#convertable to hip bag

[hypnagogic-marshmallow]

I put a sling bag on my christmas list. Then in true ADHD fashion, I forgot I put it on the list, was very surprised to receive it, and then spent the rest of the present-opening ceremony poking around every little feature I didn't know it had.

[lokidjarin-7567]

Kinktober Day 7: Secret Relationship

Spencer Reid x you

Contents: fem!reader x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), oral sex fem receiving, flashbacks, ooey gooey feelings

W/C: 3.2k

Ok so I’m behind again, oops, but I’m proud of this one! Again, not the kinkiest but I got carried away with the fluff and I also got into a cipher-related rabbit hole so I hope you enjoy regardless :))

PS: This is also a love letter to pre-boyband hair season 5 Spencer, AKA my favourite hair era, as depicted below

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” A voice whispered beside you, a touch too close to be just colleagues. You smiled uncontrollably, heart rate picking up as his hand brushed across your back.

“Sounds good.”

That’s how you found yourself pressed against the door of the copy room, Spencer’s lips on yours, his hand up your skirt.

“We’ve got time, baby…” He practically whined between kisses, bucking his hips into yours.

“Spence! We have…“ you checked you watch absentmindedly, “5 minutes until briefing.” He grinned.

“I take that as a challenge…”

His head started to dip, moving to kneel down, but you grabbed his hair with a fake gasp of disbelief, pulling him back up to his usual height, looming over you.

“Oh honey, I don’t doubt you could, but I’m not sure these walls are soundproof.” Your fingers moved to his cheek, and he sighed into your lips, his hands returning to your waist and squeezing.

“But you left so early this morning, I didn't have time to start your day right…” You were grinning ear to ear, noses bumping into each other clumsily, and you whimpered into his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I know, I know, I’ll make it up to you later, I promise…” You kissed him one last time with finality, pushing off the door and smoothing your skirt, but he was slightly less keen to leave, pressing himself against your hip as he helped straighten your hair and lip gloss. “I should probably leave first. You clearly need a minute.” He huffed behind you, but you had already slipped out of the room, heading into the bullpen as if nothing had happened.

You’d had a crush on him for a long time before anything happened. You joined the team a couple of years ago as a linguistics and code-breaking expert - something that was surprisingly helpful in the cases the BAU took on. You’d harboured years of butterflies, coy glances, occasional hand grazes… and you thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it. You’d known it was unrequited - he never so much as looked in your direction unless he was asking your opinion on something he was working on. It was starting to get to you. Your feelings had slowly been growing, swelling in your chest as you watched from afar, to the point where you had considered transferring departments. And then it all changed.

It was a case in California; a serial killer who was carving encrypted messages into his victims posthumously, only you had no idea what cipher he had used. You and Spencer had been working tirelessly for days to crack it while the rest of the team were searching for physical evidence, and it was a distraction you were grateful for. Even though you were working alone with him in close quarters, it was one of the few times you could briefly forget about your feelings, too consumed with your work to allow yourself to think about him.

It was night 3 of sleeping at the station. JJ had predicted it was going to happen, moving your go bags from the hotel to the precinct on the first day, and you and Spencer had been taking turns napping on the small couch whenever you physically couldn't keep your eyes open. You were sleep deprived and strung out, but you were close. You could feel it. You knew it wasn’t a shift cipher or some kind of alternate alphabet converted back and forth - you had exhausted every possibility of that days ago. You had been testing more complex ciphers, Garcia running everything imaginable through software to attempt to decipher it, but with no luck.

“What haven’t we tried?” Spencer muttered, pacing the room after a last ditch attempt at some kind of converted polybius square. Garcia was on speaker, confirming that she had tried every option available to her twice over.

“I mean, at this point, it could only be some kind of complex Vigenère cipher that somehow hasn’t been deciphered through Garcia’s software, or…” You didn’t even want to say the other option aloud - just the thought that three days work would’ve been completely wasted sent a shiver through your body.

“Or it’s a one-time pad.” Spencer said what you were too scared to, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

“A one-time pad? Is that the…”

“Unbreakable cipher. Yeah.” He confirmed.

“Unless…” A thought struck you, and you stood to the whiteboard you had set up in the room, scribbling down the ciphertext from the first body and converting it to numbers. “We need to think about this from the unsub’s point of view. He wouldn’t use a true OTP because if he truly wanted to hide this code, he wouldn’t carve it on his victims. But, the key might not be random.”

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been picked up on Garcia’s systems…”

“Not if each body had a different key….” You had written and converted the next two bodies’ codes while you were speaking, and you stood back briefly, showing Spencer what you had written. “We’ve been collating the messages and running them as a whole, but…do you see a pattern?” He paused, eyes scanning over the board frantically, and then he calmed visibly, a wave of realisation hitting his features. You smiled as he saw what you did, standing quickly and grabbing another pen to scrawl the keys beneath each.

“The Bible.” He whispered. “A Vigenère is hardest to break if the key is as long as the plaintext. Seven letters. Six letters. Nine letters. Genesis. Exodus. Leviticus.”

“It might work.” He nodded, brow furrowed in thought as he stared at the lettering.

“Let’s try it.” He wrote the corresponding letters as you did the sums, converting them back to the alphabet and - to your shock and relief - it was making sense.

P. L. E. A. S. E. H. …

E. L. P. M. E. I. …

C. A. N. T. S. T. O. P. J. …

“Garcia, can you read the last body please? The one we don’t have photos for yet…”

“No need.” Spencer muttered, writing it down without glancing up. You forgot how immaculate his memory was sometimes.

“Thank you.” It was seven letters. Perfect. You wrote numbers, he converted, you did the sum and muttered the letters aloud…

A. M. E. S. T. O. L.

“James. James ‘tol’? Is that a name, or the start of one?” Garcia asked over the speaker, but Spencer wasn’t listening, muttering to himself as he moved to the files quickly, flipping through them.

“No, I…” You answered for him, “I think Spence is onto something Pen…”

“Get Hotch on the line.” He barked, finding what he was looking for and bringing it to you.

“Hotch here…” A tired voice rung out in the small room just as you realised what Spencer was showing you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“It was David.” He breathed immediately, his words tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “The message on the bodies said something about James followed by T-O-L, and that reminded me of your interview…”

“David kept referring to a colleague throughout the interview, a James, that ordered him around a lot…”

“If he kills again, I bet the phrase would be completed. James told me to, maybe?” You mused, and Spencer nodded.

“Garcia, have you got his file.”

“Yes, I’m opening it now and… oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“He had a brother called James. Hung himself when David was 11.”

“And all of his victims died from strangulation.” The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

“Address?”

The unsub’s home had been closer to the hotel, so Hotch and the rest of the team went to his listed address, leaving you and Spencer to wait nervously in the precinct. You were pacing frantically, knotting your hands as the sound of your heavy boots echoed throughout the room. Spencer cooed your name calmly, and you turned to him, blushing lightly. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leant forwards with his arms on his knees looking up at you with… a look you’d never seen before. Concern mixed with something else, something foreign to you. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a kind smile.

“Just sit for a minute. Try and relax.” You nodded weakly, perching on the edge and trying to still your racing heart, leg bouncing and hands still twisting in each other with nervous energy.

“Sorry, I… I know we’ve done our bit now but I hate not being there when the team are apprehending him…”

“I know what you mean,” he muttered. You sat in silence for a few minutes, mind racing with what might be happening. What if he was armed? What if he’d decided to shoot his way out? They could all be dead right now, and you would have no idea….

Spencer’s phone rang. He stood, answering it quickly. It was Emily, and you heard him mutter a few affirmatives, smile playing across his features.

“Did they…” You asked as soon as he hung up, and he nodded.

“Yep, it went perfectly. He’s in custody, and they’re on their way back now.” The relief you felt was palpable, a sigh falling from you as he sat back down on the sofa next to you, sinking into it and resting his head back, mirroring your position.

You hadn’t realised your leg was still bouncing until his hand fell to it. Your breath caught in your throat as he squeezed lightly, stilling you effortlessly. He was so warm, slender fingers fanned out across the space just above your knee, and it took a moment for you to compose yourself. You turned your head, and he was already gazing at you, the mysterious expression from earlier back, his dark eyes meeting yours with warmth.

“You were incredible today…” He muttered, hand still resting on his leg, and you couldn’t help but blush. He was the most intelligent person you knew, and likely would ever know, and even without your feelings being involved, a complement from him was about the highest praise a person could get in your line of work.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without you…”

“Bullshit.” He whispered, and you laughed.

“Ok, maybe I could’ve, but it would’ve taken me twice as long.” He chuckled then, eyes scanning over your face with an intensity you only saw when he was trying to analyse something. It felt as though his eyes were boring into your skin, and you had to look away, heart near beating out of your chest. His hand shifted slightly on your leg, and oh sweet Jesus you just remembered it was still there. It had a strange affect on you - like when you put a harness on a cat and they suddenly couldn’t walk. You were frozen solid, trying to breath and staring at the ceiling.

