, you notice from the corner of your eye that his cock twitched at your response, which only Made you even more desperate to have him deep inside of you. You bite your lip and you lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You fall back onto the bed and you lay under Harry’s intense gaze.

He jerks his cock a few times and aligns his cock up with your center. He nudges his cock between your folds and he slowly pushes into you. Both of your heads fall back into the pillows and your hands immediately grip onto the crisp sheets on the bed. “Doin’ go good f’me baby.” He moans at the feeling of your warm walls engulfing his cock. Just him pushing into you could make you cum. The way his cock deliciously stretched you. Sure it stung, but it felt so good. Stilled inside of you, allowing you to adjust to his size. “Y’ready darling” he asks shakily, massaging the flesh on your hips. You keep your eyes shut and you nod your head in response. He pulls out of you slightly and slams back into you. You let out a string of moans at the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you over and over again. “Fuck me daddy” you whimper digging your nails into his bicep. “Y’feel me in y’tummy baby? Y’feel me in here” he pants pressing his palm into your lower stomach. Not only go in him leverage to fuck into you deeper but it allowed him to see the outline of his cock deep inside of you, which made him want to cum on the spot. “Harder” you moan, pleading for him to let go and pound into you the way you knew he wanted to. “Y’want me t’go harder?” He asks, still thrusting into you. You nod, with an incoherent yes. That’s all the response he needed. He pulls out of you and he flips you over onto your stomach. He snatches one of the pillows from the head of the bed and places it under your hips. He gives a few slaps to your ass and he aligns his cock back up to your entrance. Without warning, he pounds his cock into you. He presses down onto your back, pushing your hips up and your upper body down to get deeper inside of you. You couldn’t mutter anything that wasn’t a moan or a whimper. The pleasure he was giving you was beyond compare. He then wraps his hands around your hips and pistons his hips into yours. “Fuck, I’m about t’cum” you whine pushing back into Harry’s thrusts. He maneuvers his hand to your front, immediately finding your sensitive clit. He quickly rubs your clit, pushing you completely over the edge. You release around his cock, your juices gushing out of you. His thrusts become sloppier as he nears his release. He spreads your ass apart and watches his cock disappear into your delectable cunt. He feels his orgasm wash over him and he pushes his cock into you one final time before he sprays your walls with his cum. He pushes his load deeper into you before pulling out of you and turning you back over to face him.

“Y’did so good f’me baby” he whispers and places a sweet kiss to your lips. A dopey smile spreads across your face in response. He pulls back and looks down at your spent figure and he watches as his cum spills out of you. He scoops some onto his fingers and before he even asked, you part your lips for him to push in his fingers. He pushes them past your lips and you moan at the taste of his cum. “I’ll cum in your mouth the next time” he says and pulls his fingers from your mouth. You nod your head yes, but Harry wasn’t having it. “Use your words baby.” he replies patting your cheek “I want you to cum in my mouth” you say again and he leans down and kisses your lips tasting himself against your lips. He then gets up and cleans the two of you up. He slips one of his shirts over your head you decide to opt out of his offer for underwear and he tucks you under the duvet. You instantly melt into the soft pillows and he goes back into the bathroom to flick off the light. He comes back out and gets in the bed behind you, and pulls you into him. You turn to face him and his hand goes straight to your waist pulling you closer “I love you” you whisper and you looking at him, pushing back some of his curls. He cups your face and whispers “I love you too” before kissing your lips.

This kiss felt different, the kiss the two of you shared was a kiss that made your head spin. It made the both of you feel complete with each other. He pulls away from you and pulls you into his chest and kisses your head. “Didn’t know you were into daddy” he says against your shoulder “theres a lot more where that came from” you whisper and lay against him. Right when he was about to fall asleep you had one last thing to say. “You owe me another pair of panties by the way” you whisper. “I’ll buy you as many pairs as you want, but for now get some sleep” he chuckles, his voice laced with sleep. “Goodnight” you say in a low tone before falling asleep. “I love you baby” he whispers before dozing off behind you.

Masterlist

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Under the Stars (Brick/Blossom)

Written for the inaugural challenge prompt on PPG Challenge Hub on AO3 for the prompt “things you said under the stars,” hosted by @kiebs, @carriedreamerx, and me. Also functions as a Part 3 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. You can read Part 1 and Part 2 here on Tumblr or on my AO3. 

Summary: In which Blossom decides she is definitely girlfriend material, and so does everybody else.

***We are welcoming more submissions for this prompt for the month of July! If you want to participate, please check out the PPG Challenge Hub collection on AO3.***

xxx

Nothing short of witchcraft could have held Buttercup’s 1997 Ford F-Series pickup truck together as it ambled over rocky switchbacks and through dense, Redwood forest to the Vista Lakes campgrounds for the Townsville High Junior and Senior classes’ biannual end-of-semester party. Blossom kept a stranglehold on the passenger door and hissed her displeasure over every dip that lurched the old truck too close to the edge of the road. The drop to the bottom of the mountain was a good thousand feet, a death knell for the Normies riding along with them.

Mitch and Harry, however, did not seem to mind as much.

“Oh shit!” Mitch whooped when Buttercup went over a particularly deep crag in the road and rocked the whole truck.

“Buttercup, please slow down,” Blossom pleaded.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Mitch said through the sliding window that opened up onto the truck bed, where he and Harry rode with the sleeping bags, food, and extra blankets.

Harry laughed. “We’re cool Blossom, don’t worry.”

“Yeah Blossom, don’t worry,” Buttercup drawled. “Besides, it’s not like a fall from this height would kill us.”

“I’m sure Mitch and Harry feel super reassured to hear you say that,” Blossom said snidely.

“Super duper!” Mitch said. He flashed the rearview mirror a sign of the horns and winked.

Blossom forced herself to ignore his goading and kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead just in case. “I should never have agreed to this.”

“Well, tough shit, Leader Girl. You could’ve gotten a ride with Bubbles earlier if you’d left your Winter Break homework until the last day like everybody else, but noooooooo.”

“Not everybody waits until the last minute to get the homework done, for your information.”

“They totally do.”

“They totally don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t—ugh, no, I’m not arguing like this with you.”

Buttercup smirked like she’d won the argument (she definitely did not). “Whatever. We’re basically here and no one’s fallen to their death yet, so you can chill.”

The road emptied out onto a clearing overlooking the side of the mountain. Three deep, blue lakes sat still and tranquil, each surrounded by clusters of gnarled Redwoods and camp sites. A lot of people were already here considering the late hour, and a few campfires blazed bright along the shorelines. The gloaming crept over the horizon, casting the valley below in shadow and the skies in dusky, bleeding streaks of red like spilled wine. High above, blues deepened to blacks, but it was still early for stars.

Buttercup parked off the main campsite and the boys began unloading the truck bed. When they struggled with a cooler crammed full of ice, Blossom lifted it effortlessly and floated it over to join others that had already been packed with cheap beer and grill meat.

“Eyyyy there she is!” Boomer opened his arms and pulled Blossom into his letter jacket for a big hug. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Blossom returned his hug with a smile. “Me too.”

“I told you she would,” said Bubbles, and she nudged Butch who was busy putting away a plate piled high with four hamburgers. He took one look at Blossom and grinned.

“Hey, Highness,” Butch drawled.

Blossom shot him a withering look. “Hi, Butch.” Ever since she’d beaten him in a not-so-friendly spar while Buttercup was out of commission, he’d mellowed out and taken to nicknaming and weirdly friendly ribbing.

“Comin’ down from that pretty throne to hang with the cool kids, huh?”

He stuffed an entire burger in his mouth, while Blossom threw up a little in hers.

“Shut up, Butch. You sound like a creepy old man.” Buttercup arrived carrying two twenty-four packs of beer that she dropped in Butch’s lap. He caught them with a grunt, and Bubbles caught his plate of uneaten burgers.

“Bitch, you love every glistening inch of this.” Butch stood up shouldering the enormous beer crates like they weighed nothing, because they did.

“I love cold beer, so move your glistening ass.” Buttercup snatched one of his uneaten burgers and stuffed it in her mouth.

Somehow, Buttercup got Butch up and helping, and when Mitch and Harry joined them, it was short work to unload everything from Buttercup’s truck. Blossom rolled out her sleeping bag on the grass amidst all the others, but no one would be sleeping tonight. It was merely a courtesy for the too high or the too passed out.

Around the campsite, Juniors and Seniors lounged with beers and blunts, enjoying their last night together before Winter Break. Among them, Wes had his arm around Kim as he flipped hot dogs on a standing grill and chatted up Mike and Robin. Blossom watched them a moment, debating whether to interrupt the conversation to say hi.

Bubbles slipped her arm around Blossom’s waist and squeezed affectionately. “You look a little lost.”

“No, just hanging out, you know.” She returned the half embrace, and they stood there a moment enjoying the cool night air.

“Hey, Blossom! You wanna sit with us?” Harry called. He and a few others had set up some lawn chairs by the shore and were passing beers.

Bubbles giggled. “You know he likes you,” she said.

“What—He does?!” Blossom sputtered.

“For sure. And, you know, since you’re totally not with anybody else, you could have some fun talking to him.”

“You mean, flirt with him.”

Bubbles was as innocent as a lamb. “I mean, be nice to him. That could be fun, right?”

Blossom had nothing to say to that. She was not, in fact, “with” anybody else. And she had every right to talk to whomever of her friends she wanted, so technically Bubbles had a point, but…

Blossom searched the faces gathered. In the encroaching darkness, it was getting harder to pick out profiles and bright colors to see who was here and who hadn’t yet arrived. “I don’t know.”

But Bubbles was already dragging her over to Harry’s circle and waving back to him. Seated in between Harry on one side and Kim on the other, Blossom was handed a burger and a beer and encouraged to participate in the conversation.

“My folks’re taking me to our cabin in Tahoe to go skiing over the break,” Harry was saying.

“That sounds fun,” Blossom said.

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure, if you count me eating snow every five feet when I can’t stop falling.”

“Come on, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Oh, yeah? I bet it’d be a cake walk for you, Miss Snow Queen.” Harry grinned, and the corners of his dark eyes crinkled cutely.

“Just because I have ice powers doesn’t make me a Winter sports maven. I’ve never skied in my life.”

“Psh, can’t be that hard, right? You start at the top of the mountain, and you end up at the bottom.”

Blossom bit back a smile. “I mean, I think it’s a little more involved than that.”

Harry laughed and leaned over the armrest closer to her. “Well, consider us both noobs. Anyway, most of the time’s spent hanging out at the cabin drinking hot chocolate anyway, right? Best part.”

Blossom tugged on her long, red ponytail as Harry continued to smile at her. She imagined the scene: a cozy ski lodge surrounded by snow, and a smiling boy content to ignore the blunt their friends were passing just to talk to her some more. She would like that. It would be easy, simple, and soft. Normal.

“Um, you know, I was thinking of inviting a few friends for a weekend. Just, like, a small group, and uh, well, I was wondering…” Harry stumbled in the dark looking for the question he meant to ask.

She could say yes, and she could have fun. With him, with any nice boy, it could be fun. How silly that just a few months ago, she had let herself believe she wasn’t the desirable type just because some mean girls said so. It all seemed so absurd now, and yet Blossom could not bring herself to give Harry the easy, simple, soft “yes” he wanted.

“Oh hey! You can have my seat, I’m grabbing more food,” said Kim on Blossom’s other side.

“Thanks.”

Like a hand to the stove, that voice hit her with a searing demand to be acknowledged. Old habits perhaps, or new ones. He wasn’t one to be ignored, not by her at least. Not these days.

“Brick,” Blossom said, half a question, half a sigh. She pulled back from Harry to look at him properly.

He’d taken Kim’s vacated seat directly next to her and nursed a solo cup of beer. Like her, he was dressed for the December chill in long sleeves, and his trademark red cap sat backwards over his short hair, as always. Red eyes held hers in a look that lingered.

“Blossom.” He spoke her name like a secret.

He was late. Why was he late? It wasn’t like him. She hadn’t seen him since third period yesterday. Was it only yesterday, or years ago?

“Hey, Brick,” Harry said, leaning over so he could see around Blossom. “Butch said you might not make it tonight.”

Blossom worried her lip between her teeth, and Brick took a long sip of beer as he slowly averted his gaze to Harry on her other side. “Here I am.”

“Uh, yeah, so Blossom,” Harry said. “About Tahoe…”

xxx

Blossom tugged on her ponytail as she turned back to Harry. Brick watched her twist her anxious fingers through her hair and narrowed his eyes.

“Hm? Oh, right,” she said.

“Yeah, so like I was saying, my parents’ cabin has a few extra bedrooms, so we could make a whole weekend out of it. Skiing, hot chocolate, the works. It’d be cool if you came. What do you say?”

“You throwing a rager?” Brick interrupted.

Harry leaned forward to see Brick again like he’d forgotten he was sitting there at all. “Nah man, just a couple friends for a weekend trip.”

“Cool. Who’s going?”

“Uh, I mean, I don’t have a list or anything. Sorta just came up with it now, so…”

“So you still have space. Count me in,” Brick said.

Blossom and Harry both looked at him like he’d suggested they all go jump in the lake.

“You want to go skiing in Tahoe?” Blossom asked.

Brick shrugged. “Sure, if it means a weekend away from my idiot brothers. Thanks for the invite, Harry.”

Harry gaped, and Blossom ceased pulling at her ponytail to stare at Brick.

“I mean,” Harry said, and nodded super obviously towards Blossom while she wasn’t looking.

“How many others could we invite?” Blossom asked. “If it’s okay with your parents, I mean.”

Harry looked at Blossom, and then he looked at Brick, who sipped his beer like the oblivious, teenaged simpleton he one hundred percent was not. Giving up, Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his buzz cut. “There’s room for two more if you’re both going to be there.”

Blossom lit up. “How about Wes and Kim? Or Pablo and Hanout?”

Harry sat back in his chair and nursed his beer. “Yeah, fine, whatever you want.”

She was smiling now.

“Wes and Kim,” Brick said. “Pablo snores like a motherfucker.”

“That’s true,” Harry said forlornly.

“Well, either way,” Blossom said, clearly torn between telling them both off and the desire to finalize plans.

Brick got up. “Let us know what weekend. I’m free whenever.”

Pleasantly yet unsurprisingly, Blossom got up too. “Me too. Thanks Harry, this’ll be fun.” She smiled genuinely at him, and he returned it.

“Yeah, the best,” Harry said dejectedly.

Blossom followed Brick as he led her away from the main campsite along the shoreline in the direction of the drop-off.

“Okay, what was that?” she asked when they were away from the roar of the music and the campfires.

“What was what?” Brick asked. It was dark now, and the farther they wandered from the center of the party, the harder it was to see the shoreline as his eyes adjusted.

“You invited yourself to Harry’s. Are you even that close?”

He paused and looked at her. “Are you?”

Blossom clutched the ends of her jacket as she blinked up at him. “We’re friends,” she hedged. “He’s a nice guy.”

Brick smirked. “Uh-huh. Real nice.”

“What does that mean?”

“You tell me. Am I intruding?”

Blossom studied him through the gloom. She was close enough that he could smell her perfume, silken and subtle. “No,” she said at length. “There’s nothing to intrude on.”

He watched her walk along ahead of him, her long ponytail a bloody lash under the cover of night. He chucked his beer and went after her.

“This way,” he said, breaking from the shore and heading into the trees.

“Where are we going?” Blossom drew close. “It’s so dark tonight.”

“I think it’s a new moon. Here.” Brick found her hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the pitch black of the canopy.

Blossom’s hand was cool in his, and she slipped the other one around his arm as he walked deeper into the forest. The walk wasn’t far, and soon the trees thinned as they emerged onto the shore of the lake nearest to the precipice overlooking the valley below. Brick had set up his sleeping bag in the grass far away from the rabble where he could have the best view undisturbed.

“Wow.” Blossom approached the black waters, so still they reflected the night sky back flawlessly. Flurries of stars as far as the eye could see scattered above and below like snowflakes frozen in flight. The Milky Way ripped through the firmament, bleeding more stars clustered so closely together they glimmered ice-bright. “I feel like I just stepped into another world.”

Brick jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and drew up next to her. “Consequence of being away from all the city lights for a change.”

“Mm.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit as they watched the nightscape unfold above and upon the water. Brick’s eyes fully adjusted to the lambent starlight, but it was a cold light, and he wore only a thin, red hoodie to stave off the chill. Blossom noticed him shuffle beside her.

“Do you want my jacket?” she teased.

“Ha ha,” Brick groused. But it was fucking cold out here, now that she mentioned it. He had always been particularly sensitive to it in a way she wasn’t. “My sleeping bag should do the trick.”

They retreated to his makeshift camp, where Brick shimmied into his sleeping bag and Blossom sat on the mat next to him, perfectly at ease in the cold. She leaned back on her hands to admire the stars, content like she could watch them all night. Their gossamer light draped her like a veil, softening her edges and igniting her colors. Brick had the sudden urge to touch her, to prove she was no pearlescent dream, that the cold cornering him now was hers and not just the darkness.

“Why were you late tonight?” she asked out of the blue.

Brick lay back on the mat and looked up at the jeweled sky. “Finished the homework.”

Her laugh was as soft as the starlight, and she grinned at him over her shoulder. “Me too.”

Obviously. He wouldn’t put it past her. It didn’t matter, only, he didn’t want to have one more thing to worry about over the break while also spending way more time than usual around his brothers with nothing to keep their focus for eight hours of the day. But the knowledge seemed to please her, which was just as well.

“I told you I was coming tonight,” he said.

And yet, Boomer had blown up his phone texting him all evening wondering where the hell he was, why wasn’t he here yet, and didn’t he realize people were waiting for him? The last text was one he received when he’d touched down at the edge of the campsite and it was already dark: a candid picture of Blossom talking with Harry by a campfire, and she looked happy. Brick had not responded to it or to any of the other annoying texts. Kim had been more than happy to give him her chair the minute she saw him approaching.

“Here you are,” Blossom said, hushed and half-lidded.

Here we are.

Brick curled an arm under his head. “View’s better from down here.”

She worried her lip—did she even realize she did that? That he noticed?—but ultimately lay down next to him on the mat. “Oh, wow…”

The starscape shimmered far and above, and Brick began to pick out patterns in the cosmos. “There, Cassiopeia.” He pointed to a cluster of stars.

“You know your constellations?” she asked.

“A few.”

He could practically feel the aura of challenge she exuded like a pheromone.

“All right. Perseus,” she said.

Brick pointed to a long line of stars near Cassiopeia. “Right next to Andromeda.”

“That was a freebie to test the waters.”

Brick chuckled. “Sure.”

“Okay Star Lord, show me Gemini.”

Brick swept his hand south and west of Perseus to a pair of star lines facing each other. “A couple of gossipy bitches.”

She shoved him playfully, and he caught her with his free arm, pulling her close. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right. Next?”

“Let’s see… How about Leo?”

With one arm anchoring her to his side, Brick traced the patterns she called out with the other. Dead heroes and their monsters rose from glittering graves with every sweep of his fingers and kept them company in the dark.

She tugged at his sleeve as he searched for the elusive Pyxis constellation. “Hey, we should probably get back to the party.”

Brick let his hand drop. “Why?”

“Because we’ll be missed, obviously.”

He chuckled. “I bet someone’s missing you.”

Blossom rolled onto her side to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He’d taken her to breakfast. It wasn’t a date; he hadn’t technically asked, and she only came because she was hungry and didn’t want to go home yet. It was the first time he’d ever seen her cry—no, sob because of what some dumb girls said to her at a party. Just the normal high school bullshit, and she’d fallen apart. Breakfast was the fucking least he could do after the ignominy of seeing her like that. It just turned out that it wasn’t the last.

Too many breakfasts and long hours spent prepping for finals turned into expectation, expectation turned into anticipation, and anticipation became the new normal. They weren’t together no matter what rumors Bubbles and Robin started and stopped. They weren’t not together either, considering they usually were, in fact, together. It had only been a few months since she’d handed Butch his balls wrapped up in a pretty pink bow and left Brick speechless to behold her, a few months since he’d found her insecure and vulnerable on that rooftop and called her beautiful because she was, holy fuck she was, and so much more.

Blossom was old wounds that should have healed long ago, that he should never have opened again, but she was still so new and he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

She slipped her hand over the cover of his sleeping bag and curled her fingers in his shirt. “Brick,” she said in a voice full of galaxies and longing.

He’d always liked the sound of his own name, after all.

When he kissed her, she tasted like starlight, cold fire. He pulled her closer, kissed her deeper, a step into the unknown, but the unknown was where she was and she was everything. Her breath hitched and she opened for him, just like that day on the rooftop, but he didn’t look away this time and she kissed him back like it had been her idea all along. Chemical X crackled on their flushed skin as he rolled onto his back and brought her with him, her weight on his chest a warmth and a fantasy.

Blossom’s long bangs fanned his cheeks as she hovered above him and he held on to her. He dreamed she might fall back into the sea of stars and he would dive in after her should he let her go. He didn’t let her go.

“I don’t actually want to go to Tahoe,” Brick said.

She laughed, light as a moonbeam. “Neither do I.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulled her down again. “Good.”

She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around him.

xxx

No one took much notice when Blossom and Brick popped up at the campsite after a protracted absence. No one except Bubbles, who passed Butch her perfectly roasted marshmallow, which he wolfed down right off the stick without waiting for it to cool. She discreetly got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of Blossom leading Brick by the hand to a couple empty chairs near Wes and Kim. When Brick leaned back in his chair and put his arm around the back of Blossom’s so she could lean into him, Bubbles had to work very hard not to squeal.

Clearly, Boomer sending Brick that picture of Harry chatting up Blossom had had the intended outcome.

She fired off twenty pictures to Robin.

[Bubbles: Yearbook?? 👀]

Robin, who was on the other side of the large campfire with Buttercup, Julie, Mitch, and the Floyjoydson twins, spat out her beer when she saw the pictures.

Bubbles snickered to herself.

“What’re you so happy about?” Butch said halfway through a game of Chubby Bunny.

Bubbles poked his mallow-stuffed cheek and winked. “It’s a secret.”

He rolled his eyes and stuffed another marshmallow in his mouth. “Laaaaame.”

Bubbles stole another glance at Blossom and Brick. She was laughing at something Kim had said, and he turned to whisper something to her. Bubbles bit her lip to hide her smile.

“But not for long,” she sang to herself.

Boomer came up behind Blossom and Brick and threw his arms around them both, laughing and pulling them close. Brick didn’t even try to push him off.

Not for long at all.

xxx

Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my writing and are looking for more PPG/RRB content from me, please check out my ongoing multi-chapter over on AO3 called Beyond This Morning. 😊

[kingssteve]

birthday gift | s.r.

steve rogers x reader word count: 2,104 summary: steve treats you to a nice birthday dinner and a splendid dessert. warnings: smut, unprotected sex (this fic assumes that the reader is on the pill and both parties have been tested and are clean, DO NOT have unprotected sex)

*****

You smile as Steve pours you another glass of the expensive red wine that he bought just for this date. You take the crystal glass from him as he reaches forward to hand it to you, clicking the rim of it with his after he pours himself some more as well. You maintain eye contact as you both sip from the glasses, setting them down next to the plates of chicken, rice, and vegetables that Steve’s made.

This is your first birthday with him—it’s almost been eight months since you made things official—and he’s decided that he wants to do something nice for you. So here you are, sitting at your kitchen table, in your dining room lit only by candles, eating a meal that he’d insisted on preparing all by himself. You’re wearing a dress that hugs your body and accentuates you in all the right places, and he’s wearing a dress shirt, dress pants, and a tie. His jacket’s hung on the back of his chair, and your small sweater’s on the back of yours.

Classical music is playing softly in the background of your chatter and your forks and knives clinking against your plates, and you’re both nearing the finishing points of your dinners. Steve’s telling you about the mission that he’s just gotten back from when you both finally finish the meal. You start to stand, taking your dish with you to the kitchen, but Steve stops you. “It’s okay. I got it.” He smiles and kisses your temple, clearing off the table.

You step up behind him while he’s rinsing the dishes, your bottom lip trapped in between your teeth as you smirk. “I’m gonna go change out of this suffocating dress so we can just relax, okay?” You press a kiss to the back of his neck and he nods before you pad into the bedroom and closing the door, ridding yourself of your dress.

You take a breath, pulling the lingerie set you’d bought last night from its spot in your closet. You step into the black lace panties, and clip on the matching push-up bra. You pull on the stockings and clip them to the garter belt before stepping back and looking at yourself in the mirror.

It’s different. You’ve never seen yourself like this before, but you realize that you’re sexy, and that you look amazing in what you’re wearing. You really deserve a pat on the back for pulling off this one.

You step over to your made up bed situate yourself so that you’re kneeling, sitting on your feet, in the very center of the mattress. The position makes your back arch and brings your chest up as well as your ass out. You take a deep breath before calling out for your boyfriend, who’s still in the kitchen cleaning up, like the gentleman he is. “Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?” He answers, and you hear the sink shut off.

“Wanna come in here for a minute?”

“Sure,” his footsteps can be heard down the hallway, and just before he opens the door, he asks, “something wrong?” He pushes the bedroom door open and sees you on the bed, dressed so scantily.

“Not at all.” You smile as you watch his eyes scan your body up and down.

He raises his eyebrows, shutting the bedroom door behind him as he steps in. “Wow, you look…” He steps over to you slowly, his eyes wide. “Incredible.”

“I know.” You giggle and he chuckles as you push yourself up and reach for his tie, starting to loosen it from its knot.

He interrupts by putting his hands on your waist and wastes no time pushing you onto your back against the sheets, attaching his lips to your neck and positioning his hips between your thighs.

Your hands make their way to either side of his head and urge him to face you. His eyes meet yours and soon his lips move up your neck, to your chin, and then to your mouth. You close your eyes to soak in the blissful moment as his lips move against yours, and soon after his tongue probes at your mouth. You open it for him and your tongues clash together in a passionate kiss.

You tug on his tie, loosening it and breaking the kiss to pull it over his head. His hands move up your legs, over the stockings that go halfway up your thighs. Your fingers fly to the buttons of his shirt, working nimbly to open them. “You’re not naked enough.” You breath out. He chuckles and helps you remove his shirt. Once it’s off, you toss it across the room and move on to his belt, unbuckling it. He stands at the foot of the bed and and hands replace yours on the button of his dress pants and after he unbuttons and unzips them, he lets you push them down his thighs. You move to your hands and knees to be closer to him.

His pants aren’t even off before your fingers dive into his boxers, your hand wrapping around his semi. He lets out a small moan and you feel him getting harder by the second. He kicks off his pants fully just before you tug down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. You tilt your head down toward his cock, taking the tip in your mouth, before he gently pushes on your shoulder, signaling for you to move away.

You look up to his face, making eye contact with him and giving him a confused look.

“It’s your birthday, babe. We’re gonna do everything that makes you feel good.” He tells you. “Lay back.” He points to the other end of the bed and you quickly lay your head back on the pillows.

Steve kneels in between your feet at the end of the bed and nudges your knees apart, laying on his chest and dipping his head down to kiss your inner thighs. He reaches to unclip your stockings from your garter belt, and removes both items from your body, painfully slowly.