Then his hand touched your chin. It was light, delicate, just guiding your eyes back to his and it wasn’t until that moment you finally realised what that look had been, the one you couldn’t identify. It was a reflection of what you had been feeling for months. The longing, the restraint, the need that swirled up inside you every time you stole a glance at him, and now, seeing those same emotions in his soft eyes, it was sobering. He wanted you too.

He moved first, gently pulling your lips to his and kissing you, light as a feather. It was tentative and sweet, so unsure and your body took a second to process that the thing you had been imagining for years was actually happening. And then you smiled, hands moving to the base of his neck, fingers twisting into his gorgeous hair and you pulled him back to you, lips clashing in a kiss full of years of pent up desire and desperation. You felt his body relax under your touch as the kiss deepened, his hands wandering to trail your waist and hips, before tangling in your hair and holding tight, pulling you closer. You had twisted until you were practically on his lap, hands falling to his shirt and bunching it up as his tongue finally hit yours, every bone in your body turning to jelly as you tasted him. It was magnetic, everything you had wanted for a long time finally coming to fruition and you couldn’t even break away for a second of air, so lost in him that breathing was no longer important.

And then the Precinct door banged open, and you jumped away as though you had been electrocuted. You laughed, cursing quietly as you tried to smooth your hair, tousled from his hands, while he just smiled, gazing at you.

“Spencer!” You whisper-shouted at him, still grinning uncontrollably, and he finally moved, straightening his shirt and placing his jacket over his lap. You giggled like a school girl, standing and moving to the whiteboard to try and convey a more believable working situation, and to put some distance between you and him, not sure how well you’d be able to hide your smile if he was so close to you.

You still jumped when Rossi opened the door to the room, although, you were more surprised when he didn’t speak. You turned to him, confused, and he pointed at Spencer. When you followed his eye line, you realised he was pretending to sleep, head slouched to one side and mouth slightly parted. He looked beautiful.

It had been six months, and you were stronger than ever. You honestly weren't sure how you were still keeping it a secret. You had had years of practice when you were just pining after him, sure, but it was a hell of a lot harder to not give anything away when every time you looked at him, you got flashbacks to the night before. Even if the team somehow did suss out a vibe, no one said anything, which was something you were grateful for. Spence was a lot better than you at masking his feelings, so anyone who noticed something probably assumed you just had a crush on him. Which was true enough.

You had managed to avoid looking at him the entire briefing, which was honestly a miracle, but your mind was ever so slightly distracted by your rendezvous in the copy room. As JJ spoke, you heard something about male victims, and she might have mentioned Tennessee, but all you could think about was that travel meant your date night plans were cancelled. And you were always cautious in hotels - too close to your other colleagues. It was hit or miss; sometimes, the fear of it was fun, the idea that someone could knock and catch you in the act, but if you had adjoining rooms with any of your teammates… well, them hearing you scream his name might just be a bit awkward. So, naturally, all you could think about now was finishing what you started earlier. You wanted this meeting to be over, to get him somewhere private and to let him completely wreck you before the long plane ride, to get this idea out of your head so you could focus on the case at hand. And then, at last, came the magic words…

“Wheels up in 20.”

The team dispersed quickly, and you caught Spencer’s sleeve just before he left the room.

“My car?” You muttered, earning a grin.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“Shut up.” You smiled. “I’ll meet you down there…”

“What’re you doing?” You practically whimpered, as he opened the passenger door instead of joining you in the backseat. He chuckled.

“Just making space.” You were about to ask what for, when he deftly moved the seat forwards, before getting in the back. Oh. You grinned as he pressed his lips to yours with hunger, backing you into the corner and you let yourself be dwarfed by him. His fingers trailed your collarbone, to your waist, and gripping onto your thigh with urgency. You whined as his lips left yours, earning another soft laugh. He managed to fit his tall frame mostly in the footwell, pushing your skirt up to your hips as you bit your lip, admiring him. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell over his face, his earnest eyes, almost pleading in the way he looked up at you, his long fingers that so deftly moved your panties to one side.

“Can you…” he muttered gesturing to his hair, and you giggled, hand running through the front locks and holding them away from his face. Your leg draped over his back as his head dipped, tongue going straight to your folds, lips circling your core and kissing your sensitive bud with a hum of contentment. Your body relaxed into him, moan escaping your lips. He’d always been enthusiastic about eating you out, and you’d never complained about it. He was good. Really good. And today was no different.

He was lapping you up, relishing every taste and you were getting closer to your orgasm with every circle around your clit, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Spence…” you managed to gasp out, writhing in the seat, “fingers…” He didn’t hesitate for a second, one of the hands firmly holding your thighs apart trailed down to your centre, two fingers slipping into your soaking core. Your groan was filthy as he found that spot that made your toes curl with such perfect precision it was blinding.

“Oh god Spencer…” you choked out between moans and pants… “baby I’m so close…” Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned into you, sending a wave of pleasure through you that sent you over the edge into that searing hot pleasure you were so used to receiving from him. He held onto you as you rode it out, his tongue still circling you until you were finished, finally stopping when you started to whine and squirm from overstimulation.

“Fucking hell, Spence.” You muttered, as he gently returned your panties and carefully let your skirt fall back around you. You watched in awe as he quickly licked his fingers clean, but it was mostly pointless, as his lips and chin were covered in your slick. You giggled.

“You might have to rinse your face before you join the team.” He grinned, pressing his lips to yours with force, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you hum into him.

“Now you will too.”

After a quick clean-up in the parking lot toilets, you both joined the rest of the team, entrances tactically staggered. For once, you couldn’t help but look at him, stealing glances as much as possible, watching as his hands scanned pages as he read and all you could think about is what those hands were doing to you just minutes earlier.

When you started looking into the case, you would be focussed, fully invested, but… you just wanted to stay in this headspace a moment longer. A happy one. A scary one still, for sure, but a fun kind of scary. A hopeful kind of scary. It was peaceful. And peaceful moments were rare in your line of work. His eyes caught yours, sending you a soft smile, and you knew you were in for the long haul, no matter how many people you had to lie or, or how much time you had to hide it for. It was all worth it for the moments of peace with him.

Taglist 🩵 - @emma-e-a

[tvgals]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ NO NUT NOVEMBER? I HARDLY KNOW HER!

awkward! gojo x black! boss! reader

— when staying after work during no nut november, awkward! gojo ends the month with a bang…

gojo was at his desk typing away at his computer, subconsciously ignoring the strain against his pants. gojo hadn’t touched himself in a month, him and a few of his friends doing a stupid ass nnn challenge. gojo was an idiot for accepting the challenge, knowing that almost everyday when he’d go home he’d stroke his dick to the thought of you, his boss. some days your tits would pop out of the top of your shirts, your ass poking out of the bottom of your skirts anytime you bent down to pick up a pen you dropped or a document, all the men in the office thirsted over your fat pussy lips on display.

“ah! hello satoru, what are you doing here so late?” you teasingly ask, walking up to him. “oh! i just-i just had to take care of some documents i forgot about!” gojo stammered, his eyes glued to his computer because he knows that if he looks up at you, his erection will be even more painful. “i see.” you nod, walking behind gojo, slowly trailing your acrylics along his shoulders, your tits pressing against the back of his head. “you’re doing such a good job.” you praise the ivory haired man, rubbing circles along his back. “thank you ma’am…” gojo sighs out, peering down at his dick, the blood flowing faster than ever.

“mhm. i’ll be in my office if you need anything, make sure to knock first.” you smirk, walking away. gojo heaved a sigh and slumped down in his seat, unzipping his pants. i mean, he could tug one right here and now. you were in your office, and gojo heard you locking the door. so if he were to get off to the thought of you in the office, you wouldn’t know. gojo unzipped his pants and shimmied them down a bit, his cock hitting just at his belly button with a thud. he groans, slapping a hand over his mouth with the other works at his cock. “shit shit shit.” gojo moaned, muffled by his hand. you were in your office scrolling away on instagram, your other hand digging around in a bag of chips. you decided it was time for gojo to head home for the night, he’d been working hard the whole week, it was only fair to give him a break.

you stood up and opened your door, your heels clacking against the tile floor. your face scrunched up in confusion as you heard meek moans and whines. you slowly converted into a smile, walking up to gojo as he stroked his dick even faster. “ah satoru, what am i going to do with you?” you tut mockingly, gojo immediately letting go of his dick and looking up at you with puppy eyes. “no no! it isn’t what it looks like, promise!” gojo cried out, trying to pull his pants back up. in a swift motion, you pull your leg up and pin gojo’s dick to his stomach with the toe of your heel. “oh shit!” gojo chokes out a strangled moan.

“now who do you think you are getting off in my office?” you snarl, putting more pressure onto his dick. “i’m sorry, ma’am! i just n-needed- i just needed relief!” gojo cried, fat tears streaming down his face. “my stupid little employee, what ever will i do with you?” you coo, retracting your foot from his dick. you hiked your skirt up and pulled your panties down, letting them fall to your ankles before stepping out of them. “w-what are you doing?..” gojo whispers, his eyes glued to your thighs. “teaching you a lesson. however will you learn to not touch yourself in my building?” you ask, unbuttoning your blouse to let your tits pop out freely. gojo’s breath starts to become more heavy and dense.

“i’m so- sorry! please ma’am, i’ll never come back!” gojo pleaded, his hands gripping at the handles of his chair. “oh no, you can stay as much as you want. it’s when you get too much free will, that’s my problem with you.” you say, staring into gojo’s eyes. you make your way in from of him, grasping his dick and slowly sinking down. gojo hisses and bucks his hips up involuntarily. “i’m sorry ma’am..” gojo whines, throwing his head back. you respond with a moan once you make it to the base. “feel so good already…” you laugh airily. gojo start breathing heavier and heavier, curling his toes in his work shoes. you open gojo’s computer and skim through a few documents, slowly rolling your hips onto his. “ah, satoru. these documents are all wrong!” you sigh out, now bouncing up and down onto his dick.

“‘m sorry, ma’am..i’m trying..” gojo whined, moving a hand to grab the fat of your hip. “apparently not hard enough.” you mumble to yourself, bringing gojo’s other hand that was grasping his chair to pinch your nipple. “doing so good f’me baby..” you mewl, trying to keep focused on the documents. “thank you so much..been thinking about this for years almost…all th-this time i’ve worked here…always had my..my eyes on you.” gojo admitted, you still bouncing on his cock. “you had all of these chances, satoru. what happened?” you ask, deleting all of gojo’s hard work. “was scared…i d-didn’t know how to talk to you…” gojo said, feeling his high approaching. you giggled to yourself, the gojo who barely talked to people at work and who often ate lunch alone in his car wanted you.

“i see..” you mumble, the feeling of satoru’s tip hitting your cervix becoming too much. “‘m gonna cum! please ma’am!” gojo practically screamed, arching his back. “give it to me, baby. cmon.” you coax gojo, feeling his hand move from your tit and to start vigorously rubbing your clit. you moaned out at the extra stimulation, feeling yourself let go. “shit- pl-please keep cumming..” gojo whined, slamming his cock upwards into you. gojo came with a whine, both of his hands gripping at your hips.

“g-good boy..” you praised gojo, loving the way his dick twitched inside of you. “t-thank you ma’am..” gojo cries out, feeling you stand up off of his dick. “don’t mention it.” you sigh out. “here, wear these tomorrow. i’ll check.” you demand, throwing your black lacy panties at him, walking back to your office. gojo nodded silently and turned back to his computer, his eyes widening at all the work that was lost by you. looks like he’ll have to stay later tomorrow.

TAGLIST —

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly @chinaza444 @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @yuckyygutz @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld

[misseviehyde]

BRAT PACK

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Mia Green was rich, pretty, popular and feared. She hadn't always been, but she was now and she had no intention of ever going back to her humble beginnings. From her expensive manicured fingernails, up to her perfect hair and down to her pedicured toes - she was every inch a bitch.

Bitches like her weren't supposed to end up with their hands and legs tied up in their own bedrooms after being ambushed by some fucking nobody nerd. This wasn't part of the plan.

"You ready to lose everything bitch?" smiled Violet as she watched Mia fight helplessly against the ropes keeping her tied. Pulling out a cigarette lighter, she clicked it to show the flame worked and with a satisfied smirk picked up an innocent looking hip pack from the bed.

She'd thought she'd be scared and terrified of this situation, but Violet was excited to finally get into the room of her hated enemy and destroy the source of her powers. Mia meanwhile was the terrifed one, she was about to lose EVERYTHING.

Violet brought the flame close to the hip pack. "Now we'll see what happens when I destroy this. Prepare to lose it all."

Violet and Mia had once been amazing friends - soulmates even - but then Mia had been corrupted and transformed into an evil, bullying, popular girl by the innocent looking hip back Violet now held.

The Brat Pack would corrupt you into a popilar girl then give it's wearer whatever they desired. Once buckled round your waist it would transform you and then the contents of the bag would always be exactly what you needed to become meaner, more spoiled and more evil.

For Mia that had been expensive makeup that had turned her even naughtier, a credit card that had made her rich, keys to a convertible... the Brat pack always gave her what she needed.

Some items from the pack were not even directly for her use, such as the extra large condoms that had transformed a boy in her year into a hunky black guy with a massive dick. She did so like a big cock in her tight pussy and corrupting other people had trned out to be fun too. Once the items had been used, reality would change to accomodate and over time Mia had warped the school to reflect her twisted whims.

Now Violet was going to destroy it all.

"Wait," she gasped - using her most commanding tone and causing Violet to stop inchs from burning the Brat Pack. "If you do that, I might die! You have to turn me back to normal first or the effect would be too much."

Violet peered at her suspiciously - but there was only pleading and fear in Mia's eyes. What was she up to?

Mia knew she had lost. What she was telling Violet was of course a lie. Destroying the Brat Pack would probably just turn everything back to normal and once it was done, there would never be any chance of being rich, pretty and popular ever again.

She didn't want to live in a world where there was no chance of ever getting this power back. She didn't want to see the Brat Pack destroyed. Her only chance now was to corrupt Violet. To trick her old friend into putting on the Brat Pack and becoming the new Alpha bitch.

It was gonna suck to lose all her power and watch Violet take her place, but maybe... maybe she could convince Violet to make her one of her clique. Once Violet was evil, she might reward Mia for helping her to ascend.

And maybe... one day when Violet's guard was down, Mia would get the Brat Pack back and become the top Alpha Bitch again.

It was better than watching this stupid goody goody destroy the Brat Pack entirely.

"You need to put it on, then inside you'll find a way to turn me back to normal. If you only wear it for a few moments, it won't have time to fully corrupt you - trust me. Why would I lie to you about this?"

Violet looked at her suspiciously, but also with a conflicted concern in her eyes.

"Please Violet, I don't want to die. Please help me, I want to be good again, I want to be your friend."

"Okay... I'll do it, just for a moment. But this better not be some sort of trick. There's no way out of this for you."

Putting down the lighter, she reluctantly took the Brat Pack, slid it around her waist and clicked it shut.

Pink magical flames burst into life around Violet. She gasped and groaned as the pack instantly transformed her physical body. "Ohhh fuckkkk that feel's mmmmh, so good!"

Violet's hands went to her chest and she moaned wetly as her once tiny non-existent tits ballooned out and her white blouse became a plunging white halter-top that showed off miles of her now smooth tanned flesh and rounded boobs.

Her top rose up, sitting just underneath her now jutting tits as bitchy manicured nails shot from her fingers and her hips pushed out to give her an even more feminine body shape.

Her once flat ass swelled and popped out as her jeans shrunk and transformed into a tiny plaid mini skirt that barely covered anything. Her glasses melted away as her face became even prettier and more feminine, coated in expensive makeup and with a perpetual smirk or pout depending on her mood.

Long silky hair swished effortlessly around her shoulders and Violet touched it in wonder. Every inch of her was now more feminine, more beautiful, more... perfect.

She felt full of confidence, arrogance, power. She felt like a spoiled bitch.

On the bed Mia had also changed.

The packs power had transfered fully over to Violet and now as she looked at the pathetic cringing nerd tied up in front of her, Violet couldn't help but feel her pretty lips twist into a sneer of contempt. What a fucking loser.

"Well, well, well," she heard herself say. "Looks like you're back to normal anyway Mia. Why the fuck did you have me put this on? Now I'm going to destroy it and you'll have lost everything."

"Why destroy it?" whimpered Mia. "You have the power now Violet. Doesn't it feel good? Look around. This room is yours now. The pictures have all changed to you and YOUR popular friends."

Violet looked round in amazement and saw Mia wasn't lying. There on a shelf of cheerleading trophies was a picture of the squad winning the best cheer award for the sixth year in a row - and in the front the head cheerleader was now Violet herself grinning and holding the trophy aloft.

"All this is yours now... Goddess," whimpered Mia pathetically.

Sliding her hands under her tits and causing them to push out more, Violet leaned over Mia and enjoyed the look of fear in the other girls eyes. "What did you call me maggot?"

"I called you Goddess, because you are one now. You have it all. My former beauty, my status, my wealth. That convertible outside on the drive is now YOUR car. Have a look inside the Brat Pack and see."

Violet suspiciously opened the pack and pulled out a driver I.D. "Car? But I don't even know how to drive. I..."