“Stop going so slow.” You whine, your fingers nestling in his hair as he looks up at you from between your legs.

He takes the lace material of your panties, one hand next to each hip with the fabric between his pointer fingers and thumbs. A rip forms down the middle as he pulls it apart, watching himself destroy it.

“Steve!” You scolded. “I just bought those!”

“Couldn’t wait any longer.” He mumbles before pulling the material away from your most intimate area. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He hooks his arms around your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your pussy.

You moan and push your hips toward his face. He pulls you back down against the bed, licking a stripe from the bottom of your slit to the top of your clit. You let out a breathy moan, your fingers tangling in his short, blond locks. “Steve.”

“What, baby?” He asks, his mouth still moving against you.

“Give me more.” You manage.

“More how?”

“You know how.”

“I wanna hear it.”

You huff, annoyed, taking a deep breath because you’re pretty sure that if you tried to talk now all that would come out is a loud moan, because his tongue is still moving expertly against your pussy, and you know he’d stay down there forever if it meant you’d keep squirming underneath his touch. “Put your fingers in.”

“How many?” He questions, taking his right hand from your thigh, locking eyes with you as he awaits your answer.

“Two.”

He quickly pushes his middle and ring fingers into you, his thumb moving to replace his mouth on your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back. “Steve, fuck!”

You’re confused as to why, in only eight months, he knows what makes you scream better than you do. Your thoughts are interrupted by him beginning to pump and curl his fingers inside of you.

“Another one.” You say, in a trance because of what his hand is currently doing to you. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he complies, adding his index finger to the mix. “Go a little slower with this one.” You request. “Your fingers are so big.”

“I can take one out, babe-”

“Don’t.” You say, letting out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding, almost to prepare yourself for the assault you were about to be under from three of his thick fingers.

He pushes three fingers in and out of you, like you asked him to. He picks up the pace once he can tell that it’s starting to feel much better for you, and he continues until you come, his fingers still moving inside of you as you come down from your high. He takes his fingers from you, making sure that you’re watching him as he licks them clean.

“I need your dick now.” You say, almost whining.

He stands, positioning his knees in between your thighs and kissing up your neck as he grabs hold of his cock, running it over your slit a couple of times before finally pushing in. You don’t let go of your bottom lip, trapped in between your teeth, until he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

“How are you that fucking big?” You ask, shifting so that he’s sitting more comfortably in you.

He chuckles, closing his eyes. “You okay?”

You wait just a moment before nodding, moving your hands to the sides of his face and looking him in the eyes when you say yes and tell him to start moving. His arms are occupied holding him up, although he wishes he could run his hands up and down your bare skin right now. He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in. Hard. You’re sure that after a few forceful thrusts, your brain is turned to complete mush. You’re no longer saying real words, and you’re reduced to a moaning mess underneath Steve.

After a few minutes of exchanged moans and hot, sloppy kisses, Steve pulls out of you, earning a confused look. “Hands and knees.” He tells you, and you do as he says, because there’s no way you can say no to him when his hair is messed up from you pulling it and he’s out of breath and sweaty from how hard you’re going at it.

You get onto your hands and knees in front of him, and as one of his hands takes hold of your hip, the other positions him at your entrance. You feel him slide into you once again, and you move your left hand out from underneath you to behind your back for him to hold. He takes it in his much bigger one, lacing your fingers together as he begins to pound you from behind. Soon, enough, you’re on the verge of your second orgasm.

You squeeze his hand. “S-steve-”

“I know, babe, I’m right behind you. Let go for me.” He thrusts harder, until he feels you tighten around him and let out a long, loud moan of his name.

He thrusts a few more times before coming to a stop and spilling himself into you, his hands landing on either side of you, his chest pressed to your back. He takes a second before pulling out, letting you lay down as he stands and grabs a cloth from the bathroom to clean the both of you off. As he wipes up the mess that you both made all over the insides of your thighs, he leaves soft kisses in the cloth’s wake.

You smile adoringly at him and run your fingers through his hair as he wipes up the remnants from your activities just moments before. Once he’s done, he folds the cloth into a little ball and tosses it into the bathroom. It lands on the loud with a loud, wet, slap. He picks up his boxers from the floor, pulling them on and stepping to your dresser to pull out one of his t-shirts that he knows you keep in there, as well as a pair of panties, and hands them both to you as he pulls the covers up and lays down next to you. You wriggle into the panties and pull the shirt over your head, moving to lay on his bare chest.

“I love you,” you kiss the middle of his chest, “so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses the top of your head, his hand at the top of your back hugging you just a little bit tighter. “Happy birthday.”

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

Call Ahead Part Three

[Part One] [Part Two]

Leonard held his phone up to his ear, but before get any sort of greeting out your voice came over the line, “I know he’s my brother and I should miss him, but I really hate when he’s home. Can’t he get his own apartment? Or at least put a sock on the door? I mean, come on! I do not want to come home from a nine hour shift to see that! I’m coming over by the way.”

“You are?” he chuckled.

“Yes. I can’t go home,” you continued ranting. “I’m going to have to get it professionally cleaned. Soak the whole place in bleach.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“The hall.”

He hung up as he stepped out of his apartment. “Social customs mean nothing to your family.”

“I called ahead,” you said, walking past him to the living room.

“Calling three feet from my door is not calling ahead.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Now, I didn’t say that.” He closed the door and turned to you. “Anyone ever tell you you look incredibly hot in scrubs?”

“No, because no one I talk to is crazy.” You looked the way he was watching you and amended, “No one else I talk to is crazy. I look gross.”

“You look gorgeous.” You shook your head as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t believe you’re almost done with your residency. I’m missing everything on that damn ship.”

“Trust me you’re not missing much. Except the interspecies orgy happening in my living room.”

His eyes widened and he moved back towards the hall. “Am I?” You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled. “He’s just blowing off steam.”

“Well, could he blow it somewhere else?” He raised his eyebrows and you sighed and rubbed a hand across your face. “Yeah, poor choice of words. Appropo, but poor.”

“Why are you still living with him. You’re almost thirty; it might be time to move out,” he suggested, as he walked to his kitchen.

“I am not almost thirty!” you voice was a little higher than you intended.

“What’s wrong with being thirty?” he asked from the fridge.

“Nothing. Just like there’s nothing wrong with being forty,” you called back, taking a seat on his couch.

“I’m not forty!” You heard the fridge slam and laughed. After a few more slams he walked back into the living room.

“It made sense when he suggested it.” You rested your head on the back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “He’s rarely ever here; he doesn’t need his own place and when he is here, we get spend more time together.”

“That made sense to you?” he asked, sitting down next to you.

“Yes?”

He chuckled, making you look up. He was holding out a small tub of ice cream to you. A silver spoon stuck out of the top of the frozen treat. You glanced down at that label.

“You hate that flavor,” you stated confused.

“You don’t.”

“No.” You slowly took it from him. “It’s what I eat after-”

“Hard shifts,” he finished for you. “I know. Figured today qualified.”

You moved your gaze back up to meet his. “I think I love you.”

You had been doing whatever this was for years, but it had never been serious. The distance had made getting too close difficult. At least that’s what you told yourself. Leonard knew better. You weren’t ready for a serious relationship, scared of what it could mean, and he never pushed you. He knew your walls would come down when you were ready.

He blinked at you. “What?”

Digging out a spoonful of ice cream, you shook your head. “No, no, I’m sure. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

“Bones!” a muffled shout sounded, accompanied by a loud banging.

You groaned, closing your eyes tightener. A warm arm wrapped around you, pulling you into Leonard’s chest.

“Are you still in bed?” More banging.

“James is a menace,” you grumbled.

“Dude, it’s almost nine! Up an’ at ‘em!” Still more banging.

“Almost nine?” You sat up, looking out the window to see the sun had fully risen. “Are you kidding me? I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” You scrambled out of bed and Leonard rolled onto his back.

“Your whole family is a menace,” he muttered to himself.

“Watch it,” you warned. “I need pants.”

He hummed and asked, “Do you?”

“My brother is standing impatiently in your hall, probably armed with gross stories of last night and theories of where I’ve been for the last ten hours.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “You really want to play this game right now.”

With a sigh, he gave in, “Your yoga pants are in the bottom drawer.”

“Thank you,” you chimed, pulling them and an old t-shirt you kept at his place from the dresser.

“I know this might sound crazy, but we could just tell him,” he suggested, sitting up.

Your head snapped around to look at him, your jaw slack and your eyes wide.

“Would it really be that bad?” his question was punctuated with a yawn.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation, pulling on your shirt on your way to the master bath.

“Why because it would make it real?”

You turned to him, toothbrush in hand. “I’m going to ignore that because I know your extra grumpy, when you can’t sleep in on Saturdays.”

When you had finished brushing your teeth, he was still giving you a dispoundant look.

“Babe, this is real. But you know how he is.” You replaced your toothbrush in the holder by the sink. “He might trust you with his life, but he won’t trust you with me.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. You could tell he wanted to have a serious conversation but his eyes kept drifting closed and he was barely containing a yawn. Somehow the longer he was upright the closer to sleep he got.

“Doesn’t matter. How I feel won’t change his mind,” you skirted the question. “Put some clothes on. I’m going to go replicate us an alibi.”

A couple minutes later, Jim’s banging had gotten louder. “Come on, man! I brought doughnuts!”

“What a coincidence.” You swung the door open, synthesised paper bag in hand. “So did I.”

He gasped your name. “What are you doing here?”

“Great minds,” you smiled, taping your bag against his, before going back into the kitchen. “Wasn’t sure it was safe to go back to the apartment. Figured you’d head here when you were done.”

“Yeah, sorry, last night.” He rubbed at the back of his neck as he followed you to the island. “I didn’t realise what time it was, and I-”

You cut him off, “Ya know what. I think this is one of those things where the less that’s said the better.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So where is the big man?”

“I told him he had to put pants on before he could eat breakfast with me,” you explained, grabbing some plates from the cabinet. Luckily after living with the boys on and off throughout college, Jim never questioned you too much when you showed up at Leonard’s place, knowing his organization system.

“I appreciate that.” Jim pulled a maple bar from your bag and set it on his plate.

“Fuckin’ morning people. Stupid pants. Stupid sun,” Leonard grumbled angrily under his breath as he came to join you. He slid into a stole and propped his head up on his hands, his complaints growing more and more intelligible by the ‘stupid’.

“Doctor, we’re losing him!” Jim said in a fake panic.

“Get this man some coffee! Stat!” you joked on the way to the replicator.

With a chuckle, Jim bit into the maple bar. His eyebrows rose and his eyes narrowed at the pastry as he chewed. Leonard had one of the health conscious replicators. It wouldn’t synthesis real sugar. Leonard swore up and down that it didn’t taste any different, but Jim knew the difference.

Tags: @abigailredgrave​ @anbrax5553​ @revolutionaryteens​

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here - Part 14

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 4600

Rating: M. Mention of sex, language, knives... nothing too explicit, though. 

Parts 1-13 + the interludes can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)!

Summary:  As Billy recovers from hs injury and the holidays get closer, what does it all mean for the two of you?

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

@banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogers @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @likethetailofacomet @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @shinebrightlikeafanbase @littlemermaidprobz @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @dreamwritesimagines @waytoobsessedwithmyfandoms @lexxierave @ms-delos @elanor-of-imladris @lynne1993

Billy had stayed in the hospital for two days following admission just to be on the safe side, but when he’d been released, you’d been there to pick him up as requested. He had tried to pretend like he wasn’t in pain,  but you’d seen through it - the wincing and the holding of his side telltale signs that he was suffering a lot more than he’d let on. Billy hadn’t wanted to inconvenience you by staying in your apartment so you compromised for the first few days and stayed with him, wanting to be there when he needed you, even though he hadn’t asked and you’d had to offer. He’d thanked you profusely for the first week, sounding bitter every time the words left his mouth, and with very little prompting, you realized that Billy’s greatest fear was being considered weak. “It’s nothing.  Fuckin’ bullet isn’t even in there, I’m fine.” He was doing things on his own that you knew he shouldn’t have been, but you were thankful that he wasn’t trying to go back to work, wasn’t trying to work out… he was letting his body heal, and Billy healed fast.

Billy’s mood got worse each day that you denied him sex; not because you didn’t want him, but because you didn’t want to hurt him. Though the wound was healing on the outside, you were well aware of the fact that things likely were moving much more slowly on the inside. Three weeks after Billy was released, he was laying on your couch on his side, flipping idly through TV channels. “There’s nothing on.” He groaned, waiting for you to bring dinner to him, carrying the plates with ease. “I’m fuckin’ bored.” Billy sat up, running his hands through his hair - still short on the bottom and longer on top - and then over his face, where his beard had grown out. “C’mon, I’m fine.” He pulled you onto his lap as soon as you set the plates down on the table, a surprised gasp coming out of your mouth as you felt his hands moving against your skin beneath your sweater, his lips going to the skin of your neck and latching on. “It’s been weeks, don’t you want me?” He breathed the words against your neck and though you shuddered at the sound of them since it had been so long since you’d been with him, you knew you had to push him away again.

“Billy…” You sighed, hands moving up to his head and through his hair, pulling his face away from you. “Come on, don’t make this harder for me.” He shifted beneath you, mouth opening in a whine as you felt the telltale sign of his arousal.

“Hard for you? What about me?” You sighed, shaking your head. “Oh, come on!” He tightened his hold on you, his dark eyes locked on yours. “You’re gonna make me wait forever? I’m not a fuckin’ cripple.” Billy’s accent had gotten thicker as the days passed, his annoyance growing, and though you still had the idea in the back of your head that he would walk out, leaving you for someone that would give into his demands, Billy showed no signs of walking away, no signs of wanting anything  - or anyone - but you.

“Billy, we have less than a week. We agreed on a month.” You shook your head. “December 22 is the official date that I will feel comfort-”

“That’s another four days.” He raised one eyebrow, hand sliding up further beneath your sweater, fingers brushing against your lace-covered breast. “I’ve never had anyone push me away for as long as you, you know?” He was smirking, fingers stroking over your skin. He’s not going to win this one. “A month? We’re gonna waste a month?” I hurt you, and we’ll end up wasting a lot more than that.

“I made you wait two months before, and that was before we were even dating, Russo.” You leaned in, kissing him on the mouth and biting down on his lower lip, feeling him swipe his tongue against your mouth as you pulled away. “Four more days isn’t gonna kill you, and it’s going to give me some extra peace of mind that you’re not going to bleed all over the bed.” He sighed, pouting and slumping backwards against the back of the couch, hand moving back to your waist. “Plus, you can think of it as your early Christmas present… anything you want.” Billy’s eyes darkened in the glow of the TV and the lights from the Christmas tree you’d set up in the corner, brightly colored wrapped presents stacked beneath it. “It’ll be worth the wait, Russo. I promise you.” You kissed him once more, sliding off of his lap and onto the couch, curling  your legs beneath you as you ate. Four more days.

The time passed quickly, and on the morning of December 22 at 12:01 am, Billy climbed into bed with you - his heated, naked skin moving against yours. “You promised.” With a grin on your face, you nodded, pulling his face down to yours as you arched your back, pressing your body against his. “What’s this?” You grinned as he moved his hand against you, sliding it down over your abdomen. “Already naked?” With a nod, you raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue - and he did, wordlessly.

---

Christmas Eve was spent with the Castles, the two of you joining the four of them for an early dinner followed by the opening of presents afterward. You and Billy had bought gifts for the family together, though you’d done the majority of the actual shopping while he was recovering. You’d gotten Frank and Maria a couples massage, and Billy had picked out an expensive bottle of bourbon for his friend, along with a signed copy of Maria’s favorite book for her; he’d gone to the signing in his time off from work, and even Frank had lit up at the sight of the weathered cover inscribed for the woman. Billy’s really good at gift giving. You weren’t surprised, because he was great with details, but at the same time, you knew how little he’d had to look forward to as a kid, how few people he’d had to buy things for… and so it was especially touching to see how he was with his closest friends. For the kids, each of them were given a gift card, and Frank Jr. got a new video game while Lisa squealed over her new purse.

Frank and Maria hadn’t gotten you any couples gifts, but they’d put some thought into what they chose for both you and Billy, and though you hadn’t known them for very long, they treated you like family, too. Billy’s eyes were shining, an easy smile on his face as he opened his gifts from them - a brand new watch  (one that Frank had known Billy had his eye on) and a jacket that you knew Maria had picked out - and the kids had made Uncle Billy a small basket filled with his favorite hair products, which he opened with the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his face. They were simple things, practical things, but you knew that they meant the world to Billy; it was apparent in the way that the easy smile stayed on his face the whole time you were opening presents. For you, Frank and Maria had opted for the practical route - a new pair of gloves, a recipe book filled with Maria’s handwritten cards and two new pillows - but again, everything was thought through, meant for you.

“You guys coming over for New Year’s?” Frank was leaning back on the couch, his arm curled around Maria’s shoulders, the other hand holding a beer. “Y’always do, Bill, and Maria’s parents are gonna take this kids this year.” Billy shrugged next to you, pulling you closer as the two of you sat on the loveseat.

“Probably not, Frankie.” Billy shrugged, taking a sip of his own beer. “Thought we’d spend this one together. Just the two of us.”It was the first time you’d even considered New Year’s Eve, and though you had figured you and Billy would be doing something, you hadn’t been sure. You also hadn’t known that he spent it with the Castles, but again, it didn’t surprise you. “I’ll let you know, though.” With a surprised look on his face, Frank looked between you and Billy but didn’t say a word, instead raising his beer and smirking, throwing a wink in your direction before he looked back over at Maria, who was grinning. Weird.

Just before eleven, you and Billy said your goodbyes and headed back to the city - Billy choosing to stay overnight at your place. After you both got ready for bed, Billy pulled you into his arms and sank down on the couch, pulling you down with him and kissing you tenderly on the mouth. “Merry Christmas.” It was only two words, but the way he said them shook you to your core, causing you to hold him more tightly for long seconds, the silence of your apartment surrounding you. “This is the first major holiday I’ve ever spent with a woman.” Billy sniffed and you shifted onto his lap, giving yourself the vantage point to look at him, watching the way that the twinkling lights from your tree danced across his face, bathing it in the bright colors and softening it even more than the expression he wore did. “You tell anyone I’m gonna say this and I might have to kill you.” He was joking - you could tell with the way he was smirking at you, but you knew that there was some truth to the threat - whatever he was going to say was a big deal.

“You got it, Lieutenant Russo.” You winked at him and he leaned down, kissing you again and moving his hand slowly up and down your arm.

“There’s absolutely nowhere else I want to be.” He took a breath. “Now, tonight, tomorrow… I wanna be here with you. I never felt this way about anyone before.” He paused. “It scares me.” He shook his head. “A lot.” I love you too, Russo. So much.

“That’s the best gift you could have given me, Billy.” You chose honesty with him, shrugging your shoulders and leaning in to press your lips against his cheek, pushing his hair away from his forehead. “I told you before, I just want you.” He nodded, looking back down at you and suddenly the serious tone was gone, replaced with his usual sarcasm.

“Oh, so I can take all your presents back then?” Pushing him gently away with a laugh, you shook your head. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned down, teeth grazing over your lip for a moment before he kissed you hard. “Let’s go to bed.” He cleared his throat, gazing down at you with a predatory look in his eyes. “You can demonstrate all the reasons why you’re on Santa’s naughty list this year.” His arm went beneath your knees and the other around your back, and Billy stood quickly, smoothly tossing you over his shoulder and smacking you on the ass once. Oh, he’s in for it now.

The next morning, you woke up before Billy, sneaking out of bed and back into the living room to start a pot of coffee. On your way, you paused long enough to grab your phone and pull on a pair of sweatpants and one of the hooded sweatshirts that were hanging over your desk chair, since you hadn’t bothered to get dressed when you and Billy had finished with each other at around 3 am. You were sore and spent, but you felt good, felt happy, felt satisfied, and it was all because of the man that was still soundly asleep in your bed, his long, toned body taking up much of the surface as he slept on his stomach.

Once the coffee was ready and you’d sent a few good morning/Merry Christmas texts to the Castles and your friends, you carried a mug for Billy back into your room, setting it down on the nightstand before sinking down gently onto the bed next to him. “Morning, Billy.” You leaned down, kissing his bare shoulder, lips making contact with the skin just beneath one of his surgical scars. As he stirred, your eyes traveled down his back, lingering on the fresh, still healing exit wound from the November incident. He was lucky, I don’t care how nonchalant he is about this, he was damn lucky. “Merry Christmas, Russo.” A grin spreading across his lips, Billy opened one eye and turned his head fully to face you, reaching up with his hand to touch the side of your face.

“Hey, you.” He shifted and rolled onto his side, the hand never leaving your face as his fingers tightened against your jaw. “Good mornin’.” You lowered your mouth to his, relishing the kiss - the way his lips moved against yours, the way he anticipated your actions, the way his other hand tightened against your hip as the kiss continued. He pulled away first, falling back onto the bed and staring up at you, his hand falling into your lap, the fingers finding yours and lacing with them. Every movement was natural - they all seemed practiced though it had only been a few months, and your heart ached again at the thought that you likely wouldn’t be spending the next Christmas together, since he’d be deployed. Don’t think about that. “You bring me coffee?” You tore your eyes away from Billy’s and looked over at the nightstand, nodding. “Good, I’m gonna need it after last night.” He sat up, leaning against your headboard and reached for the coffee, taking a long drink before he spoke again. “I’m exhausted… you wore me out.” He smirked at you, tongue cleaning off a few droplets of liquid from his lower lip. “That’s rare for me, you know?”

With a laugh, you stood, looking back over your shoulder at him. “Come on, Billy, these presents aren’t going to open themselves.” With a grin of your own, you settled onto the floor near the tree, legs crossed. After  a few minutes, Billy joined you, gracefully settling down after depositing his coffee mug onto the counter. He was dressed casually, and as you looked at him, his profile standing out against the tree and the windows behind him, you got a glimpse of the future - of waking up to Billy on every holiday, spending Christmases and Thanksgivings and Easters together, building a life with him right there next to you. Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s been five months.

But even as he leaned forward, reaching beneath the tree to begin passing out presents between the two of you, you knew that there was no stopping your thought process. You were in deep, in it with Billy Russo, and it was more than the five months of officially dating - it was the time before, the initial eight months of getting to know him casually, followed by the seven months of deployment. It was nearly two years of you falling in love with the man despite knowing better, and as he placed a small box in your hand, you knew that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t trade any of it. “Here, open this one.” Billy’s voice was filled with excitement, and you eagerly took the package - which was wrapped perfectly, all crisp edges and flat folds - sliding your finger beneath one of the paper edges.

He made you open all four of your presents before he would even think about touching his stack, and by the time you got to the final one - a large box, you were fighting to keep your breathing steady. Billy knew you, knew what you liked, what you wanted - even what you needed. He saw you, he listened to you, and he understood you in ways that you didn’t think  were possible. “Careful, Billy,” you joked as you bit your lip after setting your final present off to the side. “You’re this good at gift-giving, people will think you actually have a heart.” His laugh filled the room, and he shook his head.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Growing serious after a few moments, he looked at you, eyes widening and a small frown on his face. “Did… Did I do good? Are they … okay?” They’re perfect. You looked down, fingers moving your gifts so that you could look through them again, even though you’d just opened them. The small box had been a set of sparkling geode coasters that you’d had your eye on since the day you and Billy had been shopping before Thanksgiving. A slightly larger box had been a pair of slippers and a sleep mask, along with a set of blackout drapes for your bedroom. Those are for your benefit, too, Billy. He was always complaining about the light that seeped into your room, but now he wouldn’t have to anymore. The third box was a bottle of your favorite perfume - one that you’d been putting off buying for yourself because it had run out a few weeks after Billy had returned home and the expense wasn’t something you could justify. The fourth and final box was large and heavy, and Billy had leaned against the couch as you opened it, one arm resting on the cushions. It was a new knife set for your kitchen - complete with a mountable magnetic strip that would free up a ton of counter space - and a custom made cutting board, the varied colors of wood arranged artfully into a gorgeous pattern.

“Billy, everything is…” You shook your head. “Yeah, Billy. They’re perfect.” He sighed in relief, letting a breath out and you nodded again. “Seriously, Billy. This is... “ You shook your head again. “Thank you.” He grinned and you reached over, handing him his first present. “Start with this one.” You cleared your throat. “I went with more practical things, Billy… I wanted…”

“Shush, and let me open my Christmas presents.” He had his tongue between his lips, looking down at the gifts in front of him intently. “You used like half a roll of tape on each one.” With a laugh, you watched as he opened his first gift - a new pair of boots that were identical to the pair he often wore - with the difference being that the new pair actually had tread on the bottom and a pair of non-frayed laces. He looked up, winking at you before he moved on to the second gift - a new iPod, since his was old and only had a small amount of storage. “Why do I have the feeling that if I turn this on, there’s already gonna be a ton of music on here?” He tapped on the box, shaking his head.

“You know me too well, Billy.” Shrugging your shoulders, you didn’t say anything else as he reached for his third gift - a long, thin box - and you saw his eyes light up. I should have wrapped that in something else. He knows what it is. When he had torn the paper off and opened the box, Billy looked up at you with a look in his eyes that you weren’t prepared for. “I thought…”

“A blade?” He licked his lips, wrinkling his nose and groaning softly. “It’s gorgeous.” He picked it up off of the cushion that it rested on, wrapping his fingers around the handle and turning it in his hand as if he was checking the weight of the double edged blade - which was illegal in New York City, but had been shipped to you with no problem. When he spoke next, his eyes were locked on the shining metal and his voice was low, almost a purr. “It’s perfect.” Billy brought the blade up to his eyes, scrutinizing the edges before gently running a finger against one. “I love it.” Your heart seized as you heard him say two of the three words you were waiting for, but then as his  eyes moved away from the weapon and locked back on you, it began beating again - the look in them a combination of arousal and honesty and appreciation. Goddamn, Russo. “Thank you.”

“The last two aren’t…” His eyes widened and Billy looked down at the ground, realizing that he still had presents to open.

“There’s more?” You nodded and he made quick work of the large flat box, which contained two thermal sweaters with slightly different textures that you’d been dying to see him in since you saw them in the store, knowing that the way his long arms and torso filled them out would be absolutely delicious. “Red and green… how festive.” Billy was laughing, but you watched as he ran his fingers over the soft material, appreciating the way it felt in his hands. “Ok, last one.” This is the one I’m nervous about. “It’s heavy!” He laughed as he peeled the paper back, fingers working to open the simple, dark colored box contained within. “What?” He took a breath and looked up at you, surprise in his eyes. “What’s this?” You paused before you spoke, reaching out to touch what Billy held in his hands - an etched glass block with the Anvil logo inside of it. “Anvil?”