Violet had not learned to drive yet, but as she held the I.D in her hand she groaned and felt new knowledge and certainity flow into her. Of course she knew how to drive, of course she owned a convertible. She loved taking her squad shopping to the mall in it. She reached into the Brat pack and pulled out her keys. Yes - perfect. Violet looked down at the Brat Pack and a smiled flitted over her face. This thing would give her whatever she now desired. This was pretty fucking cool.

Mia watched quietly as she saw Violet's body language changing by the second. Her plan was working. Violet was accepting the evil and being corrupted. She now walked like an Alpha Bitch and was clearly enjoying the feeling of being hot and sexy. She just had to convince Violet to make her one of her squad.

"All this is yours Violet. The sexy clothes, the shoes, the hot lingerie. You're the Alpha Bitch now and I will willingly serve you and help you have more power. Make me one of your squad and I'll be your guide."

Violet looked at herself in the mirror. She looked so fucking beautiful and she felt so powerful. She was no longer a shy nerd, she was now a mean spoiled bitch.

She imagined being the centre of attention, having everything she wanted. She imagined being pampered and spoiled every day. She imagined a big black cock in her mouth, in her tight pussy.

"Noooo, what's happening to me? I have to resist. I have to take this pack off."

Violet realised she was losing herself. She had come here today to stop Mia and destroy this evil thing, she had to get it off and set things right. Her fingers went to the catch.

"NO! Don't do it Violet," urged Mia from the bed. "Let the evil flow into you. Let your soul turn black and every inch of you become a spoiled fucking brat. You'll love how it feels to be a bully, to have everyone obey you. That tight pussy of yours will feel so good wrapped tight around a pistoning black cock. You'll cum so hard you'll squirt. Don't you wanna know how that feels? Don't you wanna be a bad girl?"

"Noooo I'm good, I'm not like you," gasped Violet struggling to control herself.

"You're not good Violet, you're a fucking bitch. You're a cruel, jealous, spiteful little popular whore. Say it!" desperately urged Mia.

"I'm... I'm a little popular whore. I'm a fucking bitch," groaned Violet wetly as she began to touch her improved body. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes were bright. Her hands were now away from the brat pack on on herself.

"Yessss, I'm a fucking bitch. I love bullying others and being mean and evil. Ohhhh GOD! It feels so good to say it," laughed Violet throwing her head back.

"That's right," grinned Mia in glee. "You're going to be even more evil than I was. Just imagine all the naughty, cruel, depraved things you'll do as a popular bitch."

"Mmmmh, I don't HAVE to imagine. I can HAVE it all," Violet excitedly whispered. "Yessss, YES! This feels right, this feels good. I'm the Mistress of the Brat Pack now. This power is all mine."

Violet squeezed her tits and screamed pleasurably as she felt her pussy throb in response. Being mean, being bad turned her on. It made her fucking DRIP.

Turning on her heels, she strutted across the room and stretched her perfect body out, feeling the pull of her perfect young muscles. "I understand it now. I'm fucking perfect... I AM a Goddess."

In the space of a few minutes Violet had gone from an innocent girl into a mean, manipulative, spoiled brat. Dark and twisted thoughts flowed through her mind, turning her on and exciting her in equal measure.

The possibilities of the Brat Pack and the mean selfish things she could do with the power, were incredible. Her lips curved into a cruel dominant smile. She tossed her silky hair back and looked down at the nerd on the bed in front of her.

All that remained now was to decide what to do with this human garbage.

Violet looked down at Mia and now she could see the other girls thoughts written large on her face. Mia had a calculating look in her eyes, she obviously thought she was achieving some advantage by tricking Violet into wearing the pack and being corrupted.

God, this loser was so transparent it was almost painful.

"Haha, you fucking loser. I see your plan now. You wanted me to become corrupted so I would keep the Brat Pack and not destroy it. Perhaps you thought you might be able to one day get it back or perhaps I'd elevate you to serve as one of my clique as a reward. But I have a better idea."

Rummaging in her hip pack, Violet purred happily as a shiny male chastity cage came out alongside a padlock and a key on a necklace.

Sliding the key around her neck, she strutted over to the confused Mia.

"You know far too much about the Brat Pack and it's power Mia. I can't risk that you'll ever try to take it back. I can't suffer a rival. As Mia you are a threat - but as Mylon you'll be nothing more than my braindead little simp."

Pulling down Mia's jeans, Violet held the cage out expectantly in front of her friends pussy. Mia gasped in horror as with a strange tingling - her clit began to swell and grow and she groaned and shook as her body changed.

Her small boobs shrank away and her bones cracked and shifted. A tiny pathetic penis pushed out of her groin - and with a giggle of glee Violet snapped the cage around it and clicked the padlock in place.

Mia shook as the changes accelerated. Her mind went foggy and she tried to hold onto who she was and what had happened, but it was hopeless.

Groaning, Mylon opened his eyes and looked confusedly around the bedroom of his Goddess. His tiny caged dick was throbbing with urgency. How had he got here.

"Get on the floor and lick my boots loser," growled Violet and Mylon gulped and threw himself down. Licking and kissing Violet's purple boots he whimpered as she laughed at him.

"Oh my God, you're even more pathetic that I could have imagined. This is totally what you deserve. You can be my sad little simp - trapped permanently in chastity and the friend-zone, never knowing what you lost and what you once had."

Adjusting the pack around her waist, Violet unclipped it and walking to her wardrobe opened the door. At the back was a safe and she carefully put in a code and then locked the Brat Pack safely away where only she could use it.

The changes remained - unless someone else put on the pack, the power would remain hers. She was going to be a lot more careful not to lose it like Mia had.

"Stop grovelling and run home loser. I want all my homework done by the end of tonight."

Violet grinned as she watched her simp willingly comply with her orders. The thrill of power, the thrill of being a bitch. These things were new to her, but she couldn't wait to explore them further.

It felt so good to be a brat, and there was no going back.

Later that night as she sucked one giant blak cock and felt another go deeper and deeper inside her perfect pussy, she wondered if Mylon would even remember how good being a bitch had felt in his dreams.

She hoped so... but then again, who gave a fuck?

THE END

[charmandabear]

No Sandra Dee

Summary:

One quick little lie to your parents, and you and your hot vampire greaser boyfriend have the entire night to yourselves.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.3k

Tags/Warnings: reader is in high school but age isn't specified, reckless driving, 1950s greaser au, loss of virginity/innocence, vaginal fingering, piv sex, blood drinking, degredation if you squint, rough sex if you squint, praise kink if you squint, reader is a bit of a needy slut (affectionate)

I tell you the way this idea grabbed me by the collar and shoved me up against a locker and told me to give it my lunch money... I wrote it over the course of a few hours and it refused to let me go until I finished. I saw dovah_vakarian's Greaser Astarion and with some egging on from the lovely folks in the Rabid House server (join if you want a good hang) this little ditty was born. No thoughts, just greaser Astarion. (Dovah was kind enough to let me use their render for the cover photo are you SEEING IT? Are you KIDDING ME? Go give them a follow, right fucking now.)

Read on AO3

“Alright, Ma, Pa, I’m off to Suzie’s for the night!” Your heart is pounding in your ears as you shout the lie, and you can only hope it’s not in your voice, too. 

“Alright dear, have fun! Don’t forget to remind Mr. and Mrs. Johnson about the church potluck on Sunday!” your mother calls back, and without another word you slip out the front door and into the cool night air. You adjust your poodle skirt and bound down the front steps of your home, turning down the street where he’s waiting. He looks like an absolute treat, too, leaning against his shiny black convertible, the collar of his leather jacket popped, cigarette held delicately between long slender fingers. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of those fingers. You know better than anyone what they’re capable of.

“Darling,” he greets you with that adorable foreign lilt of his. You can already feel your cheeks beginning to flush as he looks you up and down, sizing you up like a piece of meat. “Ready to leave?”

You nod vigorously. “Ma and Pa think I’m at Suzie’s, and she has strict instructions for what to say if they call.” Your mouth grows dry at the sight of his devastating smile.

“That’s my girl,” he coos, running a knuckle down your jaw and under your chin. He takes one last drag off his cigarette and drops it, grinding it into the pavement with the heel of his boot. He breathes out the cloud of smoke that obscures his features, and you inhale instinctively. The acrid smell is one that you used to absolutely hate, but now that you’re starting to associate it with him, it sends a little thrill down your spine every time. He slides into the driver’s seat and you throw your overnight bag in the back. 

“So, Astarion, where are we going?” You try to keep your tone light, but the quaver in your voice gives away your nervous excitement. He slides his red eyes over to you and a mischievous smile plays on his lips as he revs up the t-bird’s loud engine.

“Can’t some things remain a surprise?” he says slyly, and the sultry tone of his voice makes you unconsciously lick your lips. You keep your hands in your lap as he fiddles with the radio, and soon the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole fill the car. 

It’s not long before he’s speeding down the highway, and you haven’t the faintest clue where he could possibly be taking you. He pulls out the cigarette from behind his ear and pops it into his mouth.

“Sweetheart, can you grab my lighter? It’s in the pocket of my jeans,” he mumbles around the cigarette, and you glance nervously at the tight denim on his hips.

“Um, sure, just keep your eyes on the road,” you say automatically, feeling like you could kick yourself for sounding like such a square. But he just chuckles as you lean over and wiggle your fingers into his pocket. You can smell his cologne from here, a heady spiced smell that makes your chest ache. After a bit of struggling, you pull the zippo out from his pocket and flip it open for him to light his cigarette. You assume he’s going to let you bring the flame to him, but instead he fully turns his head toward you, red eyes boring into yours as you light it. 

“Astarion, careful,” you hiss nervously, your fingers shaking as you try to light the cigarette as quickly as possible. There isn’t another car in sight, but you’ve heard too many stories of reckless joyrides turning fatal.

He takes a puff and laughs, a cool, velvety sound. Your eyes trace his profile, his perfect nose and jawline, and the two small puncture wounds on his neck. You’ve fooled around with him a bit before, but you’ve never gone all the way. And you’ve always been morbidly curious about what it would be like for him to bite you. His eyes flick towards you and you flush, feeling like you’ve been caught. 

“Someone is having naughty thoughts,” he sings, and a timid giggle bubbles out of your lips. 

“What?” you squeak, and then clear your throat to try to sound more cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so?” He takes a hand off the steering wheel and gently runs his fingers down the side of your neck, and you can’t suppress the moan his touch elicits. “So you’re not thinking about…” His hand continues its journey downward and stops right at your breast, fondling lightly over your sweater. You bite your lip as he squeezes the flesh, and even through the two layers of wool and satin, your nipples grow stiff with arousal. He pinches it between his fingers and you need to press your thighs together. You can already feel the cotton gusset of your panties growing wet, and with his heightened sense of smell, he knows it, too. 

“A-Astarion, eyes on the r-road,” you stammer, but he just grins wickedly before pressing his foot down on the gas, inching up dangerously over the speed limit. 

“Darling, I promise I won’t take my eyes off the road for a second,” he says with a wicked grin, lit cigarette bouncing with every word. He keeps his promise, but his hand continues to wander southward, brushing against your thigh. You squirm and whimper, simultaneously desperate for his touch and wanting him to stop. You wrestle with your conflicting desires for a moment, before temptation wins and you let your knees fall open for him. “Such a good girl for me,” he purrs as he pulls up the hem of your skirt, and even you can smell the debauchery wafting from between your legs. 

“Just please,” you whine as his fingers skate across your inner thigh, teasing you mercilessly.

“Please what, darling?” His voice is infuriatingly innocent while he’s making the dirtiest thoughts run through your mind.

“Please be careful,” you plead, your hips bucking forward to chase his touch. He steps on the gas again, increasing the speed even more. Your heart begins to pound loudly, and you can’t tell if it’s from hurtling down the highway or his fingers dancing just outside your panties.

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I can do both,” he pouts as the pad of his thumb runs up the length of your slit, and you grip the bar on the door as a moan escapes your lips. He begins to retract his hand and slows the car down slightly, causing you to whine instinctually in protest. “So love, which will it be?”

You stare in horror at your beautiful vampire boyfriend’s face. He doesn’t have the same stakes as you, he’d be able to walk away from a car wreck just fine, but you, not so much. But your cunt is aching from his relentless teasing, and your judgment is clouded with lust.

“Just… quickly, please,” you whine, and his lips stretch wide into a satisfied grin. He slams his foot down on the gas pedal as his fingers return to your soaked panties, tearing an unseemly groan from your throat. He pushes the gusset aside and slides his fingers along your slick folds as you grip the seat. You have no idea if your primary emotion is fear or arousal, but either way it's exhilarating.

“So wet, you dirty girl,” he tuts, and you can only cant your hips into his hand in response. “If only Ma and Pa could see their darling daughter now.” He inserts a slender digit and you push a saddle shoe against the dashboard to brace yourself.

“Ah- ‘starion,” you moan, your knuckles beginning to turn white from how hard you're clutching the leather seat. He pumps his finger lazily, still looking at the dark road ahead as it flies by. 

“What would Pastor Tom say if he knew you were getting fingered by your greaser boyfriend in the front seat of his t-bird.” He punctuates the filthy statement by inserting another digit, and you squirm into his hand needily. “Such a perfect little slut for me.” He curls his fingers and palms your clit, and you rock back and forth in the seat trying to push yourself down on him deeper.

“Please, ‘starion, I need more,” you pant and you catch the speedometer breaching 100 mph as he increases the pace of his fingers. He uses the heel of his hand to rub against your clit and you can feel your orgasm building deep in your core. “Yes, please, just like that.”

“My filthy girl, so good for me,” he praises you as you whimper and moan, and you grip his wrist to control his touch. You buck desperately against him, and your hand not holding his begins to pinch and fondle your breast, chasing your pleasure. “You hungry little slut, you can’t get enough, can you?”

You’re so close, and through your half-lidded eyes you see Astarion take his other hand off the steering wheel to take a drag on his cigarette. You cry out in both horror and pleasure as you crash over the edge, fucking yourself on his hand and gripping the back of the seat. Ripples of pleasure reverberate through your body offset by your heart pounding in fear. As the waves subside, Astarion pulls his fingers out and you can feel the car slowing. You’re still breathing heavily as he pulls off at an exit, driving deeper into the woods. 

As soon as the car rolls to a stop, he growls, “Get out,” as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray. You scramble out of the car and before you can get your bearings he’s got you pushed up against the trunk of the car, kissing you forcefully. You paw wantonly at his neck, just barely keeping up.

“Please, defile me,” you groan as he pushes his bulge into your mound. You slide your fingers into his curls and guide his mouth towards your neck. “Bite me, Astarion.”

“What a disappointment you are to your parents,” he grunts into your ear before sinking his fangs into your jugular. The pain is exactly as exquisite as you had imagined, like icy shards that melt into a warm serenity. He takes deep gulps of your blood, and with each swig his erection grows harder against you. You grind into him, desperate to know what it’s like to feel him inside you.

He pulls away from your neck all too soon, but it’s worth it to see him panting, hair disheveled, and a monstrous bloody grin on his face. “Turn around,” he snarls, but before you can comply he’s grabbed you roughly by the waist and done it for you. He bends you over the trunk and rucks your poodle skirt up to your waist. It doesn’t take him long to pull himself out of his jeans, his cock hard and glistening. You try to turn around to see it but he grabs a hold of your ponytail, keeping your head firmly forward. 

“P-please, Astarion, I need it,” you beg, standing on your toes as you present your throbbing cunt to him. He pushes your panties to the side and aligns himself with your entrance, teasing it lightly with the head of his cock.

“Their perfect little cheerleader with the perfect grades,” he growls and you can only mewl helplessly in response. He pushes into you and you both groan, the sound mixing amongst the ambience of the forest. “You’re all mine, now,” he hisses as he bottoms out, and you claw at the shiny surface of his car. He shoves your face against the cold metal and begins to thrust into you. You cry out with every stretch, the mixture of pain and pleasure becoming quickly overwhelming. 

“Harder, Astarion,” you grunt and he yanks your ponytail back further, stretching out your neck and forcing you to look at him above and behind you. He obliges your request, pounding you into the car forcefully. His face contorts with pleasure as he slides in and out of your tight cunt, and you can already feel yourself building up to a second orgasm. You push yourself back into him, desperate to feel more, when suddenly he pulls out and you whimper from sudden emptiness. But before you can protest, he forcefully turns you around again and shoves himself back into you.

“I want to see your face when I make you cum,” he growls, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him in closer. You grab onto the back of his leather jacket as he fucks you mercilessly against the back of his car. 

“Please, Astarion,” you whimper, each thrust of his cock pushing your breath out of you. “Please don’t stop.” His rutting hips begin to grow uneven, he pounds into you a few more times before you feel the pulsing of his cock against your walls. His face in the throws of passion, his mouth still slightly bloody and his hair falling into his eyes are enough to set off your second climax. You don’t hold anything back, your cries mixed with swears and his name repeated over and over echoing off the trees.

You cling to the back of his neck as you both slow, taking your time to regain control over your breathing. Eventually he pulls out and sets you back down onto your feet. Your legs quake and he laughs as you need to grab his arms to stay steady.

“You said you wanted to be defiled,” he concedes, and you pull him into a comparatively chaste kiss.

“My parents don’t expect me home until morning,” you hum against his lips, “and I can think of a few more ways to defile me until then.”

[trickphotography2]

Overtime

It was just supposed to be a football game. But then Hangman took Syla up on her invitation to watch the Blue Angels perform at the Miramar air show. A month after meeting and facing the last home show of her career, the history making Naval Aviator invited Hangman to visit her in Pensacola. She didn't actually expect him to accept. Payback definitely wasn't happy.