You nodded, scooting closer to Billy and tapping on the glass with a fingertip. “It’s a reminder of what you’re working toward.” You paused. “A reminder that I believe in you.” Always. “Something to keep you motivated while you figure out how you’re gonna get that company.” A reminder of me. “Don’t give up on that, Billy. Don’t you dare.” He was silent for a few moments, staring down at his hands, and then he set the block down carefully atop a pile of the wrapping paper that was scattered around the two of you, taking a deep breath. Your heart was pounding as Billy stood, reaching out to you with one hand. Without pause, you reached up to take it, letting him pull you to your feet and into his chest, his hand dropping yours as both of them moved to the sides of your face, holding you in place as he lowered his mouth to yours.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse, the words quiet. “This is the best… the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He sighed, kissing you again, no urgency in his action, your hands going up to his forearms, fingers wrapping around the muscles there. “You’re… the best…” He trailed off, leaning his forehead against yours, hair falling forward and against your skin.  “I…” He stopped, took another deep breath and continued. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel the slight trembling of his hands. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.” He was speaking quietly, and you could tell that he was second guessing his words. “I thought you’d… God, I don’t even know what I expected, you know?” You were swaying back and forth slightly in place, Billy’s thumbs stroking over your cheeks as his breath hit your face. “Fuck.” He swore, shaking his head slightly, and you tightened your grip on him.

“Me either, Billy.” With a sigh, you turned your head and leaned it against his chest, feeling his chin resting on your hair. “Guess we know each other pretty well, huh?” He laughed and agreed, falling silent as you stood in your living room together. You’d had great Christmases before - plenty of them, spent with family and friends and a warmth that you thought couldn’t ever be rivaled, but none had been like this. None of those past holidays compared to the way you felt with Billy’s arms around you in your quiet apartment, the way your body reacted to him whispering into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. He’s here. He’s with me. This is mine.

When Billy pulled away from you, he gestured down to the paper and ribbon on the floor, one eyebrow raised. “As much as I want to say “fuck it” and leave this here until later, I think we should clean up.” You nodded, swallowing hard. “We’ll clean up and then I’ll install the magnetic strip, and…” He trailed off, looking into your kitchen. “You can play with your new knives.” Oh, Billy.

“You gonna play with yours?” Stepping away from him to get a trash bag, you heard Billy inhale sharply from behind you, but he didn’t move until you were back in the living room, crouching down to stuff the torn paper into the bag you carried. “Well?” Billy dropped to his knees next to you, wordlessly grabbing at the paper and crumpling it up.

“I thought I had a knife kink.” His voice was low, words laced with double meaning. “I think I might have overlooked yours, though.” You didn’t say anything, reaching for more of the trash, and then Billy’s hand closed around your wrist, squeezing. “Or maybe yours is because of mine, hmm?” Finally looking up at him, you met his eyes, knowing full well that they gave you away. He’d been buried in you for what had seemed like hours the previous night, andyet you ached for him again based only on a few words and the memories of what he could do - and had done - previously with you in bed with a blade. “You trust me with your body with something I’ve never held before?” Without hesitation, you nodded, eyes never leaving his and his next breath left him in a hiss.

“With my life, Billy.” You swallowed, licking your lips and reaching for him with the hand he wasn’t holding on to, your fingers raking through his hair. “Always.” He surged forward, kissing you with a ferocity that you were unprepared for, mostly teeth and tongue, and you were breathless when he pulled away, eyes almost black.

“Spend New Year’s Eve with me.” The words were rushed. “Please. I want to start my year with you.” You nodded, whispering the word ‘yes’ to him, and even as you spoke, Billy’s eyes widened, almost as if he thought you’d tell him no, that after what you’d just shared, you wouldn’t want to spend the night with him. Is he crazy? Is that really what he thinks… “Thank you.” Billy leaned in and kissed you again - slower and more controlled this time, his tongue delving into your mouth and moving against yours, lips soft and warm. He broke the kiss, teeth closing around your lower lip and tugging it backwards as he inhaled through his nose. “The kitchen can wait.” You nodded again, closing your eyes, only opening them again when you heard rustling near the floor.

Billy had reached down with one hand, opening the box that his new knife was in, fingers curling around the handle again. “Don’t tease me, Billy.” Your voice didn’t sound like yours, and you had a brief thought about the fact that it was Christmas and you were most certainly not going to be doing anything with Billy that could be considered good behavior, but you didn’t care. Your eyes followed his movement as he lifted the knife, rising to his feet, the cold steel hanging inches from your face. Without thought, you reached up, fingertips making contact with it as you brought your eyes up to meet Billy’s, which were trained on your face.

“Stand up.” It wasn’t a request, and you complied immediately, breath getting caught in your throat. “This what you want?” Billy raised the knife back into your field of vision and you nodded, watching as he twisted it back and forth slowly. “Good.” He sniffed again, leaning in, his lips right next to your ear. “Good girl.”

---

[harryandmolly]

A Sunday in February

summary: a little pre-Grammys snacc for you, my friends. Shawn and Emma return. and because it’s me, it doesn’t come easy.

warnings: language, Georgie Being Georgie (TM)

WC: 1845

On a Sunday in February, Emma wakes up with a start. She awakes out of a dream, the kind you don’t remember as soon as your eyes open but you want to chase after it, pick it apart, separate it into little piles to analyze. It was an important dream.

She sits up slowly, careful of her aching muscles. She went a little too hard at Pilaticardio yesterday the same way she’s been doing everything at 150% lately, like putting even more effort into her daily life will somehow secure her the Grammys she’s nominated for.

Best Country Song. Best Country Album. Album of the Year.

She hasn’t even let herself think those phrases since she first heard them associated with her name. She’s not even superstitious. Or… she wasn’t.

There’s a creaking sound. Emma squints at the door. She beams.

+

“... and sometimes the rain has gotta fall.”

Emma felt that one. She doesn’t even look up at her producer Erin, just grips the music stand and leans back, taking a deep breath away from the mic.

“Perfect, Em. That was perfect,” says the voice in her headphones. She nods shakily. She knows.

Running her tongue along her lower lip, she slides her enormous phone out of her too-small pocket. No texts. With a cool bobbing of her head, she slides her phone back in her pocket.

“Should I go again?” she asks.

+

Georgie steps inside with a breakfast tray. She wastes no time clambering up onto Emma’s bed. The plate she bears is dotted with silver dollar pancakes surrounding a misshapen blob in the center. Emma lifts her eyebrows and before she can begin to speak, Georgie rolls her eyes and huffs.

“Ok, listen, so I bought this pancake form online, right? I ordered it from Etsy from this chick who can make, like, whatever your heart desires. So, obviously, I ordered the Grammys trophy, ya know, the little gold record player thingy? But when you try to make a pancake of that it comes out all… fucking weird.”

By the end of her sentence, Emma is cackling. She’s forgotten all about her dream. She slings an arm around her sister’s shoulders and picks the pancake up with her fingers, biting into what should be the base of the record player, wiggling her eyebrows.

“You’re the most beautiful moron I’ve ever seen,” Emma assures her through a bite of an otherwise very well made pancake. Georgie burrows into Emma’s side with a blushing chuckle.

“At least I have that going for me.”

+

Shawn’s hand slips off the cool metallic window frame. The heel of his hand butts into the window and he steps forward to right himself with a gasp. His already heaving chest feels like it’s cracking in half, so, Shawn supposes, this might as well happen.

He doubles over, planting his hands on his knees as he pants. He hangs his head, slams his eyes shut and tries to imagine her and what she’s doing right now.

It’s 4am in Los Angeles. Emma is sleeping for at least another two hours. She’s in that big bed all alone, probably curled up on her side like she does in the summer when she keeps her bedroom too cold. In the winter, she cranks up the heat, splays out like a starfish, sweating into the sheets. And she never learns.

Thinking of her calms him through this, this… whatever it is. Calling her, hearing her voice would end it completely.

But he can’t.

+

Emma sits up so the woman putting makeup on her neck can sweep down into her decolletage. The stereo is blasting “Kerosene” by Miranda Lambert so loud the makeup artists have given up on trying to yell over it -- they’ve developed their own sign language. Emma’s distracted, chewing on the inside of her lip while her butter blonde hair is blown out into big, fat curls -- less Dolly Parton, more Victoria’s Secret Angel. Her instructions this time, not Sandra’s.

Georgie and Angelique stand behind her, both on their phones, both bobbing their heads to the music at exactly the same time. Neither of them has noticed yet. Emma watches in her vanity mirror with a shimmering grin.

+

Emma heaves a sigh before the voicemail beeps. “Hi. I guess you’re asleep. That’s ok. I mean, it’s fine. I should really be asleep too. Just… wanted to hear your voice. You know how I get. I’m fine, though. Don’t freak out and feel like you have to call the second you wake up. Because I know how you can get too.

“It’s just… a lot. The Grammy thing. You’ve lived through this. And it’s fine, clearly you recovered. I’m sure I’m overthinking it. That’s what we do, though, right? We’re musicians. We… feel things. God, I’m not even making sense. Ok. Listen. I love you. You’re the best. Hopefully I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye, Taylor.”

+

As they wait for the limo to arrive, Emma’s focusing on remembering not to chew on her bottom lip because it’s painted with red lacquer more carefully than Michelangelo painted the Sistine fuckin’ Chapel. Her phone buzzes.

Hey little girl! Got your voicemail. So sorry I can’t call. I know where you are. I’ve been where you are. You think you’re on top of a mountain. After all, how could you not be at the top? Three Grammy noms on your first studio album as a solo country artist. How much higher can you climb? I got news for you, kid. You’re not on top of the mountain. You just found the first place with a kickass view. So what do you do? Stop and look around for a minute. The rest of the mountain isn’t going anywhere, it never has. It’s waiting for you. So take a look. It’s beautiful up there.

P.S. check the surrounding rocks for the initials T.A.S. carved in. We all gotta leave our mark somehow.

Love you back.

+

Shawn’s head buzzes against the window with the vibration of the moving car. Anna elbows him, reminds him he’s wearing foundation on his forehead because he’s been breaking out. Nerves, and all.

He nods and pulls his head back but continues staring out the window. His knee has been bouncing for at least a half hour as they wait in the line of cars crawling toward the red carpet.

He’s been on who knows how many red carpets by now. He’s never been more anxious than he is right now.

And he knows exactly why.

+

Georgie hums in Emma’s ear about holding her phone in her bag. Emma hands it off, nodding. All she’d be doing is scrolling through early red carpet arrivals, anyway. She’s not expecting to hear from anyone else.

She’s in a custom blood red Christian Siriano. It looks like someone poured liquid satin down her body and let it drop into a train of shimmering fabric with a slit up to her thigh. Sandra would’ve said it’s too old for her. Margaret would’ve said red’s not her color.

Emma pats a curl back into place and smirks down at her strappy red sandals and red clutch.

Emma chooses what is and isn’t her color now. Tonight, red’s her color.

Maybe gold too.

+

Shawn lifts a hand out of his pocket and draws his fingers up into a peace sign. His smirk lifts into a full smile, but it’s a little dull, half-hearted. He feels like he can’t walk two steps down the red carpet without glancing back down toward the arrivals area.

His heart beats a pounding rhythm in his ears, so loud it mercifully drowns out the crew of paps screaming “SHAWN! SHAWN!” for just a bite of his attention. He keeps one fidgeting hand in the pocket of his midnight black slacks and turns on the heel of his patent leather shoes.

If Emma saw them, she’d say they “shiiiiiiine like the top of the Chrysler building.” She quoted “Annie” whenever she could.

There’s a flurry of energy at arrivals. Shawn glances back.

+

Yasmin takes one more puff of powder to Emma’s face and another swipe of gloss across her lips. Georgie is talking Emma’s ear off, but she can barely hear it over the roar of camera snaps, fan cheers and event organizers barking at each other.

Angelique is talking, too. Emma just stares at her with her “I’m listening” face.

But she’s not. She’s not listening to Georgie, not listening to the pinging of her phone in her clutch, not listening to Yasmin as she reminds her what angles to hit and what jewelry she’s wearing.

The door to the limo opens. The sound gets louder. It doesn’t matter.

Everyone is looking inside. That, Emma’s used to. She’s even used to the noise. But she’s not used to this feeling, the one that’s got her hair standing on end and her shoulders tensed like she’s the slut in a horror movie and she’s first on the kill list.

She scoots to the end of the seat closest to the door and ignores that maybe it’s her Sandra-enforced training that’s getting her out of the limo and not instead ralphing into a plastic bag a block away outside an In-n-Out.

She puts a leg out first, then extends her hand to the greeter as she ducks her head to save her flossy curls.

Somehow, like rom-com queen Nora Ephron herself designed it this way, she knows it’s him as soon as she feels his hand take hers. She freezes and turns her head, eyes wide, lips parted.

Shawn, looking wild eyed and sweaty with a grin plastered on his beautiful, miraculous face, helps her out of the car amidst crazed, unrelenting fan shrieks, shutter snapping and paparazzi calls.

“SHAWN! SHAWN! EMMA! LOOK THIS WAY!”

Emma can’t feel her legs, but she’s standing on them with her hand in his, dumbfounded for all the world to see.

“How…?” she gasps, ribs shuddering with her aching lungs.

Shawn smirks in that warm, mischievous way he does. “C’mon, Em, you didn’t really think I’d miss this.”

Emma swallows a sob. She lifts her shaking free hand to her face as her lips quiver. Georgie smiles from inside the limo, swiping through the silenced notifications on her sister’s phone --

Shawn Mendes makes surprise appearance at 2020 Grammys! -- The Hollywood Reporter

*Le GASP!* Shawn Mendes Shocks the Grammy Red Carpet! -- Perez Hilton

Sometimes the rain’s gotta fall down, but not today! Shawn Mendes makes a surprise appearance on the red carpet to support his ladylove, 3x Grammy nominated country singer Emma Kingston! -- E! News

With a devious shake of her head (and a wink out the door at Shawn, her co-conspirator), Georgie slips out the other door and offers Angelique a sly high five.

Shawn cups his big hands around Emma’s face and doesn’t even bother to look her up and down before he says, “You look incredible.”

Emma sinks her fingers into Shawn’s forearms and whimpers into his lips before she can even finish getting out the words, “I love you.”

The cameras flash. The girls shriek. The heads turn.

The whole world watches, but they can’t see inside. That’s just for them.

Support me unending habit of writing one shots for series I’ve already finished and buy me a Ko-fi (link on my home page)!

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @stillinskislydia @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @accioarmenian @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 19

The newby fighters thankfully handled media horrendously, answering questions in choppy six or seven word responses. Sure, it limited the material and made the story vulnerable to the writers embellishing devices, but the speedy conclusion of the often clock-stopping, boring event was never one complained about amongst the journalistic world.

When I stepped outside in pursuit of the strangely near empty bar, I pulled the sleeves of my blazer off and draped it over my forearm, sliding my clutch between my bicep and ribcage. The crisp, white silk of the tank top swayed with the calm, cool breeze of the nighttime air, mixing with my nervously sweating skin, creating an array of chill bumps over my flesh. An exiting patron held the door open as I swept inside the dimly lit sports bar. There weren’t many tables, only 3 tv’s, and no blasting music. Hence the lack of customers, I’m sure. Colton was easy to spot, hunching at a high-top near the glass front of the building. He hadn’t ordered a drink yet, once again, trying desperately to execute that military like, gentlemanly manner his father Michael, had instilled in him, presumably. I dropped the weight of my tired body in the un-cushioned wooden seat, and huffed aloud in the relief. “That didn’t take too long,” he stated first.

“Those two were complete media virgins. They didn’t have much to say.” I confirmed as I massaged in the sanitizer I applied to my palms, and scanned over the sparse clients.  

“Want me to grab you a drink or somethin’? I didn’t know if you were still a martini girl, so I held off.” Had his accent become thicker with his hair?

“Actually, I’ll just take a seltzer. Lime on the side too, please.” Tia would probably be able to sniff out the scent of alcohol in my sweat like a hungry hound dog, and have my tail for drinking while training.

She had graciously granted me a pass on my birthday, so I didn’t see it wise to push my luck any further. Come to think of it though, when in the actual hell had I become the girl to drink seltzer water and lime?

My ex now turned waiter for the moment returned with a small square tumbler filled with fizzy, clear liquid, and a long neck in his other hand. His black shirt painted over the ripples of his back, the muscles there moved like thickened water down the spread of him. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he shops for himself. I can only imagine his decision-making unraveling something like, “yeah, black t-shirt. I can always use another black t-shirt.”

“Thank you,” I said between lengthy sips. “And thanks too for, um… the flowers. They were stunning. You really didn’t have to, but it was a sweet gesture, Colton.”

“So I did okay, huh? They’re your favorite?” He hoped with questioning eyes, taking a quick pull of his sweating beer.

“Yes, Colt. They’re my favorite. You did well. Extremely well.”

“I owe you another 50 dozen more, Liv….”

Here is comes. The conversation was about to take a dicey dive into the abyss.

“It’s not flowers I need, Colton. I think you know a million dollars’ worth of pretty bouquets won’t fix, this.” I drew an invisible line through the space from me, to him, “It’s not gonna fix us. Or, whatever us there was, I guess.”

He sat his half empty beverage on the scuffed table tap, and I noticed the glass chatter against the surface. He was shaking. This wasn’t the angry, poked bear shaking though. This was the abused, cowering, wounded bird shaking.

“Yeah, Liv. I get that, okay? I just didn’t know where to fuckin’ start, ya’ know? I didn’t wanna get too pushy..” he began, while drawing nervous figure-eights with his callused finger tips along the cracks in the table top.  “But, I gotta know. I ain’t tryna put you on the spot or nothin’, but is there any fixing it, babe? I have no right to asking you this shit, I realize that. But, just give me somethin’ here, Liv. Should I just write us off?”

The million dollar question. How was I supposed to give him the answer his desperate eyes so anxiously desired, when I didn’t have it myself? I loved Colton Ritter, no matter how blindly I wanted the fact to be untrue, there was no refuting it. But, I couldn’t shake the reluctancy I felt towards him either. That apprehensive, yet yearning brew filling up my gut. The next words I spoke to him would be the defining moment of what my future held, so I hesitated. Taking as long as I needed to sort through the perfect retort.

“You act like that’s such a simple question to answer, Colt. You have no idea what you did to me for Christ sakes,” my fist gently, but effectively smacked the table, clinking the glass beverages there. I refrained from chewing his hide in nagging anger, but I wasn’t about to hold back on what I truly needed to say. “I was a literal basket case. As damn foolish and weak as that may sound, it’s a fact. I missed work, I made myself sick from the unrelenting crying. Like, seriously, there was actual vomit, Colton. I wore your fuckin clothes around the apartment like a lost mutt!” I could see him tense entirely, almost wincing aloud in shame and heartache. And I half wondered if maybe he’d done some of his own shameful grieving during our time apart. “Every day for nearly a year felt like one big, constant punch to my gut, making it almost hard to even catch a decent breath. I’ve been better for a while now, but every single day, your stupid, smug face finds its way into my head….” I allowed myself a pause to try and extinguish the burning tears I knew were about to come loose, but there was no use. Once the first fell, I just opened the watery dam. “If I’m being honest, part of my really just hates you. A big chunk of me, as a matter of fact. But I know the love is still there, as much as the hate. Probably more,” snubbing through my tearful fit. “I don’t think I’m ready right this minute, Colton. For us, I mean. I think I might be at some point, but who’s to say… I can’t name the day and time. So, if that isn’t enough for you, and you feel like I’m a waste of your time, then yes, you should just move on.”  

Th brawniest, hard as stone man I’d ever known, raised a hand to wipe dry his weepy eyes. It wasn’t a hysterical, sobbing outburst, and an actual tear may not have fallen free, but they were there. The glazy sheen over his blue toned eyes tonight gave him away. He blew out the breath he’d apparently been holding in before his mustered the composure to speak back.

“I’m on your time, Livvy, alright? I’ll just stay outta your way, and if ya’ want me, you know I’m here. I fucked up. Royally, to say the least. There is so much I wanna say, and I hope you gimme the chance to piece it all together for you someday in the near future. I’m sorry seems to be the most important thing right now. And I’m gonna say it every day I have the chance. I’ll hang back as best I can, okay? And if someone else so happens to come along, for either of us, then I guess that’s that, huh?” He reached forth his hand to graze as gently as a summer breeze over my resting fingers, a current of G-force energy rattled through my every internal organ. I didn’t jerk away from his touch this time, instead allowing myself the loving awakening I had longed for the past days without him. He’d be the death of me, whether it be in happiness or misery, I wasn’t sure.

“I think that sounds like the best way to handle it, Ritter. I can work with that,” I sheepishly smiled, curling an auburn strand behind my ear. “Now, I better get home and get some sleep.” Picking my clutch up first, then swallowing the last mouthful of my drink, I stretched my petite legs searching for the ground below me. Before I could drop on my heels, he had swiftly came to my side, offering his hand out to steady my drop from the heighted stool. The man was so full of these sickeningly, syrupy sweet courtly gestures, and I might as well have been licking the plate.

“Let me walk you to the car this time. Please?” he almost begged holding my jacket open for me to slide my arms in.

“How about I walk you to your bike, and we’ll call it a night.” It wasn’t a question. I wanted to seem as independent as I could to him, while also establishing again that I’d be okay without him if things didn’t pan out with our relationship.

I went out on a wobbly whim and locked my arm through the empty crease in his elbow, while his hand was snuggled deep into his jean pockets, and out of a side eyed glance, and detected a half smile on his lips. “My bike is right here on the corner. Is you car close?”

“Close enough. Don’t you worry about me, kid,” I winked before breaking my clutch on his arm as we reached his black bike parked by a ticking meter.

“Hey listen, Liv. I’m thinking about sticking with Temple Fitness. Y’know like, staring up a membership to train there and stuff. But if you’re not good with it, then I’m out.” He remarked strapping his helmet around his bearded, calico chin.

“I think I can handle it, Colton. Just stay outta my way, big guy..” it was clear by the playfulness of my high pitched, girl giggly that I was testing the waters with some flirty banter. The saluted “yes, boss” he tossed back told me he was aware of my joking tone. When I took a couple slow paces in exit, bidding him a goodnight, he met my steps, and leaned in for a hopeful kiss to my pert cheek. \

“Not yet, Colt. Not yet, okay?” The dangerously close presence of his lips to me could’ve shot me a million feet in the air above us. But, I had to keep the line drawn, for now anyways. He wasn’t out to the woods yet.

When I gave him my back in search of my own car down the sidewalk, he yelled my name, muffled through the visor of his helmet.

“Hey 2-1!” I turned slightly, never ceasing my footsteps, careful not to lose my balance while walking backwards in my strappy shoes. “You look better than ever, babe. And I’ll happily take my punishment for sayin’ it.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, and I curled my lips up with brows raised in disbelief, yet satisfying pleasure, winking with no words, and went on my merry way. I heard his bike fire up with an almost lion like roar, and he sped off in the opposite direction. Revving his accelerator, no doubt in teenage like, hormonal ego.

 The next morning, all too bright, and much too early I entered the office hanging my sleepy head, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events the previous evening. Through groggy rasps, I served my morning hellos to passing co-workers, determined to reach the noiseless four walls of my office and downing the contents of my Styrofoam cup. If I timed it just right, I thought maybe I could even sneak a 30-minute powernap sometime around the 10 o’clock hour. When I crossed the concierge desk, Layla, the awkward, mousy receptionist waved a hand to halt me.

“This package came to you this morning, Ms. Elliott.” The box rectangular box, wrapped in wrinkled brown paper had apparently been delivered early morning to the office.

I thanked Layla the messenger, and stepped over the threshold of the empty elevator. The package was unmarked, only adding to the quizzical allure, but I held my eager hands from slashing through the wrapping until I got into my private office. I blindly flipped on the single light switch, my purse thudding onto the neatly organized desktop calendar. I ripped the first corner of the box opened before I was even sat into the swivel seat, when a small folded sheet of paper fell into the floor.

Livvy,

Thought you may need this. The other one seemed little ratty. I think I cut it just how you like them. There’s plenty more where this came from.

Love,

Colt

I dropped the lid of the package, peeling back a translucent layer of tissue paper to find a white, slightly dingy colored Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt. One I very much recognized as belonging to the gift giver himself. A weak smile had instantaneously crept across my face as I ran a thumb over the fading of the smooth polyester blend. I pondered, and settled on a decision in that second, that I was going to unapologetically relish the games he’d be willingly to play to win back my affection. I wasn’t wholeheartedly dreadful though, and I knew sending him thanks for the thoughtful efforts was the right thing to do, so I sent him a text to extend some reserved gratitude. Giving him the impression I was appreciative, but wasn’t eating out of his veiny hands just yet.

Tia was distant as of recent. Cold as a sparkling Pittsburgh frost before dawn. The conversation we had about my exchanges with Colt weren’t half as pleasant, and supportive as my phone call with Sara. Tia hated the man, not saying I blamed her. No matter what he said, or didn’t say, the gifts he gave, or the groveling that arose, she wasn’t forgetting the past. Colton Ritter was blacklisted indefinitely in her book. So much so, I even had to gulp down concerns that fizzled for my own friendship with her.

Climbing the steel steps of the cage with her was never too terribly intimidating before that night. I always knew no matter how repetitive she’d  be with her promising that she wouldn’t take it easy on me, I could always sense the restraint of her moves. Yet again, before that night… The trifling stomps of her bare feet across the mat would’ve signaled danger, if the haughty shove passed my shoulder hadn’t already. “Chew that rubber, Elliott,” she yelled unkindly, instructing me to hurry with my mouth piece so we could get the session underway.

She was bouncing upward, shoving her knees into her chest, stretching to shatter my thighs with one of her categorical back kicks. Willow was crouched in the floor beside the metal confines, arms crossed about her chest in curious observation, Tia’s harshness not unnoticed by her and the onlookers in the workout room. We danced the usual mirrored waltz across the octagon from each other, each waiting for someone to stretch forth searching for the first connecting jab. Before my mind had a single minute to strategize an assault, Tia lunged lowly to bearhug my legs right from beneath my own body, and my elbows nearly ricocheted off the canvas floor. The sweat of my attacker was already profusely flowing, more so from the rumbling anger, and probable resentment she was feeling for the likes of me. We wormed around on the patched ground, she grabbing a lock around my legs, me tugging on her extended forearm. Amongst our grunts, and gasps of pain, a very confused and scratchy voice sung out above all else.  

“The fuck? Liv?”

My eyes beckoned toward Colton’s wide stance next to Willow, but Tia didn’t let up. The more I fidgeted for release, the tighter she wound her meager form around me. When the match between us didn’t halt, I heard his intrusions slice the room again.

“LIV!” But this time, it wasn’t a questioning tone. He was demanding acknowledgment, and more importantly an explanation.

My “friendly” opponent loosened her vice, and I lunged a swift, fumbly kick to shake her off. If my face wasn’t already reddened from the efforts of the spar, it sure would’ve been painted with  a bright shade when I stood to see the concerned contortions of his always tempting mouth. With his hands raised in dumbfounding confusion awaiting his answer, I rushed towards the cage door to meet him in the corner he was heading to.

“THIS is what you’ve been doing here, Livvy? What the hell?” He was lazily scratching a hand through the brown of his beard.

“Not that it’s a single ounce of your business, Colt, but yes. Started a few months back, Tia suggested it.” My feet firm and solid under his disapproving stares.

“Oh, c’mon Liv. I don’t mean to sound like a bossy prick about it, ok? It’s your life, you can do what ya’ want with it. It just… I dunno.. scares me, I guess…” I turned to notice his restless hands, squirming in fists at his side, and his teeth visibly grinding behind closed chops. “I hate myself for hurting you. How did ya’ think I was gonna take to seeing someone smash a fist to those pretty cheeks, babe?”