A continuation of First and Goal. This got away from me at 5.1K words. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Cross-posted on Ao3.

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

The humidity hit Jake in the face as he exited the Pensacola airport. His eyes darted up and then to the line of cars. “I’m under the Delta sign.”

“Okay, I’m pulling out of the cellphone lot,” Syla said. He heard her humming and felt his lip twitch. Over the month they’d been talking, he’d heard it many, many times, usually when she was focused on something. Once, when they’d done a video call while she was in Oregon, he’d asked her if she hummed while flying and was promptly flipped off. “I...think I see you.” The call disconnected as a blue convertible Mini Cooper stopped in front of him. Payback scowled, elbowing him out of the way as Syla got out and circled the car. 

“Reuben!” she squealed. Jake rolled his eyes, grabbing the other man’s bag as he hugged Syla, lifting her off her feet. Payback hadn’t been thrilled to find out he wasn’t the only one who had requested leave to head down to Florida for the Blue Angels homecoming show. Hell, Syla had been surprised when Jake had quickly accepted her half-joking invitation.

Jake had gone to the show in Miramar. It was his first time seeing them since their flyover at his Academy graduation, which he’d only half paid attention to back then. The Blue Angels were good PR for the Navy but had never caught his attention - pilots stuck repeating the same maneuvers every time? Sounded almost as bad as being assigned to desk duty. He'd take dog fighting every time if given the choice between it and the flying equivalent of synchronized swimming. But, after going through flight school and some experience with formation flying, he had a new respect for the Angels. 

The way Syla filled out her tight blue flight suit definitely didn’t hurt matters. Jake had managed to get close enough to watch the team march in a line to their jets and climb in, trading out their caps for helmets before taxiing and taking off in formation. For an hour, he watched them execute loops, inversions, pitches, and breaks. After the show, he’d joined the queue for her autograph and grinned at her surprised look. As she signed the team picture, he asked her about not wearing a g-suit that helped keep blood from pooling in the lower extremities and forced it toward the brain. From his estimation, they were pulling at least 7Gs at points.

“Can’t,” Syla had shrugged. “We have our right arm on our thigh for stability and to help with the 40-pound spring tensioned on the stick. Air bladders would inflate at the worst time and ruin the maneuver. ‘Sides, since we fly it constantly, we know when to tense to avoid G-LOC.” Sliding her aviators down her nose, the Blue Angel smirked and slid the picture across the table to him. “Good to see you again, Hangman.” 

Her phone number was under her loopy signature. 

“Hey,” Jake said when she turned her attention to him, eyebrow raised over her sunglasses. Crossing her arms over her chest, forcing her breasts higher into the tank top she wore, Syla cocked her hip. 

“I have so many questions. First - what the hell is with the pornstache?” Grinning, Jake ran a hand over his mustache. 

“Don’t like it?”

“You look like the other guy in your squad… um…” she snapped her fingers, glancing at Payback.

“Rooster.”

“Rooster! That’s right. He can pull off a mustache.”

“I make a mustache look good,” he chuckled, dropping the bags into the open trunk. Shaking her head, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Jury’s out. Also, people are gonna think you’re a Gator or Canes fan in that orange.”

“Hook ‘em, baby.” Over her head, Jake caught Payback’s eye roll.

“Alright,” Syla said, stepping out of his loose embrace and slamming the trunk closed. “Get in so we can go grab dinner. I’m starving.” 

“Please tell me we’re getting some seafood,” Payback moaned, beelining for the front seat. Jake rolled his eyes, following Syla around the car and pulling open the door for her before ducking into the back seat. His knees pressed into her seat, and he shifted to try and get more comfortable. 

The two aviators chatted while Syla pulled out of the airport and drove through Pensacola. It had been years since Jake had been back. Like many Naval aviators, his career had begun at a local flight school while stationed at NAS Whiting Field, just across the bridge and a couple of miles down I-10 in Milton. While he’d enjoyed his time at Annapolis during the Academy, it had been fun to cut loose and spend weekends on the white sand beaches, flirting with tourists and drinking at dive bars. But after he’d moved on to Intermediate Flight Training, he’d never looked back. North Florida had little appeal for him. If he had to be stationed in the state, he would go for the Keys.

“You good back there, Hangman?” Syla asked, pulling him from his musing. She’d twisted in her seat, strands of hair that had escaped her regulation bun framing her face.

“All good, just looking at how much it’s changed.” She smiled, turning back around when the light turned green.

After grabbing dinner by the beach at a local spot called The Oar House, the trio made their way to Syla’s place. It was a cute little white house with a red - “garnet,” she’d corrected - door. As another condition of his coming, Payback claimed the one guest bedroom while Jake was relegated to the couch. 

It helped to know that Payback only had the bed for one night and would join him in sleeping in the living room when Syla’s parents arrived the next day. 

So, while Payback went to bed early to call his kid, Jake and Syla hung out. At first, there had been some initial awkwardness, trying to navigate a friendship conducted mainly over the phone. It didn’t take long until Jake found himself itching to tuck her hair, free from the tight bun and damp from her shower, behind her ear. 

“Okay, I have to know,” she said, setting her glass on the coffee table before facing him. Propping her elbow against the back of the couch, she buried a hand in her hair and smirked. “What’s with the mustache? You weren’t deployed, so it’s not a deployment ‘stache. Or is this like a normal thing for you?”

“Definitely not a normal thing for me,” he chuckled, setting his beer on the coffee table and turning to mirror her. At her cocked eyebrow, he shrugged. “Payback.” 

“Are we talking Reuben or revenge for something?”

“A bit of both. He’s real protective of you and wasn’t happy to hear that we’ve been talking. Or that I was coming here.”

“Oh god, are you telling me you look like that because of me?” She let her head fall back at his shrug while taking a deep breath. The move pulled her sleep shirt tight against her chest, and he could see her pebbled nipples through the material. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“It’s fine.” And it was. It was worth it if this was the penalty for violating the bro code - as the rest of the Daggers had ruled when they found out about his contact with Syla. 

“Your pretty face shouldn’t be sacrificed for his petty male ego.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” Jake teased. Syla lowered her head and gave him an unimpressed look. With a huff, she ran her thumb over his mustache. 

“When you don’t have a fuzzy caterpillar on your face.” Amusement sparkled in his green eyes when Syla raised hers from his mouth to meet his. Her fingers rasped on his stubble as they glided across his jaw. Jake watched, biting back a groan when she played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Gentle pressure guided him closer as her tongue darted to wet her lips. A smirk curved his mouth as his gaze narrowed to hers. 

A throat cleared, and Syla jumped, her hand falling to her lap. Payback stood beside the television, arms crossed over his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” Syla replied, even as pink dusted her cheeks. Payback’s eyes darted to Jake, who shrugged. “Oh no - this is not… If you have a problem with me talking to Jake, you’ll talk to me about it, Reuben.” 

“Okay. I don’t like it. You don’t know Hangman.” 

“Cool. Good to know. That’s part of why we’re talking - to get to know one another.” He groaned her name, running a hand down his face. 

“He’s got a reputation in Miramar.” Jake flushed with embarrassment. Sure, he enjoyed a one-night stand, but he hadn’t had one in a while. Definitely not since he’d started talking to the pilot beside him.

“So you’re telling me he knows what he’s doing and can probably find the clit. That’s great to know.” Both men sputtered, and Syla laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, Payback, I’m not the 22-year-old girl you met. And as much as I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m a pretty good judge of character. So if I want to talk to Jake, kiss him, and maybe have sex, that’s our decision.” Patting Jake’s shoulder, she stood and gave Payback a sweet smile. “And with that, gentlemen, I’m going to go to bed since I have work in the morning. You know, where I’m a history-making Naval aviator whose judgment is tested and proven every day that I’m in the air flying inches away from other aviators, where one small deviation could mean death for either of us. Night boys.”

The two men watched Syla walk to the hallway, pausing to pat Payback’s chest and closing her bedroom door. 

Jake fell a little bit in love.

“Morning,” Jake said, his voice rough with sleep. Syla smiled and waved, continuing towards the kitchen where the coffee pot gurgled. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he joined her, taking the mug she slid across the counter and leaning against the stove, scratching his bare chest. 

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Not the worst place I’ve bunked.”

“It’s a step above the carrier.” He smiled over the rim of his mug. He’d never dated a woman in the military and never would have even thought about pursuing another aviator. Sure, he enjoyed flirting with Phoenix to get a rise out of her, but their careers overlapped too much for him to ever think about pursuing anything. Plus, Rooster would kill him if he ever worked up the nerve to admit his feelings about his “best friend.”

But there was something comforting about talking with Syla. Over the last month, he’d enjoyed not having to explain things in his daily life. No explanation was needed when he rescheduled calls because he was doing late maneuvers. Honestly, she was the one doing the rescheduling more often than not. She was also the one who fell asleep when they were on the phone. He’d never admit it, but Jake usually stayed on the line for a few more minutes, listening to her soft breathing and half-heartedly hoping she’d wake before hanging up. 

“What’s your day look like?” he asked. Syla frowned and stepped past him to look at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator. 

“We’re briefing the show this morning and then going to a middle school. Not sure if we’re doing the interview there or if the camera crew is just getting footage. Then final dress rehearsal over the Gulf.” There was something sad in her eyes when she turned to meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“I just…” To his surprise, tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. “Sorry, just kinda hitting me that this is it.” Setting his mug down, he opened his arms. Syla rested her head on his shoulder, palms flat on his chest. Jake's hand ran up the back of her flight suit, tugging her closer as he brushed his lips against her temple. When she lifted her head, he kissed her cheek. But when he tried to do it again, she turned to meet him.

Their first kiss was a sweet one. Syla’s hands drifted up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck and tug him down as she surged onto her toes. He steadied her with hands on her hips, gripping the blue fabric tightly as she licked into his mouth. A groan escaped him as she smiled. The mustache prickled against her skin. 

“It’s too early for this.” 

“Morning, Reuben,” Syla sighed, dropping back onto her heels and resting her forehead against Jake’s chin. Slowly, she pulled away and looked at her friend. “Sleep well?”

“Other than a nightmare, yeah.” Chuckling, she stepped out of Jake’s arms and grabbed her travel coffee mug. 

“Duke is gonna pick me up so you can have my car for the day. I’ll be home around 5:30 or 6:00. My parent should be here around that time, too, so we’ll go out for dinner. I have to have an early night for the show tomorrow, but we can take two cars so you can have fun downtown.” The flight leader was happy to help her with a ride, seeing as he lived down the street. 

“An early night sounds good to me,” Jake nodded. 

“Great. Duke’s pulling up, so I’m headed out.” With a quick peck to both men’s cheeks, she left.

“You’re an ass,” Payback grumbled while opening the cabinets for a mug. Ignoring him, Jake returned to the couch and grabbed his cell phone, quickly pulling up their text thread.

Can confirm I know where the clit is

A few minutes later came her reply.

Seeing is believing

Syla woke early and pulled on her running gear. It was hard to sneak out of the house with the two aviators crashing in the living room, but she managed it. After slipping her earbuds in, she started her pre-show tradition of a five-mile run while mentally practicing the flight maneuvers. Hands clenched in front of her, she imagined Duke’s voice and positioned the stick and throttle. Deployed the smoke that allowed the crowd to follow them as they climbed. She would have the privilege of a sneak attack on the beach, buzzing the crowd who watched her wingmen fly ahead. 

Even after three seasons, every show made her nervous. And performing in front of the hometown crowd, while amazing, brought its own level of pressure. North Florida was the home to a huge military population. These people saw them the most - they practiced over the Naval Aviation Museum twice weekly and signed autographs. Hell, there was a sign as you got into town that said ‘Home of the Blue Angels.’ Pensacola had the Blue Angels, Corry Station, and Whiting Field, where many aviation careers started. The Air Force had three bases just an hour up the road - Hurlburt Field, Duke Field, and Eglin. Eglin had its own place in military aviation history, as it was where the pilots of the Doolittle Raid - the US’s retaliation on Japan following Pearl Harbor, where modified bombers had launched from the USS Hornet with no fighters as backup - had trained. The Air Force had their own fighter and test wings stationed there, and the Army was training special forces.

Further out were the two bases in Panama City - the Naval Support Activity Panama City and Tyndall Air Force Base, which housed their own fighter wing. That wasn’t even considering all of the veterans in the area. Syla had briefly dated someone who worked for the Veteran’s Administration, who had told her that the Gulf Coast was one of the fastest-growing areas for vets. 

So yeah, hometown shows made her nervous. And her dumb ass had invited a certain Lieutenant, who made her even more nervous. Who she outranked. As a Lieutenant Commander, she was responsible for ensuring they didn’t break any fraternization rules. And even though Jake wouldn’t be under her command - the Daggers were stationed at Miramar under TOPGUN but were not instructors - they might still get some looks.

Which was presuming that Jake even wanted something other than a fling. Panting, Syla stopped running and bent, wiping away the sweat on her brow. Even this early, the humidity was killer. “Fucking focus,” she ordered herself. 

There was nothing like an airshow. From the moment Syla stepped onto the tarmac, the energy was electric. For her last home show, they’d picked the theme of Celebrating Women in Aviation, focusing on the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS) that began in WWII when the US needed pilots. Women could join the military to ferry, test, and deliver planes for repair. 

From the civilian aerobatic pilots to the Air Force’s Viper and F-35 demo teams and the explosive Tora Tora Tora reenactment, there was something for everyone. She joined her parents, Reuben, and Jake after the Angels’ morning briefing. While her parents and Reuben stayed in the tent, she and Jake did a quick walk around, pausing so she could sign autographs and take pictures. She was glad her sunglasses were on when a little girl traced over her embroidered wings and said she wanted to be a pilot, too. Jake’s fingers brushed hers as they walked, and she fought a smile. 

And then it was show time. Syla forced herself to focus on the moment. Doing anything else would endanger the team and her aircraft. So, she focused on saluting her flight crew and doing her checks. She wasn’t part of the diamond take-off formation but would be doing a high G vertical climb into an inversion. And then she thought about Duke’s final order - “Have fun.” 

So she did. She allowed herself to smile as she fought against gravity, admired the beautiful ocean she flew over, and laughed at the startled crowd as she executed the sneak pass. 

And yes, she did hum while doing it. 

Sunday was harder. Syla woke up early for her run and was surprised to find Jake awake in the kitchen, shirtless and wearing running shorts and sneakers. He joined her, her extra reflective belt wrapped around his bicep. It was still dark, their way lit by streetlights and the occasional passing car. Jake glanced over as she ran through the show, hands at her stomach moving the imaginary stick and throttle. 

Everything for her last show needed to be perfect. 

“You’ve got this,” he said when they turned back into her cul de sac. Feeling like a teenager sneaking around, she tugged him around the side of the house and pressed him against the siding. His hands wrapped around her hips, holding her tightly as her hands slid up his sweat-slicked skin to wrap around the back of his neck. It was still dark out, the sun not due to rise for another hour. If her neighbors looked out the glass door in their living room or someone drove past, they would easily be spotted. But that didn’t stop her from pressing against him, feeling his heat through her sports bra and running shorts. 

Jake pressed teasing kisses to her forehead, nose, and cheek before Syla gripped his hair and kissed him hard. His hand slid to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer. She could feel his cock through his jogging shorts and dug her nails into his skin to keep from touching him. Nothing in the world would make her jeopardize her career with a public indecency charge. 

When his attention shifted to her neck, licking the salt from her skin, Syla forced herself to push against his shoulders and step back. His grip tightened, not letting her go too far. “Everything okay?” he asked. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his confused expression. 

“I need to know,” she said, biting her kiss-swollen lower lip. “I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but am I pissing off one of my best friends for a fling?”

“A fling?” 

“I outrank you, Jake. If there’s blowback, it’s gonna come back on me. Not only because of rank but because I’m a woman. I will always have Blue Angels in my bio, so I will always be held to the highest standard. So I have to know - is this just having fun? Or is this something we want to pursue? Because I’m fine either - ”

Jake’s lips silenced her, his tongue insistently licking into her mouth as he turned them to pin her against the siding with his hips. With his hands braced by her head, he pulled away, smirking when she chased his kiss. One knuckle traced from her temple and swept across her jaw before tilting her head up as he tutted her name. “You think I’d risk pissing off my entire squad for a fling? If I wanted that, I would have just waited for you to get to Miramar instead of coming out here, annoying Payback, and meeting your parents. This is my first vacation in years, and I wanted to spend time alone with you. If you want this to be a fling - ”

“I don’t.” 

“Good. Cause I don’t either.” They stood there, smiling at one another for a long moment until they heard a dog bark. Shoving him away, Syla turned and waved at her neighbor as he stepped out of the house across the street, dressed for his own morning run. Taking Jake’s hand, she tugged him back towards the front door, enjoying how he pressed himself against her back as she unlocked it. “Just wait until we’re alone, and I’ll show you just how well I can find your clit,” he growled in her ear as she gripped the doorknob.

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Did you tell Reuben that you were staying for a week? Or does he think you’re flying out tonight, too?”

“Now, where would the fun be in telling him?” Jake asked. Syla laughed, turning in his embrace to pat his cheek. 

“It’s your funeral, Hangman.” His grin was blinding as he leaned down to kiss her.

“What a hell of a reason to go.”