My gloved fingers didn’t hesitate to seek out his own, stilling his concerns. I intertwined our digits, and I swear I felt the life creep back into me.  His eyes closed under feathery lashes, and there was no denying the husky exhalation that purred from him at our connecting flesh.

“I’m not some.. some weak kitten, Colt. I know you think I’m just a lowly damsel who needs a constant eye watching over her, but, that’s not the case.”

Although maybe very “me: Tarzan, you: Jane” to the outsiders perspective, Colton was very… well, male. He considered his place as my partner to be one of the valiant knight, shielding me from any oncoming harm. My humble opinion? It was all part of his blue collar, endearing charm. But, he’d have to reel it in on the aspect of my fight training.

“It’s not that I think ya’ need it 24-hour surveillance, kid. As a matter of fact, I think it’s just a shot to my ego that you don’t need it, ya’ know. I just wanna protect ya’, alright? Damn it, you’re always makin’ me… makin’ me talk so much, 2-1.” He enfolded my small hand tighter under his grip.

“I appreciate that. My very own lethal prrotector, huh?” I winked and wet my bottom lip catching his eye. “Ask Tia though, I hold my own with these gloves, big shot. Be careful, or you may have to find out first hand.”

Cool it, hormones. You might as well just jump his bones right here.

The flirtation went crawling like a cold shutter obviously over his roasting skin, and his eyes were swirling through shades of blue. “I would happily take that beating, sweetheart!”

Walk away. Now. Go liv, you’re drooling.

“I gotta get back to her though, or I’m gonna pay the price. See ya’ around?” I was securing the gloves assuredly, ready to bid riddance to him before his animal senses detected my feminine excitement, and he held me back.

“I’ll be around, yeah. Oh, hey girl! Nice shirt, by the way..” I went for a drink of my room temperature sports drink and nearly gagged on it. No way he couldn’t notice I was sporting the package he’d delivered a few short hours ago.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Mollymauk Tealeaf wakes up in a grave by the road ten years after he died. Things have gone a bit wrong since then and he might be the only one who can set things right… since it’s the Mighty Nein themselves who’ve gone wrong. AU: Where Molly comes back to yell at his super-powered Level 20 friends. (AO3 - part1) (AO3 - part 2) (AO3 - part3) (AO3 - part4) (AO3 - part5) (AO3-part6) (AO3-part7) (AO3-part8) (AO3-part9) (AO3-part10)

Mollymauk is getting accustomed to this teleporting thing.

He’s getting accustomed to a lot of things, really, like the dying. Like the constant apprehension painted in a thin, burning layer across the inside of his lungs. Like the taste of blood in the back of his throat and the way resurrection magic slithers through his body – like a climax but turned horribly inside out. Molly’s getting used to this dissociation now between his physical self and his soul as he’s pulled through reality from point A to point B. That tooth-click that keeps happening when he stops being nothing and exists again suddenly. That weird ‘pop’.

Molly pops back into being standing in what looks like a dim and unkempt professor’s study.

It’s a big room. There are long wood tables scarred with chemical and arcane fire. Books stacked and laid out everywhere, papers scrawled with shorthand that seems to slither on the parchment when Molly looks at it. The place smells of burnt ozone and there are fading white runes painted onto the flagstones beneath his boots. Suggesting to Mollymauk that Caleb’s pulled him somewhere very specific. He’d hazard it’s Caleb’s personal workshop by the vaulted ceilings literally top to bottom and wall to wall bookshelves stuffed and stacked with tomes.

Caleb Widogast is still gripping Molly’s hand. Like a man might have hold of a handle.

On immediate instinct, Molly tries to extract his hand. But Caleb doesn’t let go so they just stand there. Caleb is still just a little bit shorter than him, but his eyes are still lit from the inside by whatever power lives in him like a star dying behind his irises. He’s staring at Molly and as Molly watches, the blood and gore and the crushed pieces of dead insect that coat his skin begin to flake away, floating and peeling off like embers off a log until Caleb is whole and healed and his hand is hot around Molly’s knuckles.

Through his teeth, Molly says, “Let go of me.”

Caleb’s eyes seem to focus then, like he’d been staring at some other layer of reality until Molly’s voice brought him. His fingers unfurl and he watches Molly instantly back away three paces, massaging his hand where the wizard touched him, rubbing off whatever lingers in the ink and scarring. If he’s offended by this, he gives no outward sign.

“Don’t touch anything. I can’t promise the items here won’t hurt you.”

Molly tells him to go fuck himself in Infernal.

Caleb blinks, then says, “You say that a lot, ja?”

“Well, you haven’t listened to me yet and I really think you fuckin’ should,” Molly snaps, frantically looking around the room. There’s no visible exit, just a strange constant convergence of walls and shelves and acute to obtuse that don’t seem to quite follow the laws of geometry as Molly understand them. It makes the room simultaneously bigger and more claustrophobic. Molly finds breathing harder all at once. “What do you want from me?”

“To talk,” he says, “for now.”

Molly processing that for a minute.

Then snarls, “Are you out of your bloody mind?” When Caleb knits his brow, Molly waves his hands around. “Kidnapping me? You think holding me hostage is gonna do shit? I’m the magic undead teifling, you dumbarse. You can’t threaten me. I’m literally the most useless hostage you could take. What’re ya gonna do?” He puts on a sarcastic voice. “Kill me?”

“I don’t plan on it.”

Molly’s still got one hand around his own wrist, rubbing restlessly at the tattoo run over his knuckles. His fingers dig tight until the bones in his hand pulse with his own rabbiting heartbeat. His entire body feels wound too tight to take. Shaking to bolt or battle, but his hasn’t got any weapons now and he’s standing near enough to touch to a man that kills with one word. He consciously slows his breathing. Tells himself to stop bloody shaking while Caleb studies him head to foot. Incrementally. Like he’s committing details to memory.

“Will Caduceus be alright?”

“That cell has more air, if that’s what you mean.” Caleb circles to Mollymauk’s left. “I wouldn’t use a fire-based spell otherwise.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Molly steps right to keep the same distance between them.

“He won’t die,” Caleb says, still circling, forcing Molly to move so they’re slowly orbiting one another. Caleb never breaks eye contact and Molly’s heart keeps racing, panic telling him that, and just that, could be some somatic component in a spell. Caleb shrugs. “I don’t know if he’ll be okay. That’s a bad enchantment. It can, ah, affect people.” He waves a hand vaguely at his head. “You know, that way.”

“Torture spells are traumatizing?” Molly snaps. “Fascinating. Who knew?”

“You think Caduceus is so gentle.” Caleb’s brows lift. “So soft, ja?”

“No, he skewered a dragon and trades in man-eating beetles. I’ve met trolls that were less scary. That doesn’t mean I’m on your side.”

“Of course not.” Caleb stops to face Molly full on. “You’re on the side of those who raised you. It’s understandable.”

“Oi, bite me, Mr. Widogast. I was on your bloody side until you killed me on a whim and word.” Molly squares himself to the wizard. “Don’t try to play victim when you bring up demons and attack your friends without a kindness of warning. If you mean to make me see your reason in all this, I’m tellin’ you now it’ll be a hard fuckin’ sell.”

“I know,” say Caleb. “Mollymauk, I’m going to show you something, but you need to do a few things for me.”

“Ha!” Molly didn’t mean to laugh that loud, but he’s a little hysterical at this point. “I’m not doing fuck all. You can drag me around on a magic leash first.”

Caleb sighs, then waves a hand… and Molly starts to glow. Or rather, his mithril-chain shirt and his bracers start to glow. Also, the rings on his index finger and thumb. Also, the half-dozen charms hanging around his neck and the clasp around his right horn, and the empty sword sheathes at his hips. Molly is lit up all over, glowing from every magic source on his body which is – with Nott’s insistence – quite a lot of magical aid.

“Take all that off,” Caleb says, hand still shimmering with the detect magic charm.

Molly doesn’t move.

“I’m not identifying any of that shit,” Caleb says evenly. “Take all of it off.”

“Nott gave these to me.”

Caleb’s expression cracks. A slight widening in the eyes suddenly – not of surprise but hurt. Then it’s gone under a stern indifference and he tilts his head a little and raises his other hand, thumb pressed to his middle and index finger in the precursor to a snap.

“Last chance,” Caleb says.

“Nott gave all this to me,” Molly whispers, “to protect me from—”

Caleb snaps his fingers and the air behind him displaces as something massive just materializes in the space directly behind him. Molly jerks back, his hips hitting a worktable. The thing behind Caleb sort of… unfurls. A broad, muscular back shifts as gargantuan leather wings arch up and flare over the wizard’s tawny head. Blue hide, riddled in plates of scale, shimmers in the torch light. A long serpentine neck arches up and up until the beast turns giant predator-gold eyes to fix on Molly. Its skull is the size of a battle shield, its jaw long, draconic, and toothy. Talons big as coat hangers clack and scrap on the floor as what appears to be a bull-sized blue dragon rises up behind Caleb the way a hunting dog comes to quarry.

“Blue dragon wyrmling,” says Caleb, reaching up to pat the beast’s horrifying jaw. “They like magic. Frumpkin doesn’t get to play with anything magic in this form, you see. My work is too dangerous.”

“Caleb,” Molly starts to say, fingers, digging into the table edge behind him. “Don’t—”

Caleb says a word in Zemnian. On that command, his hulking familiar looses a joyous predator scream.

Then it lunges at Molly.

It tears past Caleb, so smooth it barely disturbs the wizard’s fine black and gold robes. Molly, to his credit, immediately hurdles the table, dive rolls, and comes up sprinting on the opposite end of the table. Frumpkin hits the table, missing Molly by inches, then it hits the ground behind him, claws scrabbling on the stone like an off-balance Labrador. Molly feels it on instinct when Frumpkin swipes at his back. He ducks right, going low, skidding, razor-sharp claws whipping through the air over his head.

But then he’s on the ground and Frumpkin is huge.

Frumpkin’s jaws snap closed on the back of Molly’s tunic and with a whip of his head, the hurls Molly against another long table like a cat slinging a mouse against a wall. He crashes through a pile of books which – wondrously – take flight and scatter like a flock of disturbed pigeons. It would be neat if a small dragon didn’t then slam Molly like a battering ram. The beast pins him under massive claws, landing so the pads of its feet are crushing Molly’s upper arms flat, his spine bent back over the edge of the table as Frumpkin the blue dragon wyrmling start to bite excitedly at the mithril chainmail beneath Molly’s tunic.

“CALEB!” His tunic shreds under eager dragon teeth. “FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Frumpkin drives his massive bony head against Molly’s chest and instantly cracks two ribs. Molly still manages to scream. Then Frumpkin is grinding an anvil-heavy skull against him like a cat might shove its face in a pillow of catnip except it’s his fucking ribcage and stomach. Frumpkin snuffles at Molly’s skull, chewing lightly at the clasp clipped to his horn before giving that up as a back job and rearing back to study him.  

Then Frumpkin’s jaws start to open, crackling with blue static, a long tongue lashing with sparks. Molly sees it coming but he can’t stop it. Frumpkin licks Molly’s neck which… you know, fucking electrocutes him. Molly chokes as a short, agonizing current rips through him, lashing every muscle in his body into a garrote-wire of tension before the current dispels into the wood and it’s over.

Molly isn’t conscious of Frumpkin getting off of him, only of hitting the floor and rolling onto his side, his entire body throbbing and his neck searing where the dragon-thing licked him. He smells burnt skin and ozone.

“Okay, ah, that was a bit much…” Caleb is saying. “Bad cat.”

“Fuck you,” Molly snarls, but it’s undercut with a sob. His entire chest pulses red rivers of fire with every breath.  

He curls his one arm around himself and just lays there in a heap with his forehead pressed to the cool stone, tail wrapped around his body at the knee. He has one palm pressed to the floor near his waist, but he can’t find the strength to get up. Through the feverish glow of pain, he feels a hand touch his neck and that cold palm smooths from the hinge if his jaw, down the line of muscle to his clavicle. A slow bleed of magic slides through the gash, like pouring liquid salve into the wound and from there it travels down, down, spreading out inside his chest until the hairline cracks splintered through his ribs go cold as well. Soon, there’s no pain left. Just a numb buzzing in the nerves.

Molly lifts his head.

Pale blue eyes stare back.

“Are you going to take off your enchantments or do you want Frumpkin to try again?”

Molly shoves Caleb in the chest.

This knocks the wizard onto his butt. He didn’t seem to have expected that, because he just kind of drops on his ass and blinks. Surprised while his gigantic wyrmling familiar sniffs at his hair. Molly levers himself into a sitting position. Then he starts pulling the rings off his fingers, palming them, before reaching up to remove the clasp from his horn and the earrings that stave off cold. He unstraps the bracers, pulls the charms from around his neck and sets all this aside. Then he glares, gets to his feet, and turns his back on Caleb while he reaches up and tugs his shirt off over his head from the shoulders.

That way no one can see it while he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

Molly puts his ruined shirt on the table while he pulls the chainmail off, leaving on nothing but the thinner, sleeveless under-shirt he’s been using to pad the chainmail. The rings are still leaving marks in his skin. He’s not used to armor. Molly starts to pull his shredded tunic back on over his head when he feels Caleb start to move toward him again and –

Molly whips around, snarling, the words going Infernal in his throat: “Back off!”

Frumpkin the wyrmling starts to growl, but Caleb waves his quiet. There’s pause. So, Molly turns back around and finishes pulling his clothes back on. There’s an ache in his bounding heart now, a low panic like a current in his blood that makes him want to double over and start screaming for the frustration of it. The fucking unfairness and stupid cruelty of it. He straightens his shirt and pushes his hair out of his face, then turns to look at Caleb.

“What now?”

“That wasn’t intentional,” Caleb says.

“You sicced your giant bloody cat on me.”

“I warned you.”

“Oh. Well. Alright then. All’s forgiven.”

There’s a tense silence.

Then, “Follow me. Don’t try to run or Frumpkin will sit on you again.”

And then quite suddenly there’s an obvious doorway on the wall to Molly’s right. Caleb crosses the room and opens it, going through, not stopping to check if Molly follows. Probably because Frumpkin is now standing directly behind Molly, breathing static on his neck. Molly pauses to glance back up at the giant familiar. He literally has Molly’s cursed sword sheathes between his jaws like a grinning dog with a stick.

“Your boss is a bastard,” Molly says.

Frumpkin just blinks and nudges him in the shoulder.

“Fine.”

Molly follows Caleb.

Through the door is a long hallway, mostly featureless and should be cold for all the empty stone space, but the air seems to be magically regulated to a comfortable room temperature. The silence is broken only by the soft slap of boots against the floor and the terrible scraping clack of Frumpkin’s talons. They walk through the hall. Caleb keeps surreptitiously checking a dark metal pocket watch as they walk, but the face of it is blank and makes Molly’s eyes hurt to look at it directly.

“The others are looking for you,” Caleb says.

“You don’t seem worried. I would be.”

“I have time,” he says, pocketing the weird watch. “Jester’s young god still needs time.”

“Famous last words.”

Molly glances at a hanging tapestry on the wall nearby – a map of a land he doesn’t know. He’s certain now that he’s passed it a few times. He’s getting the impression that Caleb’s lair really does not obey any laws of physics and the only reason they’re moving through it at all has to do with the wizard himself. Frumpkin, once more, nudges at Molly’s shoulder. Like a border collie keeping a flock of one in line, confirming this really isn’t his first time playing guard dog to visitors.

“The others have told you I’m trying to end the world,” Caleb says.

“No.” Molly folds his arms across his chest, tail lashing anxiously around his boots. “They were very specific that’s not what you’re trying to do, just a possible side effect of what you’re trying to do. That’s what they told me.”

“Hmm,” Caleb says.

Molly feels a heat flare in his throat. “What?”

“I thought they’d lie a little more. I’m surprised.”

“Maybe you just think all your friends are against you when really they’ve been busy – you know – being crazy with grief or kidnapped by demi-gods. Which, by the way, I’m curious, did you try to get Fjord out of there?”

Caleb looks over his shoulder. “Of course. Did they tell you I didn’t?”

“No.” Molly rolls his eyes, leering for effect. “But you’re such a jackass right now…”

“No one could reach Fjord,” Caleb says plainly, blinking. “None of my magic meant anything in the face of that. Nothing short of a god could get close and the only god we had was Jester’s. Fjord was gone so long…” Caleb pauses. “I thought he’d be insane by the time we got him out or thralled to the Serpent.” Caleb’s eyes are unfocused, looking sidelong and away. “It seemed impossible he might still be him.”

Molly hesitates before saying, “Fjord’s stronger than you gave him credit for.”

“Maybe, or maybe he’ll turn on the others in due time. Jester has a blind spot for him. Always has. She would not accept that Fjord might be gone. She obsessed and no one could talk her down from it. Not Nott or Caduceus or anyone. Maybe Beau could have talked her down, but Beau was gone and Yasha was gone and so…” Caleb shrugs and looks forward again. “She was taken too.”

Molly tilts his head. “You say ‘taken’.”

“Yes. There’s a difference.”

“You sure?”

Caleb glances again at Molly. “Caduceus left me. He promised he’d never do that, but he did. He wasn’t taken by anything. Neither was Nott, but I don’t blame her. She was scared. I scared her.”

“You’re a moron,” Molly says.

“Thank you, Mollymauk. Nice to have you back.”

“You’re both morons,” Molly insists, bending at the waist a little to put some emphasis on it, really enunciate. “Caduceus stuck by you because he’s an optimist who couldn’t see you’ve got your head so far up your own asshole there’s no fuckin’ sunshine. Caleb, I’m here to tell you.” Molly cups his hands around his mouth. “Pull it the fuck out, mate! You’re going to end the world because you feel bad about Beau dying.”

“You act like you’re the first to tell me this.”

“I know I’m not the first, but since you won’t listen to literally anyone else, the gods brought me back from the bloody dead specifically, I think, to tell you to stop being a bastard stuffed bastard in bastard sauce and just stop.”

“I can see why the gods in their infinite wisdom decided to intervene and raise you from the dead.”

Molly spits. “I didn’t come back from the dead to persuade you of shit.”

“Apparently.”

“I’m not your conscience, Widogast.”

“You’re saying that like I ever thought that was the case.”

Molly folds his arms again, gripping his elbows in his hands and swallowing, glaring at the wall to distract himself from the slow crush of panic and futility coiling around him. It seems impossible he was in the Blooming Grove less than an hour ago. That he was laying in the grass, chatting with Caduceus. That he’d been surrounded, however briefly, by familiar faces and there was a plan, however, tenuous, as to how all this was going to end and now… he’s here. The shock of loneliness stings his throat and eyes all at once.

“You know, I’m not sure what I am, really.” Molly drags a palm across his face, pulling his hair from his brow again, wiping his eyes. “I thought my job was to get everyone together to, I don’t know, dogpile you until you stopped being a lunatic, but that doesn’t seem to be working.” He glances at Frumpkin who bares horrible fangs around belt and scabbard set in his mouth. “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

“You got Fjord out,” Caleb says.

Molly blinks but Caleb doesn’t look at him, just keeps walking.

“It’s not your job to save us. You’re your own person. You don’t serve our purposes, Molly.”

“You can’t say that and hold me hostage, Widogast.”

“I know, but I’m a terrible person. Imagine someone better said it. It’s still true.”

Caleb’s hand is pressed against the wood of a heavy looking oak door. Molly can’t say when it was that the distance between the infinite hallway suddenly started to close, but it’s closed now and Caleb looks over his shoulder to meet Molly’s eyes. The wood beneath his hand is complex with runes and sigils, cut with some kind of arcane formula. It, like so many things in this place, ripples and changes before his eyes just looking at it. Caleb keeps staring at him, his burning stare inhuman and bright.

“Have they told you about Beauregard?” he says.

Dread drives a rod straight through Molly’s gut. His pulse rabbits fast.

“They told me a little. Like what she did, how she went down.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean have they told you about her. Do they talk about her?”

Molly hesitates. “If you mean, do they tell me funny stories about her, like what a shithead she was or the time she, I dunno, snorted oatmeal up her nose laughing at breakfast… no. They didn’t.”

“Ja. It’s hard for them.” He kind of looks away. “I remember her. I remember everything she ever said to me, actually.”

“Beauregard… she was pretty important to you.” Molly looks meaningfully around the giant mage-lair around him and the miniature dragon leering over his shoulder. “You’ve done a lot to save her. You’ve, well, you’ve pushed away everyone else who cares about you to do this. I can tell you’re dedicated but, speaking as a formerly dead person… you sure Beau would want to come back like this?”  

“They didn’t tell you she became our leader, did they?” Caleb doesn’t wait for Molly to answer or acknowledge his previous question. “She told me once, that she had a reoccurring nightmare. In this dream, she’s standing on that cart on the Glory Run Road. She can’t move, her boots are frozen to the wagon wood while Lorenzo kills you.” Caleb’s looking at him with this strange expression, unreadable as a wall. “I don’t think she ever stopped having that nightmare.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Molly says.

“She called you ‘the best of us.’”

“Wow, okay.” Molly managed an exaggerated laugh. “That’s just because you didn’t know me very well and your bar was low back then. I should have told you all about this one time, in this port town, there was this thing with noodles –”

“It doesn’t matter,” Caleb cuts him off, visibly irritated. “It doesn’t matter that you’re an obnoxious, loud, carnival man that we barely knew. It doesn’t matter that we never really understood you, that you kept secrets, and died before we knew them. None of it matters because when you died, Beauregard regretted that it was you, instead of her.”

Molly stiffens a little, shoulders tensing. “Look, that’s a nice notion and all, but from what I’ve seen over and over, none of you much remember me like I was.” A beat. “Like I am.” Another beat. “Like I was before? Ah, fuck it…”

 “Stop being flippant.”

“Sure. Stop holding me hostage.”

The wizard shakes his head, looking tired all at once. “You’re not going to listen to a word I’m saying, are you?”

“Caleb,” Molly says, “If you want me to listen, I would do that. You wanna sit down and have a cup of tea and talk? Great. I’d love that. Gossip is my thing. But I don’t think you’re trying to convince me of anything. I think you’ve already made some godawful decision and you’re just thinking out loud in my face.”

Caleb says nothing.

Just… stares at him.

It’s so strange. It’s Caleb, like it’s always been Caleb, just five degrees off Molly’s memory of the man – cleaner and more put together. He’s had a haircut and a proper shave. He looks like he should be on a council to something important somewhere, telling people to do things… but through every bit of that there’s still the fucking eyes. Just… empty and sad and resigned in exactly the same way he remembers but so much fucking deeper and blacker than that.

“I can’t talk to you,” Molly says softly, “if I’m a spell component and not a person to you.”

Caleb stares. “I don’t think you’re a spell component.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to know if you want to kill Beauregard.” He says it so blankly, so hallowed with exhaustion that it feels impossible that he’s been able to mask it until now. A deep festering despair in his voice that goes all the way down to the core of him as he laughs a little. “Because it seems now that everyone else in our little family has decided to kill her and it occurs to me that you, Mollymauk, might be the only one undecided on the issue.”

Molly doesn’t say a goddamn thing.

“Would you answer me?”

“It’s not as simple as –”

Caleb cuts him off saying, “Until I’m done asking questions, you should tell me the truth, Molly.”

And the suggestion takes hold of him. Gently. Not dominating but it slides over his tongue with such an easy familiarity Molly’s swallowed it before he can make even a token resistance and his shoulders kind of relax, tension easing out of his limbs for the first time since he was torn from the Blooming Grove. Caleb’s hand, holding something nonobtrusive at his hip, opens and he reaches up. It’s familiar. Molly lets him pat his cheek and thinks, unbidden, about Hupperdook and a very fucked up Caleb slurring, “Yeah. Th’only magical thing here… is you, friend.”

There’s something sticky on his palm. Smells like honey or…

“Just tell me what you think,” Caleb says.

“Okay.” Molly feels… strange, a little drunk almost but in a nice way, a mild anxiety in his breast that compels him say, “I don’t wanna kill, Beau. Bloody hell, of course I don’t.” It’s such a relief to say that, he goes on a little urgently. “Everyone is saying this is the right thing to do, but it makes my whole fucking body ache to think about. I don’t want to do it.”

“Do you think you can do it, if you had to? If it was down to you?”

“No.” The admission physically hurts to say aloud. Molly clenches his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

Caleb’s quiet for a moment.

Molly feels a hand on his head, pressed over his left ear, beneath the curl of his horn and he looks up at Caleb.

He looks strangely relieved. “Me too.”

“I’m not on your side, Caleb. It’s the wrong thing that I can’t do it. I can’t do it because I’m selfish and I don’t want to live with doing that to my friend… but I know it’s wrong.”

“I know.” Caleb laughs a little. “You feel poorly about that. I don’t. I’m not willing to kill Beau to save the world.” He shrugs. “I know its not fair or right, but she was… she really was the best of us. I can’t let her go like this.” He shakes his head, a wry smile suddenly on his lips. “This mistake. I don’t have to let it stand like the others.”

“Good people die all time,” Molly whispers. “The world’s not a fair place. It’s our job to make it fair as we can, but you can’t bloody do this.”

“My people don’t have to die,” Caleb says. “Not this good person.”

“Caleb, just stop—"

“You cared about Beau, yeah?”

“I died for her, didn’t I?”

Caleb studies his face and in his stare, Molly sees it – the bald-faced fact of it: He’s not looking at a man expecting to get away with anything. He’s not looking at someone with a tomorrow in mind. Then Caleb waves a hand and Molly feels the enchantment release its hold on his thoughts. It’s a cruel hand pulling a warm blanket off his shoulders and he’s standing in the sudden cold aftermath of the spell. All the compelled words sour suddenly on his tongue and a ripple of rage and grief lances through him simultaneously.

“I’m sorry. I needed to know where you really stood.”

And Caleb pushes the door open.

When he does, the air in the room rushes out. It’s freezing cold, turning Molly’s breath to fog instantly and penetrating him to the bone. He shivers, arms jumping up to tuck around his chest, his teeth chattering almost immediately in the artic chill. There’s light coming from the other room, cold and blue and anti-septic. It’s a large circular chamber, empty of everything, just stone walls etched in the same magical formula as the door except all the runes here glow gently blue, humming a slow two-two beat. Like a pulse.

Which makes sense because sitting the in the middle of the room, legs crossed, and facing them… is Beauregard.

She’s seated on a low stone dais. There is a barrier of blue light around the platform. The air glows around her, a vertical shaft of cold azure magic from floor to ceiling. She’s sitting as if in meditation, back straight, hands in her lap, eyes closed. She’s wiry and dark. Small and dense with muscle. Denser than he remembers. Her arms are probably bigger in the bicep than his now. Around her arms are silver bracers, smithed in the symbols of Ioun. There is blood on her fingers, on her knuckles, her lip split, her eye darkened with bruising and that… that makes her so familiar it turns something tense in Molly’s stomach.

Beau with a black eye.

Beau standing on the back of an ice-cracked wagon.

Beau screaming his name, her blue eyes wild in the dawn light, as Lorenzo –

“Why is she bloody?” Molly manages.

“She’s been like that since the day she struck down Oblivion,” says Caleb. He’s still got his hand on the door, his eyes on Beau. “Nothing touches her except divine magic. Caduceus and Jester used to heal the wounds, but they always return. Nothing we do stays. She always… goes back to the way she was in the moment she killed the Oblivion.”

Molly moves into the room. With every step toward Beau, the temperature drops, until Molly’s shivering so hard, Caleb must see it because he taps Molly on the shoulder and warmth slides through his clothes and insulates him in a thin layer of heat that makes his skin steam slightly in the freezing air. Molly moves close enough that he can see the light around her is not just light, but a thin, runic barrier – a magic layer of transparent blue writing so fine it looks like mist moving up and down the surface of the barrier wall.

“You can touch it,” Caleb says. “It only contains.”

Molly cautiously presses a palm against the magic and his hand cleaves lightly to it, like glass, like Beau’s a thing in a shop window he’s trying to see.

Molly can see now that the stone where she touches it is calcified and cracked, frozen as if by a spill of liquid nitrogen. Frost cakes the ground around the platform in shimmering white. The air near her is… humming. Shaking in Molly’s bones, buzzing down to the atoms that compose him. It feels awful and familiar all at once.

But he can see Beau clearly.

She is dressed in battle attire, or what remains of battle attire. The kind of thing you wear when you go to war for the gods.

Her long sleeveless jacket is shredded along the hem and shorn as if by a blade. The royal blue fabric is dark with blood which does not appear to have dried somehow. Her tunic is shredded open to the athletic small clothes beneath. There are etched and glowing bands around her arms, around her wrists, obsidian studs in her ear lobes that shimmer with enchantment. Her dark hair looks exactly as he recalls: shaved along the sides then knotted up at the top. Molly recognizes Yasha’s touch in the beads woven there in braids and plaits. There’s a tattoo of a posie beneath her right clavicle.

Molly’s throat knots up.

“Yasha and Beau…” Molly says, only after her gets his voice working. “Did Yasha—?”

“Marry Beau then lose her?” says Caleb. “Yes. On the same day in fact.”

Molly’s eyes burn. He clenches his hand shut against the barrier magic, leaning his weight against it. He can feel Caleb moving to stand at his right shoulder, watching him react but he doesn’t care. Frumpkin’s heavy footfalls place the dragon creature to his left, hovering protectively as Caleb touches Molly’s arm.

 “Yasha won’t survive it.” His voice is certain and indifferent as sunset. “Losing her completely after Zuella—”

Molly knock his hand off his arm, yanking away. “Don’t!” Infernal heat laces his breath. “Don’t you try to use her—”

“You know I’m right.”

Molly pulls his hand from the barrier. “You want me to help you, don’t you? You’re trying to get me to help you.”

“No.” Caleb sounds sorry. “Just… confirming some things.”

He snaps his fingers and there’s a flare suddenly from the light barrier and the color of the runes, glowing faintly from every stone surface, changes suddenly to a deep, seething purple. Black steam immediately begins to burn off the sigils and Molly lunges back from Beau’s alter, hands up like he can defend himself from anything Caleb is doing. The wizard is ignoring him. He has some kind of crystal in his right hand suddenly and he’s drawing signs in the air with the fingers of his left hand. The signs stay there, like ghost writing, shivering with terrible potential energy. Like a bow string pulled taut except pulled through the whole fucking universe.

Frumpkin bumps into Molly’s back, his tail lashing in a sudden half-circle around him, penning him in suddenly, wings flaring up over head.

“I think the gods are on my side,” Caleb says, still casting his spell. The crystal in his hand disintegrates to dust and he waves a hand. Summons a blade from somewhere and uses it to slice open his left forearm, but doesn’t stop casting. “I was hasty before. I didn’t see it.” Blood splatters the floor. “All the spells to bring Beau back are so complicated without sentient sacrifice. Willing sentient sacrifice. I’ve had to build workarounds. So time consuming but now it’s so simple…”

“I’m not dying for your bloody spell!” Molly snarls.

“You already did.” Caleb looks over his shoulder. “You died for Beau ten years ago and not just a little; you died a true death. You were dead of a different kind. The kind that matters and makes gods intervene.” There’s a smile then, on Caleb’s lips, both sad and victorious. “That magic is forever, Mollymauk.”

Light flares blinding from Caleb’s fingers, igniting the blood on the flood so it burns white and evaporates into a red steam. Caleb closes his eyes. He breathes in and the crimson effluvium disappears down the wizard’s throat and when he opens his eyes, they’re burning red as a blood-letting sunset. He turns and presses both hands against the barrier wall that holds Beauregard in. Red light injects itself into the magic, spreading out like a cancer along the surface of it.

Molly feels a pull. Not on his body but a pull he’s come to know in the transition between life and death. Every time Vax’ildan sends him to and from the plane between realms– something is pulling on his soul.

“Caleb!” Molly feels that pull again, hideous and cold and Molly hits the floor on his knees, clutching uselessly at his chest. “Fuck! Stop! Stop!”

“It’s okay, you won’t lose your soul,” Caleb says. “I just need it here…”

There’s a flare from the barrier wall and Molly screams as the light seems to shove himself out of his flesh and the sliding back in feels like falling into a solid slab of screaming nerve and blood and it hurts. It hurts. Molly’s doubled over on the floor, arms knotted around his body, tail curled around himself. This spell has no guiding touch on it. No raven knight errant gentling the transition between astral and material and its like dying a little over and over. Nauseating and awful.

“I’m sorry. Most sacrifices are dead when this is happening.”

“Oh really?” Molly grits, getting one knee under him.

“Just a little longer,” Caleb murmurs. “It’s just a little farther—”

Molly doesn’t let him finish. He snaps his fingers.

Instantly, there’s a flash of light from Frumpkin’s mouth as the empty scabbards in his jaws ignite with conjuration magic. Frumpkin’s head jerks back, the dragonling snarling in surprise. But before anyone can lift a finger, Molly pivots around and lunges at him, faster than he can remember moving in his life… and his fist closes around something solid. He dive-rolls past the familiar, tearing the scimitar from its scabbard. Molly spins up, sword in hand, breathing frantic.

Caleb is glaring at him.

“Stop fucking around.” There is a dark and throaty edge to his Zemnian accent. His eyes flare in his skull, burning brighter, fixed on Molly. “You think you’re going to fight me, Mollymauk?”

“No.” He shakes his head, breathing fast and shallow. “No, I can’t fight you.”

“I know this has been… confusing.” There’s blue flame gathering in the man’s hand. “It’s an admirable instinct, but—”

Molly reverses the sword. An easy, almost casual flip of the blade in a two-handed grip, and sets it point-first against his own sternum. No hesitation. No time. The hit at first: like being punched, the breath driven from his body, then the pain (the feeling Lorenzo taught him ten years ago on the Glory Run Road). Mollymauk shoves it through his ribcage and—

He wakes up standing on a hill beneath the shining moon.

He’s clutching his breastbone, fists stacked where the hilt of a blade was driven in the Material plane. The moonlight is shining, shimmering on his skin like a sheen of diamond dust on his knuckles. Molly stumbles. His knees give out but before he can fall, he’s suddenly tackled as a blur of blue and skirts and arcane light bursts into existence and lunges at him. He collapses against them, arms seizing instinctively around their neck and their hair is silky, chiming with silver, and smells like carnival caramel when he breathes in.

“Jester!” Molly clutches her, fingers sinking into her hair, hooking his elbow around the back of her neck as she laughs and hugs him back. “Bloody hell.” He plants a big kiss in her hair, catching the curve of her ear. “Fools flock together huh?”

“Molly! Molly! Fuck! Shit!” She’s kind of crushing his ribs. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? How’d you—?”

“Caleb didn’t kill me,” Molly whispers. He hugs her more tightly. “I did it myself.”

Jester freezes. Her fingers dig more tightly into his shoulder.

“S’alright, Jes.” He tries to laugh, but it’s not very convincing. “I’m a one trick tiefling.”

“Can you go back?” Jester whispers. “Molly, were you with Caleb? I can break through another way, but if you can go back–”

Molly pulls back, lets Jester cup his face in shaky fingers. “Caduceus put the Death Ward on me.”

Jester nods. Her eyes brim bright with tears, her pretty white teeth biting at her lower lip. Molly carefully mirrors her, fitting his hands around her dark, heart-shaped face. She starts to say something, but it comes out a sob, so Molly just drops his brow against hers and stays that way for a moment. Feels her tail lash protectively around his right knee, her fingers sink a little more deeply into his hair.

She murmurs, not words, but a low Infernal subvocalization that has no translation into the common languages of the realm – it just means… sadness, sadness, rage, regret.

“Tell me about it,” Molly says in kind.

Jester moves her hands down his neck, to his shoulders, his arms, taking his hands in hers.

“I’ll do it, Molly.” She squeezes tight. “I can stop him.”

“I know.”

A voice over his shoulder says, softly, “You will have half a moment.”  

Molly smells dust, old soil, the faint scent of decay – not of flesh but some older less transient material. Jester tucks herself close to his side, gripping his arm tight and it hurts how much strength he can draw from that. Molly turns. Vax’ildan stands again on the hill with them, beautiful and familiar, but unlike every time before… Molly can feel the eeriness in the Raven Queen’s champion. The size of him suddenly astronomical behind his physical presentation.

There’s darkness rising from his shoulders, a strange canopy that stretches up from his back and spreads out in translucent gloom. Molly hears the rustle of wings, of feathers, of a thousand, ten thousand ravens taking wing. When he looks up, he realizes the darkness is merely the massive arch… no… just the shadow of two leviathan wings. Vax moves forward and the moonlight avoids him where walks. Molly doesn’t flinch, even when he fits both palms to either side of Molly’s face and lifts his eyes.

 “ I can give strength you don’t remember, Mollymauk. But that’s all I can do. Are you ready?”

Molly pauses, then, “Kiss for luck?”

Vax’ildan – wreathed in darkness, gaze holding the mass of collapsed stars, the voice of the Raven Queen on his tongue – gives him a look. Then rolls his eyes and says, amused, “Fuck it. Kiss for luck.”

Then he leans down, tilting his head and kisses Molly gently on the mouth.

And Molly opens his eyes.

He’s standing in the same room, holding the scimitar point first against his chest, in the precursor of killing himself. There’s blood all over his forearms, his hands, and soaked through his tunic. But he’s still on his feet and Caleb is staring at him with this… startled expression. Eyes wide, mouth open as if in the middle of saying something. He’s still got one hand against the burning red magic that’s holding Beau, the other hand kind of raised in the attitude reaching or casting.

He looks frightened. That fades though as Molly releases his grip on the blade and it clatters to the floor. Molly exhales, his breath a silvery cloud and he backs up a little, shaking his head at if to clear it.  

“Why did you do that?” Caleb says blankly. “Killing yourself won’t make a difference.”

“It did to me,” Molly pants.

“Please, don’t do that.”

Molly stares at him. “Caleb, I wish I could I say I’m sorry about this… but you’ve been an asshole.”

And that’s when Jester – stepping out of the ether like a woman stepping through a door – grabs the wizard from behind and punches him. It’s not, like, a ‘how dare you slap’. She snatches his collar in one hand, rears all the way back, and cracks him across the jaw with the other. Caleb staggers, shoulder slamming against the barrier wall. He scrabbles at the wall, visibly struggles to stay conscious through what is certainly a concussion and a broken jaw. Jester doesn’t give him the time. She raises one hand over her shoulder. A massive lollipop bursts into existence – pink and white and brilliant with ribbons. Then she takes the handle in both hands and she swings.

She hits him like a kid playing stick ball.

There’s an arcane flare – of magic hitting magic and Molly feels it as unmovable object meets unstoppable force. The lollipop hammers a defensive spell Molly has no understanding of and the impact ignites the air in blinding radiance. Molly is knocked to one knee by the shock wave alone. A body launches from the center of the room like a rachet ball and then slam into the far wall like a rag doll. It’s definitely Caleb. He hits the floor in a heap, a swirl of passive magic siphoning around his body.

Frumpkin, by then, has finished tearing across the room and lunges at Jester, jaws full of lightning –

“Bad kitty!” she screams.

Her eyes flare white and Frumpkin poofs out of existence.

Caleb seems to be regaining consciousness. He shudders and levers himself up on one elbow, head hanging low as he sways dizzily. He coughs blood, red splattering the flag stones. There’s blood in his hair at the back of his head. He can’t seem to orient himself or speak, suggesting that his skull might be cracked so badly its costing him basic functionality. He tries, with difficulty, to lift his head. His eyes are flickering erratically, brightening and dimming, like a circuit is shorting in him.

Jester, again, does not wait. She disappears then reappears standing directly over him.

She doesn’t say a damn thing.

She just raises a hand and with a flare a soft orb of pink magic blooms around her, encasing herself and Caleb. Immediately the passive magicks moving around Caleb go dormant and disappear. Over her shoulder, the massive lollipop rests like a mace in her hand. Invisible winds disturb her hair and skirts. Her eyes burn green in the iris and she just… waits. Because Caleb is bleeding out at her feet, fast losing consciousness in the neutral bubble of her anti-magic field.

Still he manages, “Jes…ter…?”

“Where is Caduceus?” she says. But when she speaks, her voice quavers. Water drips from her chin. “Did you kill him, Caleb?”

“Nev… I’d never…”

He can’t finish the sentence.

Jester covers her mouth with one hand, eyes squeezing shut, and Caleb slumps unconscious on the floor. For a moment, there’s just silence. Blood freezing on the cold stone floor. Then Jester dismisses the spiritual weapon and drops to her knees. She fits her hands to Caleb’s bleeding head. She combs the bloody hair from the ugly split in his skull and magic begins to sink gingerly into the wound. She’s whispering something softly, like a refrain.

Eventually, Molly moves to kneel with her inside the dome.

“He’ll be okay,” she says, attempting cheerfulness as tears overrun her eyes. “He’ll be okay. I’m asking the Traveler to break some of the… the forbiddance spells around the keep. The others will be here soon. We’ll be okay.” She chokes a little on her own voice. “Everyone’s back together.” Her fingers close in the back of Caleb’s robes, the magic dissipating from her fingers, and that’s when Molly loops his arms around her. She grabs his shirt, clinging suddenly, something building in her chest until she blurts, crying, “What did we do wrong, Molly?”

“Nothing.”

He cradles her head, rocking a little as she starts to sob.

“We tried so hard!”

“I know.”

Jester is wailing now, just gut-wrenching heaves against Molly’s shoulder. “I miss her so much!” She can’t seem to breathe, giving in entirely to ugly crying, almost hiccupping. “I miss Beau! She said we needed to take care of each other and we didn’t.”

“Hey, the world asked a lot from you. S’not your fault if you didn’t do every damn thing on the list.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Shh, stop it. It’s over,” Molly murmurs, hugging her closer. “It’s over, Jes.”

Jester just keeps crying until it seems like she may never stop, but even as he begins to think this, there is a sudden rush of warm wind and the scent of… of somewhere else. Somewhere green and summer-y, sap-sticky, and hot against the skin and Molly feels someone step into the space to his left and kneel. There’s no one there of course, but Molly sees it when Jester’s hair moves a little, an invisible hand tucking strands behind her ear and only then does her wailing become a sniffle.

“I know, but I didn’t want it to be this way,” she says loudly to no one.

Molly feels that murmur of wind again, so comforting it wipes away the cold of the room.

“You promise?” Jester says, looking up at the empty air.

And there’s a chuckle, resonate and deep. Molly gets the impression of the ‘yes’ and a whisper like a cloak against his shoulder, passing by.

And Jester turns to Molly and says, “It’ll be okay. I’m okay.”

Molly gives the room a wary once over. “You sure?”

Jester starts to smile. “We can fix it. It’s… it’s going to be—”

“Finally,” says a voice.

The word splits through Molly’s skull like a nail through the roof of his mouth. He’s on the floor before he can process anything farther, his every limb locked up around a sucker punch that didn’t happen. Dizzy, he struggles to lift his forehead from the ground, but the voice goes on like a tuning fork jammed inside his brain.

“Hey, man. Don’t run, I have some questions for you.”

Molly manages to lift his head. His vision is splitting, going dark around the edges. It hurts to look.

But, there in the middle of the room, Beauregard is standing. The barrier spell around her is gone. She’s stepped half way down from her dais, one foot sill up on the platform, the other on the floor in the attitude of descending a short flight of stairs. Her body is on fire. A pillar of blue and black flame sheathes her skin, billowing the torn edges of her jacket.

She’s looking at something forward and slightly to her left.

Her left arm is extended and her fist closed around something Molly can’t see. Her arm jerks slightly, like something is fighting her hold but she’s smiling this kind of confused, mildly annoyed smile. Like someone is being a little rude at a dinner party or something and she steps down fully. Ice bursts across the floor where her feet touch the stone, the temperature in the room going sub-zero and Molly knows without knowing that if the anti-magic field drops, they’re going to get the brunt of it.

“Wow. Stop spazzing out. I just want to talk,” Beau is saying in that awkward friendly-but-I’m-kind-of-faking-it voice she does when she’s working at being a person to someone she’d rather punch. “Hey. Listen, buddy. This isn’t like before. I’m something else and I need to ask you some stuff.”

And suddenly there’s someone standing in front of her. They’re struggling to get away from Beauregard, who has one iron-fingered grip viced relentlessly around their wrist.

They’re the size of a regular person, tall, slender, arguably a male build. Their skin is strange and iridescent and glowing faintly with a dim greenish warmth that penetrates the cold around them. They are dressed in adventurer’s finery – good boots, a clean blue tunic… and a long, long forest-green cloak that’s pulled up over their head and shadows everything but the lower half of their face.

Jester, seeing this, screams in horror.

But Beauregard doesn’t seem to hear. Her focus is entirely on The Traveler. She uses her free hand to grab a fistful of their cloak and drag them closer.

“I’m trying to be nice here,” she says, exasperated when her captive shoves a hand against her chest. “I’m a new god too, you know. We should stick together.” The Traveler doesn’t say anything, just bares their teeth and light flares through their body, snapping through Beauregard like a blow that knocks her face to the left. “Fucking. Rude,” she says, glaring down at the other god in front of her. “Stop it.”

“I don’t have answers for you,” says the Traveler. His voice cuts through the disharmonics from the other god, dragging a swath of relief through the room allowing the mortals there to breathe again. “I didn’t kill a god to become one.” A smile pulls briefly at his mouth, wry, and fiercely proud. “I found a faith stronger than any in the world and she believed in me. I don’t know what you are, half god. You are not like me.”

Beau-Who-Is-Not-Beau thinks about that.

Her eyes, Molly notices now, are pitch black hollows full of nothing.

“You’re right. Duh. I need to talk to her.” She thinks about it some more, then looks suddenly toward the two tieflings huddled together against the wall. “Hey, Molly. You know Vax’ildan, right?”

“Oh no,” Jester whispers.

“I wanna talk to his boss,” Beau says. “Can you tell him that?”

Then she smiles at Molly… and of course it kills him instantly.

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning: Second Chapter Prologue

It was nighttime, and the waning moon was, for some reason, vividly bright. Mike McGuire was laying in the middle of the ring in their backyard, staring up through the branches. The leaves had yet to sprout, but the buds were set to start opening up anytime. Same could be said for the young plants newly set in the soil near the back porch- a small plot of land freshly tilled up, planted with varying marigolds, daffodils, impatiens, and centered in it all, a rosebush received for Valentine’s. It was nice and neat, every plant perfectly arranged. The same could not be said for the garage.

--------------

It had all began not even a few days ago. A few days ago after losing their beloved tag team championship belts at the biggest show of the year. They had spoken little. They showered, dressed, went to the hotel, slept, got on the plane the next morning. And somewhere over the ocean, John had turned to Mike, and in a rare initiation of conversation…

“Mike.”

John was looking out the window, like he did with every trip, and there was a quiet mesmerization about it. Mike startled a bit. He didn’t usually initiate conversation. Sometimes early on they wouldn’t speak for hours, and when Mike asked why he wasn’t talking to them he simply replied ‘you didn’t say anything.’ Him breaking his ‘speak when spoken to’ habit usually indicated he had something important on his mind, so they’d shifted and given him their full attention. “Yeah, bud?”

“I turned 42 two weeks ago.”

He didn’t sound overtly happy about it. John’s emotional inflection was a subtle, nuanced thing, but by now Mike had become very attuned to picking it out. Still, they offered him a wavery little smile, probably in an attempt to cheer the both of them up. “You shoulda told me that. Woulda made you a cake.”

John shrugged.

“Better stuff to celebrate.”

His hand touched the window briefly.

“Like us.”

He turned to Mike in his chair and spoke low.

“But what I mean is that … maybe I can continue to do this. Maybe my body holds up a little longer. But I’ve come to realization that I don’t want to.” They sat up bolt upright, their head tilting to the side. For a moment they resembled an Irish Setter who just heard a far-off dog whistle and was trying to process what in the world that sound was. “You wanna stop? Like… this minute?” It wasn’t accusatory- more like confirming that the sounds coming out of his mouth were forming words that they were understanding the meaning of.

“Yes.” “You sure?” “Yes.” They sat back in their seat, expression a little dazed, as if showing mild signs of shock. Then they closed their eyes, inhaled, exhaled. Managed a smile, wobbly for a different reason than their previous one, and reached over, giving his wrist a squeeze. “...okay.”

The declaration had caught Mike completely off guard. In a way, they thought, they should’ve seen it coming at some point- he’d made some remarks about the ugliness of the business, beginning to think past it. But they hadn’t thought it would happen so suddenly. It was like driving at 60 MPH and then suddenly slamming on the brakes, the sudden jettisoning into the seatbelt knocking out all your breath and leaving your insides hurting. They went home. He planted his garden, seeming serene and perfectly content. Mike gave Alundra a once-over- they’d had her painted in their absence, the vivid yellow and red flame paintjob traded for an emerald green with orange flame one. The new vanity plates installed- NSFW 1. Something stabbed inside them. The next day. Grocery shopping. Mike going over their particulars. So much had been provided for them that had to be taken into account now. Health insurance- the extended coverage wouldn’t last forever, and though they could easily afford it, plans for two people in their shape wasn’t going to come easily. Something pricked at their eyes. Mike kept staring at their phone. It would ring eventually, they just knew it, a gruff voice on the other end demanding what in the blue hell they thought they were doing, is this what I wasted my time on you for, pulling yourself out of obscurity and stumbling into the perfect partner just to vanish like a fart in the wind? They weren’t sure the old man would say that. But what would they think, when they heard? How would they explain ‘he wanted out and I couldn’t deny him that and I can’t keep going in good fucking conscience without him’? And so on till today. This evening. Just now. Mike found themselves in the garage. They looked around. A small box was on the table- a prototype of a new piece of merch. A snowglobe. Little figurines of them under a dome of glass filled with water. They held their title belts. Shake it, orange and green confetti glitter swirled around. Pieces of fanmail, notes on their Twitter, asked where they’d gone. Some wished them well. Some worried that they were hurt or worse. Some said they felt betrayed. Why couldn’t you have even said goodbye? We believed in you. Quitters. Mike’s grip tightened on the snowglobe, their teeth gritting together hard. ‘It got taken from me and I wasn’t ready, and it fuckin’ sucks. So bad.’ Their own words from a year past slam into their brain and with a roar, they throw the snowglobe down, sending a shatter of broken glass and glitter water splatting over the concrete floor. A t-shirt snatched from a box, the phoenix that’d been emblazoned on their viking flags torn in two with an obnoxious ripping sound, the rest of the box kicked over. Their head whipped around, glaring viciously at the cardboard face of David Scott. Screeching, all but consumed by their fury, they dashed forward, grabbing him by the top of his large, scowling head and tearing the cutout apart. They couldn’t believe their own anger. They felt robbed, cheated, resentful. And all those feelings made Mike feel even worse, because they didn’t want to direct them at John. They couldn’t have kept going if he hadn’t wanted to. They didn’t want to be one more person who knew his desires and chose to ignore them. Mike’s train of thought slowly cooled their anger. All that was left was a giant mess of broken glass, torn t-shirts, dented boxes, ripped up cardboard. Something sick heaved in their chest and they left the garage, numbly trekking through the backyard until they found themselves in the ring.

-------------- So there they were. Maybe they could salvage something. Maybe the fans they hadn’t completely alienated would still want them, for old time’s sake. If they got back into auto repair maybe they could even sell them there as a bonus. Nostalgia was always a hot ticket, and somebody in the future was bound to remember that one tag team that got super hot and then vanished without a trace out of nowhere. Raising an arm, they laid it over the bridge of their nose, shielding their closed eyes from the moonlight as they tried not to sob. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.

John stood in the doorway of garage backdoor. Behind him was the aftermath of the disturbance that woke him. He had noticed immediately that Mike was gone. He had sat up from the bed and waiting until the noises subside. Quietly, he went to the garage and looked upon what had happened. His emotions ticked up slightly to disappointment that the quiet last few days had been a simmering pot and it had just spilled over. Soft footsteps went across the yard to the source. He stood just outside the ring, keeping his distance for the moment. He cut through the ambience of the night.

“I know you’re angry at me.” There was a long pause. The soft, occasional chirp of an early cricket or two. “‘M not mad at you. I feel shitty that I’m mad at all. S’ fuckin… complicated.” They didn’t move, their speech muted. If their anger was a fire, right now they were the embers that some knowledgeable Eagle Scout had doused with water and stirred up with a stick. Only You Can Prevent Wildfires. “...i didn’t want to not give you this. I feel like I’ve let people down. Myself a little. And then I get mad at myself cuz the alternative is what? Making you run yourself down when you don't want to anymore just to feed my own fuckin’ dream that I should’a grown out of? It… I…” Sniff. “...it just happened so fuckin’ quick. Like slammin’ a book shut ‘fore you read the end.”

John circled around to the wooden steps leading up onto the apron. He put a foot on the first step.

“I thought it would just be the end of a chapter.” Slowly lowering their arm from their face, they scooted themself across the canvas a bit away from the center- not a recoil, but an invitation. Reaching up, they curled their hand around the bottom rope. They knew that. It made them feel even more foolish for exploding the way they had, the silvery light of the moon accentuating the blush standing out on their damp cheeks. “I’m bein’ a fuckin’ dumb baby, aren’t I…”

“No. Not happy that I advertently made a decision for you as well.”

“We’re a package deal. Can’t do it without you. Don’t want to. I know what you said’s right. Our story ain’t over. Just feel like I’ve been thrown violently into the next scene without any time to brace myself. But I’ll get over it. Get over myself, maybe.” Their right arm, the one not gripping onto the rope, reaches out to the side, fingers beckoning a bit. “‘M sorry I broke all that stuff… poor Milscott…”

“It was just that. Stuff.”

He stepped up onto the apron.

“I believed in what we said. All of that talk about hall of fames and being the greatest. It was fun. It lit a fire inside of me. But it made me feel like we were walking down the wrong path. Like we almost did before.”

“Mouthy little shit talks a big game.” There was a dry chuckle at that. All that talk of being the first tag team in the EWC Hall of Fame would likely amount to just that. Talk. It was one of the things that’d jagged at them these past few days, that their ultimate legacy was apparently a foul-mouthed hothead who made big grandiose boasts only to bail without warning. Exhaling, they turned their head toward him, hand still reaching in his direction. “How so? We weren’t bein’ dicks again, were we?”

“No.”

He walked along the the edge of the apron, stopping just before them.

“Don’t think it was that simple. Our words, though? They started to mirror something we swear we’d never be. Started to have some folks nod along that weren’t before.”

It took Mike a moment to puzzle that one out, their mouth pursing, flicking two and fro, nose crinkling a bit. After a few seconds, though, their red-rimmed eyes popped, left hand releasing the rope and going to their mouth with a gasp. “Noooooo. You can’t fuckin’ mean… no. No motherfuckin’ way we were sounding like him. … Were we really?”

“Maybe not exactly. But it made me think. Readjusted a few priorities.”

He had finally stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He stood over them.

“I would have gone as long as we had those belts. And sure, there were amazing possibilities on the horizon. I love the sport. But I had been wrong in the assumption that it was the only thing I was meant to do. You made me see that.” Mike looked up at him. From this angle he looked impossibly huge, and it made them feel smaller in comparison. Physically anyway. John never made you feel small as a person, and if he did, you probably deserved it. “...maybe I’ve had it backwards this whole time then. I kept seeing things as… I don’t fuckin’ know… a block building. You take out any one part of it- me, you, our home, the business- and everything falls to pieces. I mean I figured we’d stop someday, maybe in a year or two, kinda ease out of it, tell everybody where we were going an’ why. But in all those big fuckin’ pipe dreams I didn’t think about what you thought. I just assumed you wanted the same thing I did when it came to the business an’ that was fuckin’ selfish of me. I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down beside Mike, before finally sitting back, crossing his legs.

“I wanted all of that. But there’s more to us, I believe. I’d be naive to think there isn’t conflict elsewhere in the world but it is less likely than what we were doing. I had remembered what I loved about the business before it was taken all away. But more importantly, I now have something I never had.”

“...VIP customer status at Barnes and Noble?” The cheeky grin that flicked onto Mike’s face wasn’t the wavering, willing-yourself-to-smile expression she’d given him the last couple days. Like a breath of fresh air, it was real. Slowly, they pulled themself up to a sitting position, folding their legs likewise, facing him, reaching for his hands. Without hesitation, John placed his hands into theirs. He smiled in response to Mike’s joke. Sighing softly, Mike ran their thumbs over his knuckles tenderly. Even if they had been mad at him, it wouldn’t have lasted. They could be mad at a lot and hold grudges for ages, but never at him. Something about John was impossible to be angry with- least that’s how Mike saw it. “So… now what?”

John shrugged in response. But in that same moment, he felt an answer come through.

“We stop hiding who we are.”

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Stepping Up: Part 5

Pairings: Chibs x Reader, Past Jax x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 4,197

Stepping Up Masterlist   Aesthetic by @ravenangel33​

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And with that, we are officially moved in.” You said as you tossed the last empty box out the side door toward the trash cans. With a loud sigh you closed the door that lead to the kitchen in your new house. It had only taken you a week to find and a day after you got your full cast taken off and a half cast put on, you moved in. You now lived exactly 3 minutes away from the club, 5 minutes from Jax, and 6 minutes from Opie and Gemma. You were smack dab in the middle of SAMCRO whether you liked it or not.

“I vote for a beer an’ a dip in the pool… well, a beer for me an’ juice for ye.” Chibs said as he put the last stack of dishes in the cabinet. You rolled your eyes as you rubbed your hand over your barely there 11 week along baby bump.

“I hate you.” You grumbled as you gave him a kiss on the cheek as you walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll go see if Kelsi has organized her dollies enough.” You heard someone ring your doorbell and you changed direction as you looked over your shoulder at your fiancé. “You can go check on Kelsi. I’ll get the door for our first actual visitor.” He chuckled and called out Kelsi’s name as you headed toward the door. You smiled as you opened it for Gemma but that smile didn’t last long with the look on her face.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice. Panic started to constrict your lungs as you shook your head.

“What happened?” She gave you a weak smile before stepping to the side to reveal a young girl. You took one look at her and knew exactly who she was.

“Kerrianne.” You whispered softly as you looked at your fiancé’s brown eyes and the shape of his face. You blanched for a second before checking yourself. “Sorry, come in.” Gemma shook her head as she gently pressed Kerrianne forward.

“I can’t stay. I have a doctors appointment I can’t miss.” You nodded as you let your future step daughter into the entry way. “Call you later.” You nodded at Gem as she took off and ran to her car. You shook your head slightly and closed the door as Kerrianne looked at the family photos you had on the wall.

“Hey babe! You wanna come out here?” You called out as you gestured toward your living room. You could hear your daughters peels of laughter as Chibs carted her out into the living room on his shoulder.

“Peanut thinks the pool is a… Kerrianne?” He stopped halfway into the living room as his eyes landed on his daughter. You quickly walked over and took Kelsi from him. “What’re ye doin’ ‘ere, love?” You watched as tears welled in the young girl’s eyes and she shook her head.

“The Kings… they killed mum and tried ta go afta me. I didn’t know where else ta go.” Chibs walked briskly across the room and wrapped his daughter in his arms.

“Mumma, who is that?” You looked at Kelsi and gave her a weak smile.

“That’s da’s daughter. Come on, baby girl. Let’s go get your bathing suit on so they can talk.” You looked over at Chibs once more and headed back toward the rooms as Kelsi began a rapid fire of 20 questions.

“Is she gunna be my new friend? Do I have ta share my toys with her? Is she nice?” You chuckled as you set your daughter on the floor of her room.

“Hey, blabber mouth. Get your bathing suit on so we can go swimming.” She jumped up and down before grabbing a bathing suit out of a drawer under her new princess castle bed.

“Do I gots to share da with her?” You kneeled down on the floor and took a deep breath as she handed you her bathing suit.

“Yea, you will just like with the new baby. But that doesn’t mean that da will love you any less.” She nodded as she quickly got undressed.

“Do I gots to share daddy, too?” You giggled and shook your head.

“No, baby. Daddy is all yours for right now.” She nodded again as she put her hand on your shoulder for balance. You could tell just by the look on her face that she was deep in thought.

“Can she come swim with me?” You smiled and shrugged your shoulders as you pulled up her Little Mermaid one piece.

“We’ll ask her another time, Kels. Her and da have a lot of catching up to do.” Kelsi nodded as she adjusted the straps on her bathing suit while you stood up.

“Is she my sister like the baby in your belly?” You nodded as your too smart for her own good two year old followed you down the short hall to your room.

“She is your step sister. Just like da is your step dad.” Kelsi nodded as she climbed up onto your bed using the little step ladder at the foot you had bought her.

“She’s not like the evil step sisters though, right mumma?” You laughed and shook your head as you pulled on your bikini bottoms.

“No, silly. Evil step sisters are just in the movies.” You giggled to yourself as you grabbed a bikini top from the drawer. You brow furrowed as you realized you only owned ones that tied and that wasn’t happening with your cast on. With a small groan, you put one on and looked at Kelsi as you held the strings tight behind your back. “Come on, pumpkin head.” She scrunched up her face at you and huffed before climbing down the side of the bed. You told her to wait by the back door before walking into the living room hesitantly.

“Chibs? Sorry…” He turned around to look at you before getting up and coming to help you.

“She’s movin’ in.” He said softly as he took the strings from you. You nodded as he tied them for you.

“Guess it’s a good thing we went with the four bedroom.” He kissed your shoulder in thanks as he pat your back. “If she wants to go swimming, I have a bathing suit in the second drawer with the tags still on it.” Chibs nodded as you kissed his cheek.

“Thanks love.” You gave him a small smile and nodded before heading back to the back door.

“Is she coming swimmin’?” Kelsi called out loud enough where Chibs and Kerrianne could hear. You heard your fiancé chuckle and you scowled at your daughter, knowing she did that on purpose.

“Outside, silly.” You said as you unlocked the back door and gestured her out back. She ran over to the edge of the pool and turned back to look at you while she waited for the OK to go in like she was taught. “Go on.” She squealed and jumped into the shallow end, coming up for air with a laugh. She loved swimming in Gemma and Clay’s pool and it took a minute to find a house in Charming that had a pool in it. You got really lucky with this one.

After a half an hour, the backdoor opened. You looked up and smiled as Kerrianne walked out in your new bathing suit with Chibs right behind her. Kelsi, who apparently suddenly lost her shy streak, swam over to the stairs, got out, and ran up to her sister.

“Come on, it’s OK. You’re my sister now.” She grabbed Kerrianne’s hand and nearly dragged her back to the pool. You smiled at your daughter as she confidently walked down the stairs with her older sister behind her.

“How is she?” You asked Chibs as he sat down on the side of the pool by you and lowered himself into the water.

“Petrified that they’ll find ‘er. Sad at the loss’a ‘er mum. Unsure ‘bout bein’ ‘ere wit’ us.” You nodded as Kelsi began to get to know Kerrianne by asking a million questions.

“Understandable. How are you?” You glanced over at him as you laced your fingers with his under the crystal clear water. He shrugged as he watched his daughters.

“Scared. I know nothin’ ‘bout ‘er.” You nodded as you reached over and turned his face toward you with your finger.

“We’ll get there as a family. You’re not in this alone.” He nodded as you gave him a chaste kiss. “I’m sorry about Fi.” You met his slightly tear filled eyes and gave him a weak smile.

“Thanks, love.” You gave him one more peck before resting your casted arm back on the wall to watch the two young girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kerrianne! You’re gunna be late!” You called out as you tried to move quickly around your kitchen despite your giant baby bump. You served your step daughters breakfast and handed her the plate as she slid into the kitchen in her socks.

“Thanks, (Y/N).” You smiled at her as she carried her plate back to her room to finish getting ready for school. She had lived with you for the past 6 months and she was an absolute angel. She opened up to you and her dad and was such a big help with Kelsi. You had been surprised at first at how well she was adjusting. You were just about to make your and Kelsi’s plate but growled as your doorbell rang.

“Kelsi, let’s go!” You padded over to the door as Kelsi shouted something back to you. With a forced smile, you pulled the front door open.

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” A FedEx employee asked as he looked at the envelope he was holding.

“Yea…” He looked up at you and trust the envelope at you.

“You’ve been served.” Your stomach dropped as you took the envelope from him. You numbly headed back into your kitchen as you ripped the envelope open. You tossed it on the table as you tried to figure out what you were being summoned for.

The world around you seemed to stop as you read the words ‘petition for custody’ across the top of the paper. You sank down into the chair as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. It took a minute for you to react but once you saw the reasoning behind the petition, you were livid. You stormed over and grabbed your phone. You pressed the buttons so hard you though you were going to break your phone as you called Jax to find out what was going on. After one ring, his phone went to voice mail. So you called someone you knew would answer your call.

“‘ell…”

“Jax filed for custody. Put him on the fucking phone.” You heard your fiancé audibly blanch for a moment.

“‘e WHAT?!” Chibs shouted as you heard the sound of a door bang open. “JACKSON!”

“Filip, I’m gunna fucking kill him.” You said as you scanned through the rest of the papers.

“Not if I kill’m first.” He said as he kicked the clubhouse door open. “Ye fuckin’ think yer filing for custody?!” Chibs shouted.

“PUT HIM ON THE FUCKING PHONE!” You screamed as you looked at the second name on the petition. You heard shouting from the other end and you growled. “Kerrianne! You’re coming to work with me for the morning. Kelsi it’s time to go!” You hung up the phone, knowing you weren’t getting any where with that as Kerrianne and Kelsi came into the kitchen looking slightly confused.

“Why’m I goin’ ta…”

“Not right now, sweetie. We have to go.” She nodded, hearing the anger in your tone.

“C’mon, Kelsi. Le’s go.” You smiled gratefully at your step daughter as you grabbed your purse and turned off the stove. You grabbed the stack of papers and your keys and followed your girls outside. You silently raged the whole way to the club; beyond pissed at the fact that Jax would agree to Tara’s plot to try to take your child from her da. As you pulled into TM, you parked quickly and snatched the papers up.

“Take Kels inside, go to da’s room and stay there for me, please.” You said as you handed Kerrianne your car keys and got out of the car. You could hear the men shouting as you stormed over to the back of the club house. The first thing you saw was Jax’s back. You thought you were angry before but seeing him made it a thousand times worse. You stormed up and sucker punched him from behind.

“What, do you think Tara is gunna raise my fucking daughter?!” You shouted as you chucked the papers at him.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t read it! She told me it was to add me to her insurance.” You shook your head and ignored the pain that was creeping across your stomach.

“How do you not fucking read something like that? Jesus, Jackson… We can’t just stop this. She claimed Filip is a danger to Kelsi…”

“Mother’a Christ.” Chibs groaned as he picked up the papers. You shook your head as tears finally filled your eyes.

“Thank you, so fucking much for ripping my family apart. Tell that fucking…”

“Jax?” The sound of Tara’s voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You spun in your spot and your rage finally exploded. You didn’t think about the fact that you were 9 months pregnant as you pulled back and slammed your fist into her jaw. She stumbled and fell to the pavement.

“You fucking bitch!” You screamed as you scrambled to hit her again. You got two more good hits in before you were pulled back away from her. “I fucking hate you! You’re fucking dead!” You screamed as Happy and Chibs pulled you back and lead you to your car. You screamed at them to let you go.

“Love, yer water broke. Yer goin’ ta the ‘ospital.” You shook your head and growled.

“She’s not dead yet.” Happy chuckled as he pulled open the passenger door.

“Ye can kill ‘er later, m’love.”

“Yea, you can bet your fucking ass on that one. Go get our girls, they’re in your room.” Chibs nodded as he buckled your seatbelt. You could hear Jax screaming at Tara as Happy stood next to you, forcing you to stay in the car while Chibs went and got Kerrianne and Kelsi.

Tears filled your eyes at the severity of the situation and you screamed and punched your dashboard. You knew it was only going to be a matter of time before someone came into your life and told the father of your children that he wasn’t allowed to be near your daughter.

“Get in the fucking car.” Jax snapped as he nearly shoved Tara toward her car.

“Jax…” You glared at the woman as Jax yanked the door open to the car next to you.

“Don’t. I told you to leave this alone. You are not her mother, she is.” He pointed at you as Happy put his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your chair. “I don’t want custody of Kelsi. I can't be the full time father she needs. That’s why I was gunna sign over my rights…”

“Jax…”

“Fuck you!” You snapped as Chibs lead your daughters out of the club. “You better watch your back, bitch. You fucked with the wrong family.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” You held up your middle finger as Jax shoved her into her car and slammed the door. He took a step back to show where his loyalties lie as Chibs got Kelsi in the car and Kerrianne got in behind you.

“I’ll fix this, (Y/N).” Jax said as Tara pulled out of the parking lot. Happy stepped to the side to let Jax take his place as Chibs got in the car. “I’m calling the club’s lawyer now to withdraw the petition and to see what I can do about her claim.”

“You need to call Gemma and tell her what’s going on. And let that bitch know if that she isn’t out of fucking Charming by the time I deliver this baby, she’ll wish she was never born.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kellan Michael Telford wasn’t two hours old before Wayne Unser, Charming’s chief deputy sheriff came into your hospital room with David Hale and a woman from Child Protective Services, Pat Miller. Once she introduced herself, you took one look at the woman and shook your head before she could go on whatever tangent she had prepared.

“No one in this room is going to speak to you until Jackson Teller and our lawyer are present. I do not give you permission to speak to Kelsi until her father is present.”

“(Y/N)… we have to ask Filip…” Unser tried to say but again, you shook your head.

“Wayne, you know as well as I do Filip would never hurt his kids. He’s not leaving this room.”

“Ma’am…” Mrs. Miller said but you held up your hand.

“We’re in a bloody ‘ospital. If I really were a danger ta either’a m’girls or m’son, t’is the las’ place I’m ‘arm ‘em.”

“You can all come back when Jax and my lawyer are here. Until then, bye.” The CPS agent tried to say something else and you glared at her. “No! Lawyer! Bye!”

“Hale, just… stay here.” Wayne said as he pointed to a chair in the far corner. Both officers knew this was absolute bullshit. You rolled your eyes as David took a seat and Wayne lead Mrs. Miller out of the room. Kelsi, who had been sitting on the couch next to Kerrianne looked at Chibs.

“Da…” Chibs looked at you, fighting his heart out to keep his heart break off his face before turning to look at his middle child. “Why does that lady think you would hurt my brudder?” Tears welled in your eyes as your fiancé sat down on the couch. He picked Kelsi up and put her in his lap as he shook his head.

“I d’know, love.” You looked at Kerrianne, who was holding her baby brother, at the same time she looked at you. Her eyes read a look of sheer panic and you knew she understood exactly what was going on.

“Are they gun’ send m’back?” You shook your head as the dam finally let loose.

“No, baby. You’ll stay with me one way or another. Your da and I will never let you go back.” She nodded as Chibs put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side. He said something to her in Gaelic and she nodded as he kissed her temple.

“I’m really sorry about this, you guys.” David said as you brushed your tears away.

“Yea, imagine ‘ow we feel.”

——

Kelsi sat on the hospital bed between your legs, looking at Mrs. Miller while you nursed Kellan. Jax and the club’s lawyer, Ally Lowen, both sat on the couch behind you and Kelsi. Pat pulled up the chair that Hale had vacated and sat down with a smile.

“Hi Kelsi.” Your daughter leaned over and gently laid down on your stomach to hide. “I have to ask you some questions about your dad…”

“You have to be specific. I’m her daddy and Chibs… Filip is her da. She knows the difference and she will answer according to the name.” Jax said as he stood up and moved over to the bed, sitting down by your ankles so he wouldn’t ‘influence’ Kelsi’s answers. Pat nodded as she made a note in her file.

“Kelsi, do you spend a lot of time with your da?” Pat asked as she looked over at Jax to make sure she was correct. Kelsi nodded against your stomach.

“He makes pancakes in the mornin’s.” She nodded as she wrote something down.

“Does he yell at you?” Kelsi shook her head and you winced a bit; your sore muscles protesting a bit after 9 hours of labor.

“One time I broke a flower cup. I gots time out.” You couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. Kelsi was throwing a temper tantrum; part of her terrible twos and she knocked over a vase when she threw her Barbie at your fiancé.

“Did your mommy or da hit you?” Kelsi shook her head again and you grit your teeth.

“Jax, get her off my stomach.” You said as you placed your hand on your stomach. Jax reached over and picked Kelsi up to put her on his lap. Pat waited for a moment before asking her question again.

“Mamaw gave me spankin’ once when I let the bird fly…” You smirked again as you peeked under the blanket across your chest at your son.

“Look, lady. My daughter isn’t in danger with (Y/N). I’ve know her for 18 years and I’ve know Chibs just as long. I trust (Y/N)’s judgement. This custody case is a bullshit stunt my soon-to-be ex is trying to pull because I’m not ready to have another kid and she wants to be a mom. That’s all this is. I withdrew the claim yesterday. I can promise you that the only danger my daughter could be in is having to eat corned beef and cabbage on a day that’s not St. Patricks Day.”

“Daddy, that’s yucky.” Kelsi said as she looked up at Jax. You and Ally both giggled as Pat wrote something else down in her file.

“Now, Kerrianne Larkin is…”

“She’s Filip’s daughter; my step daughter. I’m the sponsor of her student visa for the time being while we work on getting her citizenship worked out.” Pat nodded as she continued to write.

“And Mr. Telford is also the father of your son.” You nodded. She looked up at you with her brow slightly furrowed. “How long have you known Mr. Telford.”

“Since I was 11.”

“And you’ve been together…?”

“Four years.” Pat looked back and forth between you and Jax. You could tell she was about to ask about the logistics behind your relationship with Jax but Ally stood up and stepped up to the bed.

“Do you have any other questions about the safety of Kelsi Teller?” Pat looked up at her, gave a small shake of her head to check her place before continuing.

“Kelsi, has your da ever hurt you or told you he was going to hurt you?” You looked at your daughter as her brow furrowed.

“Why would da hurt me?” You watched panic rip through her face as she looked up at Jax. “Daddy…”

“Great…” You grumbled as your daughter burst into tears. Your son stopped eating and you snapped your shirt back into place as Jax pulled Kelsi against his chest.

“Are you done tormenting my daughter?” Jax snapped as he put his hand on the back of Kelsi’s head protectively. “I told you, he’s not a threat to my daughter. If he was, I would have done something about it three years ago.” Pat nodded as she wrote something down in her file.

“I apologize. The state requires me to ask certain questions…”

“Have you asked those questions?” Ally asked as you laid your newborn on your chest to burp him. “Because if you have, we are done here. My clients would like to get back to welcoming their newest family member into their lives.” Pat nodded as she finished writing and almost scrambled to get her bag.

“I apologize for this. As far as I can see, this case can be closed. I…”

“I’d like a copy of your report sent to my office.” Ally interrupted as Jax got off the bed and walked over to the couch with Kelsi.

“Yes, of course.” Pat quickly wrote a case number on her business card and left it on the table. She tried to apologize again as she headed out the door, but the deadpan looks the three adults in the room gave her made her simply leave the room with Ally right behind her.

“Can you go…” You started to ask Jax but Chibs power walked back in the room. “Never mind.”

“Stupid bitch asked Kelsi if you would ever hurt her.” Jax said as Chibs walked over.

“Jesus Christ.” He grumbled as Kelsi reached for her da. “’s’all right, m’love.”

“Daaaa….” You sighed as Kerrianne walked over and sat down on your bed. You reached out and took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

“You’re safe.” With a relieved smile, she nodded and whispered ‘thanks’.

“Well, I have a bitch to filet. I’ll see you guys later.” You smirked at Jax as he gave Kelsi a kiss on the cheek. He brushed his hand over Kellan’s head and smiled at you. “He’s gunna be a real lady killer.” You nodded as he kissed your cheek.

“You make sure that bitch gets the hell out of Charming. She has 24 hours.”

Part 6

[nialledfromfics]

- Chapter Nine -

“There are a million reasons why this shouldn’t work…but there is only one reason why it should…”

27 Weeks

I spent the next two weeks wrapped in Niall’s arms. Wrapped in his bed, wrapped in his warmth. Wrapped in this idealistic secluded little world that only contained him and I and our little unborn baby that was nestled snuggly in my belly. It was effortless, fun and sweet and it was more than I had ever thought it could be. Niall was perfect, almost overly so, but he made me smile and laugh more than I had in ages. He made me feel good, he made me want to feel good. I had the jitters in my fingertips and the nervous little knots in my tummy and every time he looked at me, I could have sworn that time stood still. I was clearly smitten and it was even more clear that he felt the same.

I wasn’t entirely sure what had caused me to wake up when I did, but I blamed it on the insane cravings I had been having lately for a particular food item that Niall, by that time, had grown to nearly detest. But it was in the middle of the night, my bedroom almost pitch black to the naked eye, when I restlessly flopped over to my side and reached out for him. “Niall…” I dozily grumbled, his name half slurred off my uncooperative tongue. He didn’t budge from my faint attempt to wake him and I slowly nudged my palm at the meaty part of his bare upper arm.

“Ni...Ni, wake up!”

I felt him jump out of his deep slumber, his body practically shooting straight up in the bed. “W-what?” he yelped out into the dark expanse of my room, his hand clumsily flying up to rub across his eyes as he felt the drag of my fingers slip from his warmed skin. “Are...are you okay?”

He hadn’t even looked over at me yet, most likely from the fact that he was still half asleep and could barely see anything in the pitch black but I pulled in a low settling breath which caused his face to finally turn down and focus on me. His sleepy eyes met mine and I nodded my head as it sunk down into my pillow. “Yeah, I’m just...hungry,” I confessed, my tone timid as I curled up into a tighter ball on my side.

“Wha-...hungry?” he blubbered as he slid his body back down into the warmness of my cozy bed, lifting both his hands to messily run through his hair. “Then go get somethin’ to eat…”

“No,” I stated, my eyes flitting down the prominent lines of his profile as he rested a hand at his bare chest and softly closed his eyes. “I want-...I want a burrito..”

His head quickly twisted to peer over at me, and I could see the deep wrinkles of his furrowed brow across his forehead. “A burri-....Laine, are ya fuckin’ serious?” he shrilled out, his voice going unusually high as he tried to keep a muted whisper, “What...what time is it?”

My teeth feebly sunk into my bottom lip and I lightly shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Letting out a huff, Niall rolled to his side to grab his phone off the nightstand, his head popping up off the pillow just enough to read the tipped screen. “It’s half past three in the mornin’, babe,” he mumbled, tossing his phone back down and settling under the covers once more, “go back to sleep.”

“I can’t,” I whined as I turned over onto my back and pushed my hands across my face with a vexed sigh. “I need-...can you please go get me a burrito?”

“....where the fuck do ya expect me to get a burrito at three in the morn...”

“I don’t know, the food truck?”

Niall gave me a snort and shook his head. “The food truck isn’t open at this hour, Laine.”

“I don’t know!” I shot back, turning my head to look over at him as my hands restlessly slapped down to my sides over top of the duvet. “I really want a burrito though, Ni...please? The baby’s hungry.”

“Usin’ the baby as an excuse now, huh?” he grumbled in a half joking manner.

Peering over at me from the corners of his eyes, I darted my stare with his, a shy smile creeping over my lips as I slowly reached out and ran the knuckles of my fingers across his stubbled jaw. “Please…”

I felt his body slowly relent to my touch; his breaths subduing as his dark eyelashes fluttered at the tops of his cheeks. Licking over his lips, he let out a defeated groan and hastily yanked the covers off his body. “Ugh...fuckin’ Christ,” he mumbled as he pushed himself out of my bed. My bottom lip tucked into my mouth as I fought off my impending smile, watching intently as he snatched his joggers off my floor and tugged them up his skinny legs.

“Fine...I’ll go to Taco Bell or somethin’...” he muttered, pulling on his t-shirt.

Curling my fists up under my chin, I let out a tiny squeal. “Ahh, Ni!” I told him, my one hand sliding down to sit under the bulge of my belly as he turned around and glanced down at me. “You’re the best, thank you, baby…”

He shook his head in a chuckle, his fingers lazily combing through his short hair. “You fuckin’ owe me big for this.”

With my eyes going wide, my bottom lip pushed out as I gave him a playful pout. He let out a laugh, a deep one that rumbled from his chest, at the sight of me and leaned over on the flats of his palms to place a soft kiss to my mouth. “You’re cute,” he smirked in a hushed tone as he pulled back, his half lidded eyes swarming over my face for a moment before he stood back up and used his hands to situate his t-shirt. “But ya still owe me. I’ll be back.”

I waited for as long as I could, my eyelids getting heavier with each passing second and before I knew it, I had fallen back asleep. I couldn’t even say how long he had been gone, I wasn’t really paying attention to the time other than having daydreams about my yummy burrito and trying my damndest to keep my eyes open.

Barely hearing the groggy whisper of his voice, I felt the slight drag of his hand over my shoulder as I laid on my side. “Laine...wake up…”

I pushed out a dismayed groan, my eyes squeezing tighter before I rolled my head to peek over my shoulder. The room was dimly lit; just the glow from the kitchen leaking into the dark space but I could see Niall standing over me next to the bed, a plate gripped in his hand. “Huh?” I mumbled, still half stuck in a dream.

“Taco Bell was closed,” he began in a quiet tone, licking across his lips as he glanced down at the plate in his hand, “so I went by Tesco’s and got stuff to make you a burrito. Here.” He pushed the plate towards me a bit and I knitted my brows as I peeked at the food.

Turning over completely to lay on my back, my lips parted briefly as I shot my drowsy eyes across his face. “You made this?”

“Yeah.”

“For me?”

He tipped his head a bit, letting out a low scoff at my question. “Yeah…of course.”

I darted my eyes over his, watching the black slowly infiltrate into the ice blue and I swallowed hard as I felt a irrepressible warmness start to bubble up through me. My bare chest rose high under the shroud of the duvet, the tip of my tongue jutting out to run over my pillowy lips and I noticed his brows slowly began to crinkle as he stared down at me. “I don’t want it,” I informed him, giving him a small shake of my head.

Niall pulled the plate back towards him as he straightened up, his broad shoulders flinging back in his black t-shirt as he perched a hand on his hip. “What?”

“I don’t want it,” I repeated.

He stayed silent for a moment, just peering down at me and doing his very best to try to figure out what the hell was going on in my head before he pushed out a huff. “I just spent the last forty five minutes in the middle of the night makin’ this for you, Jesus Christ...what the fuck you mean you ‘don’t want it’?”

I tucked my bottom lip into my mouth, pulling in a deep breath as I rolled my hips down into the mattress. “I want..you.”

His hand holding the plate slowly started to sag, his half lidded eyes pulsing over my face, dripping with the heated lust that I knew was starting to fill him. Reaching my hand out from under the covers, I carefully brought it over to him, my stare never once unlocking from the hold of his as I lightly began to rub my palm along the front of his sweatpants. I heard a jumbled breath pulling into his lungs as my touch landed on him, my fingers caressing over the top of his soft pants and feeling him start to swell for me. “Please,” I faintly whispered, tipping my head to the side as I rubbed across him a bit harder, his length throbbing against my hand and growing harder for me with each second. “I just...want you…”

Hearing him clear his throat, I watched as he carefully set the plate down on the nightstand and started to lean towards me. Acting fast, I quickly reached up and curled my fist into the front of his t-shirt, yanking him with such force he had to catch himself from toppling on top of my upper body. He gave me a low chuckle as he held himself up by the press of his palms into the mattress at my sides and I breathed out a coy smile, slowly pulling him down even closer to me, so much so that our noses were nearly touching. My eyes quickly drowned in his, flicking back and forth as I felt his warm breath pelt out against my parted mouth. “I want you to fuck me hard and fuck me good, you got that?”

His brow inched up with the corner of his lips, not even uttering a word in response before he pushed his greedy mouth to mine. My eyes fluttered closed with the swirling heat of his tongue, eagerly sweeping past my lips and tasting the reckless need I was exuding for him. My hand untangled from the soft material of his shirt and slowly slid up the span of his neck, locking around the back of it to hold him deeper, tiny whimpers edging up from my throat as he tilted his head and pushed his mouth harder against mine. His fervent tongue ran over mine, my teeth nipping at his little lips with each break in the frantic kiss, and I couldn’t help but squeeze my thighs together in vivid reaction. The feeling was overwhelming; my skin vibrating and raised with goosebumps with the blistering wetness beginning to trickle from my shaking core. Even with one little kiss, one little touch of his skin to mine, he had me falling apart like nothing I had ever felt before.

My head lifted a bit from the pillow, enticing him more into the rapacious kiss before he slowly slipped his heated mouth from mine. My eyes stayed pressed closed, my breaths ragged and rushed and melding with his as he held his face flush to mine. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me,” he muttered under his breath, “you’ve been a very bad girl, ya know that?”

His lewd words made a sharp gasp zip past my lips and my eyes fly open. Had I not already wanted this man inside me more than anything, that surely would have done it. My stare slid down the slope of his nose to dance across his pink mouth before I looked back up at him, a timid smile tugging at my lips as I was more than willing to play this little game with him. “Have I?”

“Yes,” he whispered, raising his brows and tipping his face down just enough, “you...wanna be my bad girl?”

Biting at my bottom lip, I shakily nodded my head, my fingers digging into the heated skin at the back of his neck. “Alright then, love,” he began, his tone becoming harsher as his big hand came up to grab around my jaw, “tell me what happens to bad girls?”

I swallowed hard under the pressure of the side of his palm, my parted lips stinging with each heavy breath that passed over them. I could see the intense dark of his eyes burrowing into mine, waiting for my answer, waiting for me to give him the permission that he so very much wanted to hear. And that I so very much wanted to give.

“Bad girls get punished,” I squeaked out.

Niall pushed out a huff, a smile curling on his lips. “Is that what ya want?” he asked me, his eyes dropping from the tangle of mine to watch his thumb slowly trace across my dry bottom lip. “My bad little girl wanna be punished?”

My back arched up off the bed, the warmth prickling up from my center and spreading fastly through my body with each tingling touch and roughly whispered word. Fluttering my eyes, I turned my head slightly to meet the tip of his trailing thumb with the pucker of my lips and slowly sucked it into my hot mouth. My wet tongue twirled over the roughened skin and I peeked back up at him as I faintly nodded my head, his thumb slipping past my spit-coated lips. “Yes, please…”

He sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, his wettened thumb dragging down over my chin as his hand slipped to cup around the side of my neck. Pushing his mouth to mine, he kissed me even harder than before, my nails scratching at his dewy skin and ruching up into the dark hair at the back of his head. Grabbing at the duvet with my other hand, I threw it off the front of my body, completely naked except for the light pink cotton underwear I had put on the night before. He chuckled against the sweep of my tongue as I clasped both hands around the back of his head, keeping him pressed to me.

Hums left my mouth, itching at my throat as he swallowed them down and dragged his large hand over the bumps of my collarbones. His fingertips lazily drifted over my delicate skin and I kissed him more fiercely as I felt the cup of his warm palm encase my naked breast. His skin was calloused and rough, but his touch was soft and he gently kneaded my breast as his finger and thumb teased at my nipple. They had become overly sensitive at that point in my pregnancy, even more swollen and engorged than before and a few broken whimpers filled his waiting mouth as he played.

Flicking across my pert nipples, his hand slid between my two breasts to show them equal attention as his mouth skimmed off of mine, cascading down the slope of my raised chin to eagerly suck across my bared throat. My lips rolled into my mouth, my eyes pinching shut as I bent my knees up and slapped my trembling thighs together. I felt the heat of Niall’s giggle against my sticky skin and the wide expanse of his hand as it began to trail down the side of my tummy, carving its way over my developed curves and around the underside of my swollen bump.

My fists curled into the longer pieces of his dark hair at the top of his head, his wicked mouth going rampant on my tender skin and I shivered from the chill of the overhead fan blowing across my exposed skin. The scorching heat that was blazing through me mixed with the unexpected cold of the air around us  threw my body into a tizzy; loud moans escaping my mouth as my skin prickled and shook under his curious touch.

He swept his hand just across my pubic bone, still covered by the thin cotton material of my underwear and harshly nipped at the skin of my neck before popping his head up. I opened my eyes, idly catching his stare. “Gonna make ya be good…”

Letting my eyes roll back, a blissful smile spread over my lips as I nodded my head. “Yes...make me be a good girl, Ni...please…”

The tips of his fingers teased across the frail top hem of my panties before he hastily shoved them down into the front. I gasped in a shaken breath; my legs instinctively spreading as his rapacious touch slid down my dripping folds. Grabbing around the side of my neck with his other hand, he pushed his forehead to mine, our eyes locking heavily through the swirling intense heat that was quickly building up.

I couldn’t breath, my chest holding tight in raised stillness as I felt the press of his two fingers dip across my opening. My nails scratched into his scalp, causing red marks to blister up as he kept my face tight to his with his firm grasp, his dark eyes flicking with mine. “You gonna be good?” he asked me, his voice gravelly and hoarse in his throat. My mouth hung open, silent stricken through the stifling warmth and I barely attempted to nod my head just as his two thick fingers slid inside me. “Tell me…”

My eyes fluttered closed from the fullness, my body already tensing and jolting as he began to move them inside me. “I-...I’m...g-gonna be...good,” I managed to stutter out past my heaving breaths. I felt his lips curl up into a smirk against mine, his fingers pumping faster along my swollen inner walls.

His thumb traced along the line of my jaw, pushing deeper into the flesh as he got under my chin. “Tell me again,” he started, his words coming out as a growl against my slackened mouth, “tell me you’re gonna be a good girl for me…”

I could feel his fingers hooking up inside me as he worked me, my back arching and my hips rolling into the unforgivable sensation. My eyes pinched closed, my chest rising in rapid succession as I gasped for air. My body was already wanting to give into him, his skilled fingers fucking into me, pulling everything from me that they knew and I was in no position to fight. I wanted him to make me come, I wanted to be good for him. “...I’m…gonna be…so good for you,” I choked out, feeling his hand cinch down around the side of my neck and my center start to pulse with my needed release, “Oh my...God…”

“How’s that feel, baby?” he asked, tapping against my upper wall with each stroke of his thick fingers as the heel of his palm rested at my clit, the friction causing my body to tremble uncontrollably and a squeaky whine to curdle off my tongue. “You wanna come? You wanna come don’t ya?...”

His wicked hot breaths beat out against the sweaty skin of my face, his nose brushing at the side of mine as our lips skimmed with each rock of my body that remained under his control. I was so close, so fucking close. I nodded my head in quiet response and he fucked me even harder with his fingers, hitting against my clit with each twist of his wrist and pump of his hand to steadily beckoning me right over that sweet desirable edge that I was teetering on.

My weakened thighs shook, urging to clamp shut as he held my face to his. “Thought ya wanted me to punish ya?” he whispered, lifting my chin slightly with the press of his thumb, “Thought that’s what bad girls get…”

“Please,” I sputtered out, my eyes flying open to hazily lock on his as the warmth of my orgasm begged to shoot through my trembling body, “please, Niall…

“You gonna be good for me? I wanna hear ya say it again...”

I sucked in a breath, my brows crinkling in as my hips rocked towards his hand, my skin feeling as if it was melting away from the unstoppable fire he was causing inside me. “Yes...” I whimpered, “...I’m...oh f-fuck…” My eyes began to roll back under my eyelids, my unsuppressable release swirling and climbing higher and higher as his fingers thrust deeper and his hand rubbed at my clit–

With the pinched air burning in my lungs, my eyes flew open in silent haste as he slipped his fingers from my leaking pulsing core and lifted himself away from me. My mouth hung open as I watched him grab at my panties and yank them clear off my legs. He tossed them to the floor and without warning, Niall roughly slapped across my sensitive clit, the crude action making my body jerk and coil up in a low moan. I heard a chuckle rumble out from him and the sound of his own clothes hitting my floor in a ruffled heap before the bed shifted and my eyes once again, locked in on his.

He wasted no time, slotting his lean naked body right between my spread legs and sliding his hardened length deep inside my swollen and ready center. Niall let out a low groan from the feeling, a sharp gasp falling from my mouth as he held my shins in his big palms and began to fuck into me. He was rough; his thrusts quick and deep, so much so that it forced the air from my chest and the cries from my lips. My fists slammed to the bed beside me, curling tight into the wrinkled sheets as he tipped his hips forward, his eyes glued down between my legs to watch himself disappear inside me.

“Fuck, baby…” he whispered, barely audible for my ears to catch. I could feel my orgasm creeping up once more, the unyielding feeling sparking from my core to the tips of my curled toes. My mouth hung open, the heat punching into my cheeks and stinging under my eyelids as I gulped for needed breaths and felt the drips of sweat sliding down my naked torso.

He kept fucking into me, faster and harder and just as I went to cry out his name, I felt his body lean over and his mouth attach to mine. He swallowed his name as it slipped past my puffy lips, my hands grasping at the sticky skin of his sides as he wrapped a hand around the side of my face. Careful not to put his full weight on my belly, he kissed me, heavy and passionate, slowly relishing in my taste as it mixed with his own as his slim hips steadily moved between my spread thighs. “You’re so good, baby,” he breathed out between frantic little kisses, “so good…”

Brushing the tip of his nose at mine, I felt him smile against my lips before he pushed his body up and sunk himself as deep into me as he could. I let out a crackling moan, a shuddering wave taking over me as my eyes peeled open to peer up at him knelt between my bent legs. Shooting me a nod, he quirked his brows as he slowly pulled himself from my center. “Turn over,” he instructed, my eyes fluttering and my hands combing through my hair as a breathless smile spread over my mouth.

Giving him a weak sigh, I moved my legs and slowly rolled over, carefully hopping up onto my spread knees. “I’m so...so close, Ni…”

He chuckled under his heaving breaths as he situated himself behind my raised bum. “I know, love...I’m gonna get ya there…”

Tucking my face down into the fluffy mattress, my hair fanned out over me as I pulled in a shaky breath to ready myself, Niall holding himself in his hand to lightly tease at my entrance before slowly burying his slick pulsing cock all the way inside me. My fingers instinctively fisted and tugged at the sheets above my head, a garbled moan creaking past my lips as he slowly pushed in deep and held himself still. My body shook out of my control at the overwhelming feeling; my trembling thighs already wanting to give way beneath me and I burst out a tiny cry as he laid a heavy smack upon the round of my bum.

“Niall…” I whined out to him, needy and rapacious, and I swallowed hard as I felt the solid weight of his body lean over my back.

His fingers swept the damp hair away from the back of my neck and he pushed his face down into the crook of it, his mouth just brushing at my sticky skin. Turning my head, my eyes fluttered open, flicking across the walls of my bedroom as the immeasurable heat began to paralyze me with the thrusts of his hips. Each tantalizing pull of his thick cock, each languid pass of his rigid length along my swollen inner walls caused a shiver to break out over my sweat coated skin and a broken whimper to slip off my parted lips.

“So good,” he whispered against my neck, peppering kisses between soft repeats of his garbled words. Feeling his big hand wrapped around my head, his thick fingers tangled themselves in my stringy hair to firmly hold me still as he rested on his elbow and worked his hips even faster. His heavy breaths pelted out against me in a rhythmic unison to mine and the sound of our slapping skin echoed off my walls and combined with my stark cries as I felt my center begin to pulse around his throbbing length.

Throwing a hand up behind my head, I twisted my fingers into the longer strands of his hair, his hot mouth hungrily sucking and licking across the skin of my neck. “Ni...please…” I pleaded to him, squeezing my eyes shut as my body desperately begged to let go. I was right there, once again so very close and I could feel the tears of my desire start to fill the brim of my eyes, my chest burning in a held breath as the sudden press of his two fingers at my clit made my body completely fall apart.

Niall had barely gotten a full circle over my sensitive little nub before I was convulsing under him, my legs shaking and my back arching high into his touch. I cried out his name, his grip on me becoming tighter as I struggled to contain myself; breathless and losing all control as my blinding orgasm rippled through my trembling body. “That’s it…” I heard him whisper, his mouth sliding up from the heated curve of my neck to sit at my ear. His fingers slowly twirled between my legs as he continued to thrust and work me though. “Let it go, baby…Jesus Christ...you feel so good…”

A crackled whine squeaked out from my dry mouth, my face smushing deeper down into the mattress as his thrusts sped up, groans flowing into my ear from his slackened mouth as he began to work himself towards his own much needed release. “Fuck…fuck…yes...” I mumbled, tugging at his hair, his fingers still mindlessly swirling over my overly sensitive clit before I felt him bury himself deep inside me, so deep I sharply gasped and cinched my lungs around it, my eyes pinching shut at the intense pressure.

“Oh...s-shit–”

His tensed body shuddered against mine, a long gravelly moan bellowing out onto the clammy side of my face as he moved his hand from between my thighs to gently grip around my hip. I felt the smooth languid spurts of his warmth gently fill me, his hips slowing their erratic movements until he fell still, letting the pulse of my used center easily milk him of every drop of his orgasm before slowly dissipating around him. Nudging his nose across my jaw, he pushed out a long contented sigh, my own following as we both laid in heaving silence trying to gather our breaths. My fingers kneaded at his scalp, damp with sweat as I kept him close to me, savoring the feeling of his heated body stuck to mine and the throb of his spent cock that rested inside me.

Pressing tiny kisses to the skin below my ear, his hand gently massaged over the bared flesh of my hip, goosebumps raising across as the increasing chill of the overhead fan began to set in. He gently rocked his hips, just the tiniest bit to relish in the mess we had created inside me and muted hums seeped past my lips at the raw and incredible feeling. “God...you are so good,” he muttered, nuzzling his warm face against mine.

I let out a shy giggle, combing my fingers through his hair. “You keep saying that…”

“It’s ‘cause you are,” he stated, lifting his face from mine a bit, “you smell good, you feel good, you’re just...fuckin’ good…”

I scrunched my face up in a breathy laugh, my body curling up in reaction and I slipped a hand down under my middle to protectively hold around my belly. “God, I can barely even laugh anymore,” I told him as I felt soft kisses being placed across my one shoulder to the back of my neck, “my whole stomach jiggles every time.”

Niall huffed out a chuckle across the sticky skin of my back. “See, you’re even good at bein’ pregnant...”

Knitting my brows, I attempted to peer back at him with a scoff. “That doesn’t even make sense, you’re so weird,” I spit out with another giggle, “And...really fucking dirty too...God, I like that side of you…”

Lifting his face all the way, he rose up to his palm and tipped his head to the side to peer down at me. Looking up at him through the corners of my eyes, he gave me a half smile as we locked our gaze. “Oh ya do?”

“Yeah…”

“Like me bein’ dirty with ya?”

I nodded my head. Feeling the spread of his fingers as his hand slid over my hip and down between my legs once more, I lightly gasped at the feeling, my body already trembling uncontrollably as he rubbed across my leaking center all the way to my tender opening, where he was still buried inside me. My eyes fluttered and danced wildly with his, Niall biting down on his bottom lip as I let out a tiny squeak and pushed the side of my face down into the warm bed. He was slow with his touches, delicate and easy as he played and I heard a faint giggle slip out of his mouth at my reaction before the sharp bite of a slap stung right across my sensitive clit.

A loud hiss slid past my gritted teeth and my eyes popped open at the sudden intense feeling just as the soft thickness of his flaccid cock pulled from me. Niall quickly shifted his worn body over mine and flopped down onto his back, his contagious laugh echoing out into the quiet room. Propping up on my elbows, I twisted my head to the side to look at him, my mouth still hanging open in shock. “Now who’s the bad one…” I hastily commented, rolling my eyes as I slowly turned my body over onto my back and ran my hands through my dampened hair to move it off my face.

Niall pushed out another cackle, rubbing his palms over his sweat coated face before slapping them to his bare chest. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me later then, won’t ya?”

Giving me a wink, I couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked laying in my bed. Hair all a disheveled mess, puffy cheeks flushed and mottled red and his slim body sweaty and reeking of being freshly fucked. And those indescribable blue eyes flicking with mine as I soaked up the deliciously beautiful sight of him. Rolling onto my side, I reached out and cupped my hand at his jaw, the prickles of his grown beard scratching at the tender skin of my palm as I leaned into him and pushed a kiss to his mouth. “I can’t wait,” I whispered as I inched back, darting my eyes over his and dragging my fingertips up across his forehead to wipe a few small strands of his hair away. A smile slid over Niall’s lips and I dropped my hand to his chest, pausing for a moment to wallow in the heated quiet of his stare before rolling back over onto my back.

Clearing his throat, Niall sucked in a yawn as I grabbed at the covers, tucking them up under the swell of my belly and letting the cool air of the fan dry off the dampened skin of my upper body. “So, you ever gonna eat that damn burrito I made ya?” Niall finally spoke up, my eyes going big as I flicked my stare over to him.

“Oh my God! My burrito!”

Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I quickly flicked my hair over in my hand and reached out to grab the plate off the nightstand. “Gross, Laine, it’s probably cold now,” he mentioned between breathy giggles, tucking his hands up under his head as he peered over at me.

“You just told me to eat it! Besides, you think I care?” I asked him with a scoff as I picked up the burrito and took a huge bite. My eyes rolled back in a loud enthusiastic moan as I chewed, Niall forcing out a chuckle at my reaction.

“Jesus, you don't even moan like that for me...”

Practically choking on the bite of food, my face dipped down as I clamped a hand over my mouth and glanced over at him. “Niall!” I finally quipped, my cheeks blaring pink as I swallowed, “Stop it! That’s not true...”

His face scrunched up in a laugh and he shook his head at me. Setting the plate down on the peak of my belly, I looked down at my food in my hand as I took another bite. “It’s really good though,” I told him, flicking my eyes to his, “you should try a bite…”

Hoisting himself up slightly, his lips turned down as he bent his face towards me so I could feed him a nibble, a giggling spilling past my lips at the mess he inevitably made in the process. “Mmm, that is pretty fuckin’ good,” he mumbled with a mouth half full of food, “I’m a good chef.”

I took another big bite. “Yes, you are.”

Peeking over at him, he gave me a half smile and I licked across my lips before feeling the rolling movements of the baby in my tummy. My eyes shot down, my hand flinging out to tap at Niall’s side. “Oh my God, look.”

Both of us stared down at the plate that was resting on my bare stomach, teetering back and forth as the baby moved and flipped around inside me. “Jesus,” Niall mumbled under his breath, “I love seein’ the baby move like that...it’s fuckin’ crazy...”

Snatching the plate off of my belly, he reached over my body to place it on the nightstand next to me, my hand flinging out to lay the last bites of the burrito on it before I slouched back down into the bed. Niall shifted his body down the bed a little, enough to just lean himself closer to my middle and rested his large hand on my belly, nestling into me. My head sunk into my feathery pillow, tipping to the side as I quietly watched Niall immerse himself in the slow fluid movements of our baby inside me. It was a beautiful little moment; his tired half lidded eyes taking in every tiny kick and roll under the stretch of my skin, the smile that permanently adhered itself to his lips and the way he peeked up at me, his big hand splayed under the tiny poke of my belly button as he placed sweet kisses to my tummy.

It was sweet and simple, adoring and cute and it sparked a flood of butterflies in my stomach and a swell of my heart that I wasn’t prepared for. Dragging my fingertips over the sharp lines of his shoulder blades, my eyelids slowly fell closed as I let the softness of his kisses and the warmth of his breath on my belly gently drift me off to sleep.

I awoke much later that morning to an empty bed and an even emptier house. Yawning out of my sleep, I carefully stretched my body as I rolled over towards the space that he had been laying. His side of the bed was completely made up, the thought making me smile as I rubbed across my tired eyes with the round of my knuckles. Lifting my head slightly, I caught glimpse of a small scrap of notepaper that was resting on the pillow and promptly furrowed my brows as I reached over and plucked it up off the soft fabric.

Rolling my eyes, I tucked my lips into my mouth to suppress the even bigger smile that was attempting to spread, but had zero luck. Niall was so sweet, too sweet at times and just the thought that this was all real, this was a thing, him and I, and this was my life...it seemed too good to be true. And, deep down, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

After lugging myself out of my bed and into the shower, I decided to venture out to a few baby boutiques that I had wanted to check out, still not entirely sure what essentials I would need or the type of things I should get for the baby, but I was eager to see what my choices were. Niall and I had been to a few, him pointing out a variety of things but me not being able to make up my mind on any of them, but we both knew we still had plenty of time. At that point, I had barely even bought anything for the baby and even though I was trying my best to save up as much as I could for the stuff I would need, I couldn’t help but want to have a few cute things stashed away.

I spent the warm sunny afternoon strolling through the various shops and I did end up picking up a few items that had caught my eye: a huge ultra plush stuffed elephant, a cute little pair of baby Vans and a tiny little Derby jersey, one that as soon as I saw it, knew Niall would go absolutely nuts for. It wasn’t even a question to me, our baby definitely needed it.

I got back to my house a little bit after 4pm, picking up a decent sized takeaway pizza on the way home. Changing into some less restricting lounge clothes, I curled up on my couch and turned on an old movie, the pizza box conveniently spread out on my lap as I began to stuff my face. Nothing tastes as good as a warm cheesy pizza when you are pregnant. Though that could probably be said about anything while pregnant. As I sat alone and quietly ate my huge pizza, I realized I hadn’t really spoken to Niall all that much; just one text a few hours earlier that he had sent me saying he’d be done with his meetings soon, so when he walked right into my flat about fifteen minutes later, I was a little bit surprised.

A huge smirk played on his face the second he saw the state of me, and I couldn’t even try and hide the fact that I was a big ol’ mess on my couch as he shuffled over and placed a sweet little kiss to my lips. “Surprised you’re eatin’ pizza…” he teased, setting his keys and phone on my kitchen counter as he chucked his paddy cap off his head and tossed it down next to them.

My brows knitted briefly as I pushed my back into the arm of the couch, my feet swung up and planted on the couch cushions as I balanced the pizza box on my knees. “What do you mean? I love pizza?” I shot back, peering down as I picked some bits of crust off another slice and popped it in my mouth.

“Oh I know that,” he said with a chuckle, his brows raised as he walked over and slumped down on the couch by my feet, grabbing a slice from the box. “Just thought you’d be eatin’ the rest of the burritos.”

“Meh...kinda over it.”

Niall huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “ ‘course ya are.”

I giggled out a half smile and closed up the box, leaning over to the side slightly to place it on the coffee table. “So how was your day?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest and tilting my head to the side to rest on the back of the couch.

“It was alright,” he said between open mouth chews of pizza. My eyes followed as he brought his hand up and slowly wiped under his bottom lip with the length of his finger. “Got a lot done. Some dates set, promo and shows and stuff. Gotta start auditionin’ for the band, which should be really cool.”

“Well, that’s good,” I told him, my voice soft, “must be exciting, getting so close and everything.”

Niall nodded his head and stuffed the last bit of crust in his mouth before dusting off his hands. “Yeah, a bit nerve wrackin’, I guess...but really excitin’.”

“Kinda like having a baby?”

His blue eyes slowly looked over at me, the one corner of his mouth tugging up just a bit. Pulling in a slow deep breath, he hiked his elbow up on the arm of the sofa and tilted his head as his stare drifted over my face. “Yeah…kinda like havin’ a baby…”

My shoulders hunched forward in a soft giggle. “Speaking of baby...I got you something...”

“You did?”

“Well, it’s technically for the baby, I guess,” I continued, flicking my eyes up to the ceiling, “but it’s sorta for you too…” His face scrunched up a bit in confusion and I reached down next to me to pick up the plastic bag that was on the floor by the couch. “Here...open it,” I said to him, throwing the bag into his lap.

He snorted out a chuckle as he peered down in his lap, his arm falling from its place on the armrest to open the bag. Biting at my lip, my fingers curled up at my chest and I tipped my chin down as I watched the expression of his face quickly change as he carefully pulled out the little green and white jersey. His mouth hung open, soon overpassed with a huge smile as he outstretched his arms and held it up, his gaze swarming over it before he peeked at me. “Where did you find this? It’s sick as hell!”

My eyes pinched shut in a hushed giggle at his reaction. “I saw it in a shop today...made me think of you,” I told him as he gently folded the jersey back up and placed it in the bag, “Thought...the baby should have it’s own...you know, to match daddy…”

Licking across his lips, he kept his stare down for a moment before looking back over at me. “This is awesome...really.”

I gingerly nodded my head as he set the bag down by his feet. “Also, it’s good for a boy or a girl, so...we’re safe either way,” I finished with a half shrug of my shoulder.

“That’s true,” he mentioned with a huff and a raise of his brows, “So, you thought of any names yet?”

“No, not really,” I confessed, my mouth pursing to the side, “I mean, I’ve been looking in the book and stuff, but, I don’t know, nothing is really jumping out at me. I figure once it’s born and we know if its a boy or girl, then we can…decide from there.”

Niall gave me a nod. “What about you? You...find anything you like?” I asked him, curious to see if he’s given it any thought.

Shrugging his shoulders, he rolled his lips in his mouth. “There’s a few ones that I like, but...I’d rather wait too. Sometimes it’s good to see what the baby looks like and such.”

I let out a low hum and dropped my stare to the bend of my knees. “Yeah…”

Before I knew what was happening, I felt the sofa shift under me and Niall’s hand fly between my knees to rest on the round of my growing belly. I giggled softly under my breath as I peered down at his hand rubbing tiny circles, my knees parting a little to give him room. Leaning his upper body over towards me, he slotted himself between my legs, forcing them to spread open even wider as he lowered his face close to my belly. “Fair warnin’, you better come out lookin’ like your mumma, little one,” he mumbled to the covered swell of my tummy, “That’s an order. You don’t wanna come into this world lookin’ like me…”

My mouth dropped open in a hushed gasp just as Niall lifted his face to look up at me. “I hope the baby comes out looking like you…” I remarked with a breathy giggle.

“Aww don’t go puttin’ that on the kid,” he chuckled, “that wouldn’t be good…”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.” Reaching my hand towards him, I gently slid my fingers through the side of his dark styled hair. His eyes darted over mine, fluttering lightly as my nails delicately scraped at his scalp and I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as the pads of my fingers traced down the shell of his ear.

Sitting himself up a bit, my touch slowly fell from the side of his face as my eyes locked in on his, noticing the slight trepidation that had taken over. “Laine, can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Yeah, of course,” I told him, crinkling my brow as my head tipped to the side, “anything…”

“What are your plans?”

Narrowing my eyes, my lips slowly parted as I shook my head. “What...what do you mean?”

He pulled in a breath, his gaze sliding off of mine for a moment. “For, like, after the baby is born? I mean, I’m assumin’ you and the baby will be here...but, like...what about me?”

Catching his stare as he looked back at me, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and the sweat beading up on the insides of my palms. The way he was looking at me; his soft little lips parted and turned down at the corners, his blue eyes wide with apprehension as he waited for me to answer him, it all made the tears want to rush to the brims of my eyes. Swallowing hard, my eyelids fluttered as I brought my hands up and clasped them around the sides of his face. “C’mere…” I whispered, gently tugging him towards me, his body slotting down to rest between my legs once again as his face sat flush to mine. “Niall, I told you from the very beginning that I would never keep this baby from you. You are just as much a part of its life as I am. This baby is you and it’s me. I want you around and I want you present.”

My stare darted over the beautifully rugged features of his face, my thumbs ghosting down the sides of his cheeks as he sucked in a jumbled breath. It took all I had in me not to break down into a bucket of tears. “Then…don’t you think, maybe, it would be easier if you just moved in with me?”

With my eyes going big, my thumbs stilled their movements on his skin. “What?”

Niall licked over his lips, his one shoulder raising as he continued. “Yeah, I mean...ya know, the baby could have it’s own room, the house is bigger, better area...a back garden and all of that,” he stated, flicking his eyes with mine, “I could take care of you, not that I wasn’t going to before, but…ya know, you wouldn’t be alone and I could...be with you guys all the time…”

“Niall, I…” I stuttered out, slipping my hands off his pretty face as I turned to peer down at the pizza box that was sitting on the table, “I can’t do that.”

He leaned his head to the side, his attempt at catching my stare and I folded my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

“Because…” I paused, my eyes rolling over to meet the gaze of his, “I just...I can’t, okay? And I need you to understand that.”

He let out a discontented huff. “I just...I don’t wanna miss anythin’, Laine, and I feel like with me workin’ on my album and bein’ gone a lot more with tourin’ and stuff, that havin’ you both there–”

“This is my house, Niall,” I spit out, cutting him off, “This is where I live, not your house. And besides, what if I did move in and then…” My voice slowly drifted off.

“Then...what?”

“Ni, a baby changes things, okay?” I told him, shaking my head as I locked my eyes with his. “Like, a lot, it complicates things. Right now we’re good, we’re really good but that’s because it’s just you and me but once this baby comes...what would happen if it all changed and…it all went bad? Then what would I do? I’d have nowhere to go...”

Pressing my lips in a line, I watched as his face dropped a bit, his big hand coming up to frustratingly card through the front of his hair. “Look, I get why you want me to live with you, I really do and honestly, spending time like this with you is easily the best moments of my day, but I have to protect myself...I have to make sure me and the baby-....I just..I can’t,” I finished, my voice falling soft as I reached back up to him and cupped around his jaw. Niall darted his eyes over mine, the glassy blue making me swallow back the small lump that had formed in my throat. “I really am so sorry…”

Scraping his teeth over his bottom lip, he faintly nodded his head. “It’s okay,” he said softly, turning his face to kiss at the heel of my palm, “I get it...I do get it. I’m just happy if you’re happy..”

I gulped back a breath and gave him a sincere smile. “I am happy.”

He flicked his eyes over my face, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly in response. “Me too.” Leaning his face back down, he pushed his nose to the peak of my full belly, both his hands splayed around at the sides. “I love you,” he whispered before placing a tiny kiss to my tummy. The air cinched past my lungs as I kept my eyes glued to him, desperately trying my best to stuff down the intense feelings that were so eagerly creeping up. “Daddy will always love you…”

[cherryaire]

I heard about the prompts for Dan's birthday, so how about either of these choices? 1. All of the Grumps give him a special present each from their own heart 2. Some great Egobang (because why not?)

I pretty much did both! Gotta drop Egobang in there because I’m 100% certified egobang trash!

Brian -

Dan looks at the rectangle package Brian has handed him. It’s wrapped in plain blue paper, and scribbled in the top left corner are the words “Happy birthday, dick.” He knows immediately that it’s a book, and if it’s a professionally bound copy of The Beej, Dan might actually go to jail for second degree murder.

“Of course you got me a book,” Dan says dryly.

“Open it, you idiot,” Brian tells him, and Dan sighs dramatically, if only to annoy Brian a little bit more.

His sass evaporates immediately upon tearing off the wrapping paper, however. Tears immediately well up in his eyes and he has to set the book down next to him on the couch because of how bad his hands are shaking.

It’s a signed, first edition copy of “The Last Unicorn.”  

Brian grunts from the impact of Dan practically tackling him and hugging him tight. “Happy birthday, Danny,” Brian says, petting Dan’s hair.

“Thank you.”

-

Later on in the day, when he sees Audrey, she excitedly gives him a stegosaurus plushie and wetly kisses his cheek before running away, cackling.

Barry/Vernon/Brent -

There’s a large box waiting for him on Barry’s kitchen table. He hasn’t been over too much since he moved, considering how busy they are, so he and Barry have planned to get some take out and watch shitty movies, just like old times. “What’s this?” Dan asks while he hangs his jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It’s a plain cardboard box, and the only indication that it’s something special is the bow that’s taped to the top.

“Open it,” Barry urges, not looking up from where he’s unpacking their Chinese food. “It’s from me, Brent, and Vernon.”

Dan grabs a paring knife from the block and slices through the tape. He opens it to find several items, and he’s not quite sure what everything is until he begins pulling out shirts. There are six old band tour shirts, plus a Kurt Cobain memorial shirt. There are three Rush ones, a Yes one that he could probably wear as a dress, one from The Cure, and one from Pink Floyd. Dan peeks into the box again to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and sure enough there’s a bubble wrapped parcel in the bottom, which he tears into once he gets his hands on it. Out spills more vintage band merch, this time a Rush patch, three Rush pins, four Def Leppard pins, and an Asia pin. Dan is smiling so hard his face fucking hurts.

“Dude!” he shouts, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “This is so fucking rad!” He waits until he’s sure that Barry’s hands are empty to sweep the shorter man into a tight hug. Barry laughs warmly and pats Dan’s back. “Thank you!”

“Brent and Vern helped me find quite a few of them,” Barry reminds him. Dan whips out his phone and snaps a picture of the pile of merch before sending it and a very enthusiastic thank you text to Brent and Vernon. Barry helps Dan refold the shirts and put everything back in the box so that they can clear off the table to eat. When they’re settled, Barry pipes up with “and now you can wear more than the three t-shirts you cycle through constantly” and Dan chucks a piece of sweet and sour chicken at him.

Suzy -

“Jesus, Scuze,” Dan grunts, taking the large, heavy package from Suzy and resting it on his coffee table. It’s at least two foot long and two foot wide, if not more. He’s glad that he’s got some open space on his walls left, otherwise he’d have to do a fair bit of rearranging.

Suzy is sitting on the couch next to him, curled like a cat. Arin is in his kitchen unpacking their dinner. “Has he opened it yet?” he calls.

“Not yet!” Suzy calls back. She turns to Dan with a childlike excitement on her beautiful face. “Open it!”

“Did Arin want me to wait for him or—”

“Open the fucking present, Dan,” Arin says from where he’s leaned into the living room. As soon as he’s appeared, he’s gone again, and the sound of clinking plates begins as he divvies out the food.

“Demandy Sandy,” Dan mumbles, but obliges. He carefully tears the black wrapping paper (why had he expected anything else from Suzy?) to reveal a gorgeous map of Middle Earth, set deep into a nice black frame. “Whoa.” He leans in close to examine it, finding that it’s incredibly detailed. 

“Do you like it?” Suzy asks, hopeful.

Dan wraps his arm around her and pulls her tight to his side before kissing her temple. She giggles and wraps her own arms around his waist and snuggles into his side. She smells like peonies and freesia. “Thank you, Scuzy. It’s beautiful.”

Ross and Holly -

While they wait for everyone to arrive at the office for Dan’s impromptu birthday party, Holly comes bounding up to him. Dan can’t help but smile at her. She’s so radiant and the happiness on her face is contagious. She’s carrying a box that’s wrapped in brown paper and decorated with birds. “Happy birthday!”

He takes the package from her and eyes the wrapping. “It’s almost so pretty I don’t want to open it,” he muses. He knows that she drew the birds on it, and it feels wrong to tear through someone’s artwork. 

“I taped it pretty simplistically so you shouldn’t have to tear it if you don’t want to,” she says, pointing to the sparse amounts of scotch tape on the flaps. Dan grins and slowly undoes the tape, taking care to not rip the paper. He’s gonna hang it up somewhere in his music room.

“Oh my God, Holls, this is awesome!” In his lap sits a Legend of Zelda chess set. He’s been meaning to get a chess set for a long time so that he and Arin can also play when they’re at his house, but he had never gotten around to it. He carefully rolls the wrapping paper and secures it with some of the tape he had peeled off before hugging Holly tight, causing her to squeal when he lifts her slightly off the floor. 

“You’re welcome, Dan,” she says breathlessly when he sets her down. “The only thing I ask though is that you let me play a game with you.”

“Deal.”

-

After everyone has had cupcakes and people have begun to clear out, needing to return to their duties or head out to prior engagements, Ross shuffles up to Dan and places two small boxes on the table in front of him. “Hap birth,” he says dryly.

Dan fixes him with an incredulous look before chuckling and shaking his head. He opens the smallest one first, and he’s greeted with a little blue ceramic stegosaurus. He’s a little goofy lookin’ and Dan is immediately in love. “Aww, he’s so cute!”

“It glows in the dark, too,” Ross says, and Dan gasps.

“It’s like the 80s up in this bitch,” he says, reaching for the second package.

“Yeah, if we’re talking about your age,” Ross quips, and Dan uses his long legs to his advantage, lightly kicking his socked foot into Ross’ shin. 

The second present looks so fragile that Dan’s almost afraid to touch it. It’s a replica of a stegosaurus skeleton crafted out of paper. It’s contained in a glass dome. “Dude,” Dan says, astonished. It’s like having a museum display in his hand! He makes sure to carefully wrap it up before putting it back in the box. He really, really doesn’t want to break it. Before Ross can escape, Dan has captured him in a hug, and even though Ross is grumbling, Dan knows he loves it since he’s hugging him back. “Thanks, man.”

“I mean, I needed to get the dinosaur some dinosaurs, right?”

What an ass.

Arin -

It’s weird that it’s two days past his birthday and Arin hasn’t given him anything. It’s not that he thinks he deserves something, but it’s very out of character for Arin to not give someone a gift of some kind for a holiday. He loves any excuse he can get to give someone something that will make them smile.

Dan has settled himself on the Grump couch while he waits for Arin to finish doing whatever he’s doing out in the main office. He scrolls through the subreddit with a smile on his face upon seeing all of the ‘happy birthday!’ messages. He’s hasn’t been super excited about his birthday since he turned twenty one, since after that there aren’t really any milestones to look forward to until you reach retirement age. Getting so much love from his friends and the fans, however, has made him enjoy his birthday a bit more since it reminds him just how awesome people can be.

Dan puts his phone to sleep when he hears the sound of the door opening behind him, and sure enough, Arin comes around the couch and sits down next to him a moment later. He’s holding one hand behind his back however, and he looks nervous.

“What’s up, Ar?” Dan asks. 

“I uh, I have your present, but before I give it to you I wanted to say sorry for it being late. There was a delay on it getting done for some fuckin’ reason.” Dan furrows his brow, confused.

“Okay.” He nods his head. “It’s not a problem, big cat. I’m just appreciative that you got me something, man.”

Arin smiles, and it lights up the entire room. His cheeks are flushed pink when he removes his hand from behind his back and hands Dan a hardcover children’s book. Dan is confused for a few seconds before he fully reads the cover. It’s the book he wrote a few years ago that Arin was going to illustrate. Dan’s mouth drops open slightly with a gasp, and he cracks the book open so that he can flip through the pages.

It’s professionally printed and bound, and it looks like something he could find in Barnes and Noble. The illustrations are fucking gorgeous. They’re not done in Arin’s usual style. Dan brushes a finger over the page, completely enamored. He doesn’t know jack shit about art, but he’s pretty sure that it’s hard pastels and watercolors. The colors are so vibrant and it’s exactly like he had always imagined. 

He only realizes he’s crying when he tastes salt on his lips.

Carefully, he shuts the book and sets it on the table in front of them before he turns to face Arin, who is watching him with bated breath. Dan doesn’t fully know what possesses him to do it—maybe it’s just because it feels right—but he cradles Arin’s face in his hands and kisses him softly on the mouth. Arin’s sharp intake of breath is loud, but after a second he relaxes and releases the breath. The sensation of facial hair against his upper lip and chin is strange—it’s very different, but it’s not a bad kind of different.

When Dan pulls away, he opens his eyes to see that Arin still has his closed. His cheeks are a lovely rosy pink, and his lips are parted and shiny. Dan can’t help but press a second chaste kiss to them.

Dan leans into Arin’s warmth and presses his face against his neck, winding his arms around the younger man’s waist and holding him tight. “Thank you, baby girl,” he says, and Arin shivers at the feeling of Dan’s breath on his sensitive skin. Arin runs his fingers slowly through Dan’s hair, making sure to not catch his fingers on any possible knots. Dan leans into the touch, a complete opposite of the reaction he would have had four years ago. The thought makes Arin smile.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it took me like, three years to get it to you.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dan tells him. “It’s perfect.” 

There’s a long swath of silence before either of them speak again. Dan feels the rumble in Arin’s chest before he hears what he says. “Could I kiss you again?”

He pulls back so that he can look at Arin. A smile breaks out across his face.

“Absolutely.”

all of dan’s gifts

[skinnedhearts]

and so, he begged

Wamu convinces Anzu to join his band for a quick practice in hopes of landing a permanent (and highly needed) guitarist. Anzu is just really gay.

The mask on his face felt uncomfortable. Nimble fingers toyed with the thin straps tight against his skin and the outer shell of his ear. Anzu fumbled with the cloth, two minutes later, he accepted defeat. Thin mask lowered and tucked under his chin, Anzu leaned back against the school's bricked wall and slipped three gummy worms into his mouth. Slowly, he chewed the candy. From his spot (an emergency stair case smacked between the chemistry lab and the music room) Anzu had the perfect view of the outskirts of the baseball field and the complete layout of the school's fancy tennis courts. 

A practice session was in play. 

Anzu doesn't care for the sport, he found it dull and quite pointless…His eyes are glued to the first court where a player rolled his shoulders and fixed his stance. Green curls of hair hugged his face, his unreadable expression made Anzu frown. The distance blurred the details and it would continue doing so until Anzu gathered the courage to infiltrate the tennis' benches. For now, he settled for hard to distinguish actions and ant sized scenes. 

Picking a red and yellow gummy from the plastic bag in his hands, Anzu chewed on the worm's head and promptly slurped it down like a noodle. Absorbed in his daily activities, he hardly noticed when a skinny boy waltzed up the stairs and plopped himself down two steps below. It wasn't until the boy cleared his throat that Anzu lowered his head, a green gummy hanged from between his lips. 

"Hello! My name is Wamu!" Wamu eagerly greeted, "You don't know me! But I know you!" 

Anzu arched an eyebrow. A row of dreadlocks slid from his shoulders and hugged his handsome face once he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "Do you now?"

"Yup!" nodded Wamu, "I've seen you around and er-" Wamu's forehead wrinkled in hesitation, "…Heard things about you."

Intrigued, Anzu's lips twitched upwards, "All good things?" 

"Not entirely." Wamu solemnly admitted before he perked up and beamed from ear to ear, "But I'm not here to talk about shitty rumors!" 

Scrambling closer, Wamu scooted up a step, and then another, until he was seated besides Anzu, who blankly stared at the flamboyant boy. Once he was settled, Wamu stretched his short legs out, tipped his head back and basked in the warm sun. 

Silence filled the space between the two boys. Above their heads, the limbs of a tree trembled and as it swayed in the breeze, sunlight slipped between the leafs and branches. Illuminated spots of light danced across their shoulders, legs and shoes. The chirps of an army of cicadas drifted through the warm, summer afternoon and there they sat, in a shared, short-lived silence. 

Unbothered by the newly (and unfamiliar) obtained company, Anzu slid another gummy worm into his mouth, frowning slightly when he noticed the plastic packet running low on candy. Savoring his last gummy, he found his attention drawn back to the courts. The green haired tennis player stood surrounded by teammates and Anzu didn't have to be near by to know he was joyfully laughing. 

"Where's your guitar?" Wamu finally asked. 

"Home." Anzu dryly answered. 

"You always have it with you though!" 

"Not today."

"Why not? You practice up here, don't you."

Anzu would've found Wamu's extensive knowledge regarding his personal life troubling if it weren't for the rumors circling their school, because really, Anzu had heard them all before: He's a drug lord, a thief, a murderer, a low-life, dirt-poor bastard, a part-time model, a homeless bum, a playboy, a plagiarizer…The rumors go on and on, most gravitate around fear or admiration and some held more truth than others. 

While he could speak out and address the hushed whispers, Anzu preferred not to. Clearing his name meant acceptance and acceptance led to unwanted friendships. Of course, every once in awhile, Anzu would cross paths with red-cheeked girls, who shyly bowed their heads as they bashfully twisted their fingers through their hair and unloaded heart felt confessions of love…All which Anzu would turn away with a simple word: Nah. 

After, came the bomber jacket cladded jocks, with their toothy grins and worn out insults, all which were ignored by Anzu. His brother, Kiel, had said it was borderline harassment, something Anzu had dismissed with a shake of his head.

The ugly words, dirty glares and mocking laughs didn't bother him; the world is much too loud, they're all so small and Anzu's head is stuck in cotton candy clouds. Half of the time, he's swimming in a lake of drugs, the smoke drips from the point of his teeth and the edge of his tongue, it's thick and blinding when pressed against his skin…His peeling skin, or at least, Anzu felt his skin recoil and later expand like the shedding of a snake. It's partly the drugs and when it's not, it comes down to his fragile immune system and aching body. He's always in pain, it always hurt, it always stung…

"Anzu?" Wamu's bright, pink eyes blocked his view. 

Though Wamu's face was uncomfortably close to his, Anzu kept his distaste under wraps.

Next, came the weirdos, the over-the-top, friendly, weirdos. Besides Wamu, there was a blue haired boy who loved to shove plates of food in Anzu's empty hands. The blue haired boy would giggle as he cheerfully explained his mistake: Oh, I made too much food again! It's really good! You should try it! 

Anzu saw right through the boy's white lies, he knew what the other was up to, he could almost taste the pity and sympathy leaking from his wide smile…Anzu accepted the food with a nod and moved on. 

However, Wamu wasn't here to offer him food. 

"I practice when I have time." Anzu said.

"Aaaaand…You're busy right now?" Wamu sang.

"Yes." 

He's not busy. His favorite past time involved the soft hum of his guitar, the vibration of chords under his fingers as he fully focused on the green haired tennis player in the distance. There's inspiration behind Micah's fluid movements…There's art behind his curly hair, freckled skin and skinned knees…There's a song hidden on his bottom lip and there's untold lyrics in the dip of his hips. Perched on the stairs, those far off stairs, Anzu watched as his crush bared his teeth and ripped his heart apart with a swipe of his racket, because at some point, the tennis ball was replaced with Anzu's bleeding love.

"You don't look busy to me." Wamu insisted with a lopsided grin. 

Finally, Anzu forced his gaze away from the tennis courts and onto Wamu's eager face, "What do you want from me kid?" 

"Kid?" Wamu wrinkled his nose, "We're in the same grade!" When his question was met with a bored stare, Wamu cleared his throat and continued onto business, "I know you're really good on guitar!"

Anzu shrugged, "That's just a rumor."

"But I've heard you play at the tattoo shop, you-"

A growl vibrated in Anzu's throat, "How do you know about the tattoo shop?"

Completely unphased by Anzu's sudden display of emotions, Wamu carried on, chipper as ever, "My older brother has loads of tattoos! We recently made an appoint at The Heartstained Room, don't you remember me?" he asked, wide eyes as round as buttons, his head fell to the side, "We talked for a bit!" 

Again, Anzu shrugged, "Shop's always packed."

"You were cleaning your other guitar, the electric one, and I asked if you'd ever be down to play in a band and you, um…Shrugged." 

"Sounds about right."

Wamu puffed out his cheeks, "Well," his voice shook and slowly, it regained its confidence, "Join my band!"

"You're…In a band?" Anzu asked, disbelief lacing the question.

"Yeah!" Bouncing to his feet, Wamu fist bumped his own chest and posed, "Don't I look like your typical lead singer?"

No, Anzu had not bothered to take in Wamu's appearance when his vision was filled to the brim with crispy clean, white, tennis uniforms and brand name sneakers. As Wamu stuck his leg out and stretched his arms above his head, Anzu's eyes skipped from Wamu's dirty combat boots, his ripped, skinny jeans to his faded, black leather jacket with too many buckles and rounded studs to count. His hair was decorated in bright, streaks of pink which made him look too much like a colorful skunk. 

Anzu leaned back, his uninterested tone tore through Wamu's sparkling aura, "I ain't into the techno bizz."

Wamu's mouth fell open, he gasped and stomped his foot, "We are NOT a techno band! We're a rock band! The best of the best!"

"What's the name?"

"..Huh?"

"The name of your band." 

"Oh! That's…" Wamu hanged his head in shame, "We don't have one…YET!" The 'yet' was said with an excited shout as he brought his fists to his sides and hopped about, "We'll have one soon though!"

"Sounds real fuckin’ messy."

"It's not!" Wamu reassured Anzu with a big, dazzling grin, "We're really good! We just can't decide on a name."

Anzu nodded, "Cool."

Wamu's smile broke into a pout, "So?"

"So what?"

"Will you join us." Wamu hopefully asked.

"Nah." 

"Pleassseeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….Pretty pleaseeeeee, join us for one practice! You can judge us yourself."

Anzu collected the empty plastic bag, now void of gummy worms, and threw it into his bag, "I ain't got the time to be playin' made believe rock bands with you and your friends." 

With the simple rejection out in the open, Anzu collected his belongings and stood, but before he could take a step, Wamu wrapped his arms around his left leg. Like a drowning man, the small boy clung onto him, head angled upwards as distraught inked his pleading face, "Anzu…pleaseeeeeeee we need you!"

If Anzu had doubted it before, there was no question about it now: Wamu was one-hundred percent one of the weird ones.

"I ain't bullshittin' when I say I don't have the time-"

"It won't take long! Just a couple of songs!"

"I don't-"

"ANZU PLEASE!" Wamu exclaimed, "PLEASE I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!"

"I don't want anythin'." Anzu calmly replied.

"PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE. I'll hold on for as long as I have to!"

"I have to get to work kid. Can't be late for that."

"Guess I'm coming along!" Wamu said as he hugged Anzu's leg tightly.

Anzu rolled his eyes, "…You’re actin' like a brat."

"…I know but…" Wamu's eyes twinkled with tears, "This is important to me. Come on, there must be something I can do for you in return."

Tugging his mask over his mouth, Anzu then cursed his weak body…Wamu was a small boy and if Anzu wasn't currently aching and coming down with the flu for the 3rd time that month, he would've picked Wamu by the collar and placed him aside. Seconds away from kicking Wamu off, the distance glee of a cheer caught Anzu's attention. In the tennis courts, Micah celebrated the end of perfect practice game. The tennis player threw his shirt off and used it to wipe his sweaty face. Anzu's skin burned. Swallowing down an awkward hitch in his voice, Anzu then addressed Wamu.

"Are you friendly with the tennis team?"

"Yes, I know most of them." Wamu blinked his innocent eyes, clueless to what Anzu had in mind. Anzu previously noted how oblivious and stuck in his own world Wamu tended to be and while it was annoying, it had it's charming strides. 

"What about their captain? You know him?" 

"Micah!? Of course I know him! He's pretty good pals with my best friend!" 

"Your best friend?" 

Wamu nodded, "He's our drummer! You'll like him!"

The drummer, all he needed to do was talk to the drummer…A plan fell into place inside Anzu's head. 

"Cool. What time do you want to meet up?"

Wamu's eyes nearly popped out of his head, "A-are you serious!?" Much too caught up in the moment, Wamu didn't question why or what had made Anzu sing a different tune, "W-whatever time works for you! We practice every night after school so we're all free whenever you want to drop by and-"

Anzu cut Wamu off, "How about tomorrow?"

"Yes! Yes! Tomorrow is perfect!" Wamu released Anzu's leg and instead hopped up to wrap his arms around Anzu's waist, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" 

Anzu allowed the boy to squeeze him tightly before he lightly shoved him away,

"Aight, knock it off or I won't show up."

Not having to be told twice, Wamu stepped aside and continued spewing a storm of thank yous. Even when Anzu made his way down the stairs and disappeared around the corner, Wamu continued to drown him in gratitude.