Emotion nearly choked her as Syla drove down Blue Angel Parkway toward the base. She’d left her parents to drive the other aviators in, wanting some time alone that morning. The squad had invited her guests to watch the last briefing of the season so they wouldn’t be too far behind. Reuben or Jake would be able to get her parents on base. While the air show gates didn’t open until 8:00AM, a few cars were already waiting at the Visitor Control building’s parking lot. After flashing her ID to the gate guard, she made her way to the hanger to quickly inspect her plane. Their flight mechanics were among the best in the world, and Syla trusted them with her life, but you could never be too careful. Once assured that everything was fine, she made her way to the briefing room, pausing to talk to some of the other early birds and to grab a shitty cup of coffee from the break room. Rather than take her seat, she took the opportunity to read the plaques that decorated the walls, running her finger over her name engraved on the list of pilots. 

“Big day, Syla. You ready for it?” Duke asked, coming into the briefing room and standing beside her. She glanced up at him and rolled her lips together, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. 

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied hoarsely. 

“One more flight, and then you’re back in the greens,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. 

“I look so much better in blue,” she smirked, glancing down at her flight suit. After three years, going back to a green suit that didn’t have her name and plane number embroidered on her chest, that had a different squadron patch, would be strange. This wasn’t the first time she’d left a squad, but it definitely was the hardest. Their team, from the flight and ground crew to the Marine pilots that flew Fat Albert, the C-130J that carried the crew show to show, spent so much time together. From January to November, they saw each other every day - on Thursdays, they flew out to the show location and returned to Pensacola on Mondays; Tuesdays and Wednesdays were practice days. For three years, Syla had celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, and graduations with these folks. She’d babysat for their kids and hung out at their houses. They had gotten her drunk to celebrate her promotion before dragging her to the beach and tossing her into the Gulf in her whites - she made sure that they also got drenched - and teased her relentlessly whenever she dated someone. 

The other squad members slowly filed in, and Syla was subjected to brotherly teasing. When her guests arrived, she introduced Jake and Reuben by their callsigns. The looks her squad sent her when Hangman shook their hands were priceless - they’d seen his name pop up on her phone more than a few times. The corner of Jake’s eye twitched at every shake, making her wonder if they were squeezing his hand harder than necessary. Payback looked happy at the cooler welcome the other pilot got. 

“Alright,” the flight leader said once everyone had taken their seat around the table, him at the head. Crew and her guests sat along the wall. “We’ll leave the sentimental stuff for the boat party later, but as you all know, this is Syla’s last flight with us. And while we’re excited to welcome Lieutenant Commander Reyes in a few months, she will have big shoes to fill. So we’ll be perfect today, not only for Syla but for our hometown crowd. I want the debrief to be short this afternoon so we can go celebrate another successful season and get some downtime. Now, conditions today allow for the high show…” Syla opened her folder and retrieved the aerial map of Pensacola as he read out the wind and view data. The tip of her pen traced the maneuvers they would go through, as he called them.

She could feel eyes on her as they pushed away from the table and did a chair flight, Duke’s comforting cadence helping her block out everything else. Her own eyes remained closed as they talked through the flight, visualizing and practicing the throttles and stick positions, where they would have pull on the stick, tensing to fight the Gs, her calls on the radio, turning to check the alignment of their synchronized ascent into the loop, deploying smoke - every second of the 45-minute show.  

And when she opened her eyes, they caught on a pair of green ones that stared at her from across the room. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as he gave a curt nod. Beside him, her parents beamed. Payback sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and grinned. 

Syla couldn’t help the tears that fell as she taxied back into position. Even over her engine, she could hear the crowd cheering as they announced her name and thanked her for her years of flying with the Blues. As the canopy rose, she swiped at her face and took a deep breath. 

It was over. 

After three years, she was now returning to the fleet. She would be assigned a new Super Hornet, grey instead of bright blue, with her name and callsign painted below the canopy. The next few months would be spent reviewing tactical and weapons updates, and she’d have a few weeks to refresh her air combat skills before taking on her first TOPGUN class. She was pretty sure that she'd spend some time with the meatball, the machine that helped baby aviators learn the dimensions of the ship's flight line; she felt rusty even with over 600 carrier landings under her belt. 

Thankfully, she was sure there was an active-duty pilot who would be more than happy to help her study.

“You good?” Syla looked up at her crew chief and nodded at the woman. Quickly, she handed over the helmet, realizing it would be one of the last times she wore it. Soon, she would be back in her garnet one with gold arrows - her nod to her alma mater. After smoothing down her hair, she put her cover back on and prepared to exit the cockpit. 

Three years. Over 900 days on the road. Hundreds of hours in the air. 

It was over.

A Week Later

Fanboy glanced at his phone, frowning at the text from Hangman. The Miami game was on a commercial break, so he quickly opened it and saw it was a video. 

He recognized the place immediately - Florida State’s football stadium. Doak Campbell. Fucking Hangman was at the Miami-FSU game. Hangman panned the camera around the stadium, and Fanboy realized he was standing on the field. In the endzone. The announcer’s voice was a bit muffled but became clearer as Hangman refocused the camera on Syla. 

“Callsign Syla made history as the first female aviator on the Blue Angels, carrying on the proud FSU tradition of excellence. Let’s give a loud welcome home to Syla!”

The crowd roared, chants of “USA” echoing as Syla held up her hands and waved before doing the tomahawk chop. In the background, he saw that she was being broadcast on the jumbotron. As it cut away, she held her hands up again. She brought her thumbs together to form the University of Miami ‘U’ symbol before dropping all but her middle fingers. The student section started a chant of ‘Fuck U’ as she laughed. 

“Fuck Miami!” Syla grinned. 

“Fuck Miami!” Hangman echoed, swinging the camera around to show himself flipping off the camera, that god-awful mustache still on his face. For once, he wasn’t wearing Texas gear but had swapped it out for a Seminoles cap and t-shirt. 

Oh, Fanboy thought. He was definitely gonna have to deal with way more bro code violations once he got back. Especially after he forgot to turn off the recording before kissing Syla. 

Fanboy debated forwarding it to the group chat but decided against it. Having a bit of blackmail was never a bad thing.

The group chat started popping off in the 4th quarter. 

What the fuck is this? Payback fired off, sharing a picture of Hangman with his arm around Syla and their back to the field. Her hand rested on his stomach. 

Damn, Rooster replied. Phoenix added a gif of Stephen Colbert eating popcorn.

Looks like fun, Bob added. 

Fuck the Noles, Fanboy typed out.

Is no one bothered by this??? Payback demanded. The chat went silent until Hangman’s name popped up.

Syla here. Two things - 1) Fuck Miami, and 2) I’m begging you to let the man shave the fucking mustache. Facial hair is not my thing.

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

Note: I didn't expect to write a follow up to First and Goal, but I also didn't expect the engagement with it. Thank you to everyone who read it. A major thank you to @mayhemmanaged for helping talk me through this fic and reading a rough draft of it. And @dreamlandcreations for saying she wanted a part 2.

The North Florida panhandle has a huge military population. I recently moved away from the Gulf Coast, after my dad was stationed at Eglin AFB. That is where I first got to see a jet engine up close and see how beautiful the afterburner could be. It's where I went to my first stateside air show. I completed an internship at the VA in Pensacola, and was able to see the Blue Angels fly every week. Like Jake, I didn't really appreciate the panhandle until I left. There's nothing like shifting from pine trees to an ocean view as you cross the I-10 bridge, going from Whiting Field to Pensacola.

Like Syla, I'm a diehard Seminole, graduating from there a total of 4 times. I actually stole her flight leader's callsign, Duke, from a guy I went to high school and college with, who flies for the Air Force.

So long story short, this fic was inspired by aviation and Lieutenant Commander Amanda 'Stalin' Lee, the first female Blue Angel. Thanks for reading ❤️

Tagging those who reblogged and commented on First and Goal:

kmc1989; gigisimsonmars; starset21; the-slytherin-library-12; ssa-sadboi; fanficfandomlove; shanimallina87; myfaveficrecs; roosterforme; thefandomimagines; dreamlandcreations; topherwrites; roosteraloha; tgmreader; love-in-light; starlightmoon2020; clockworkballerina; bibissparkles; top-hhun; just-in-case-iloveyou; scarlettwidow19; themusingofagothicsoul; milani-marie; rooseresintg; lets-turn-and-burn; bellaireland1981; shanimallina87; sydthekid1518; gspenc; mimi-8793; novagreen04; fulla02reads; alldaysdreamers; atarmychick007; onceupona-happilyeverafter-love; rosiahills22

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Feast." Vilmer Slaughter and Darla Slaughter X FEM! Reader.

Hey, hey, hey! It's Multi-May! Here we fucking go, another entry ready to go! A gift fic for a very speical someone in my life that has now been converted to be reader insert friendly. I hope you all enjoy this fucked up triads formation.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.4K. Vilmer Slaughter And Darla Slaughter X FEM! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Canonical TCM Things (Violence, Gore, Cannabalism.) Teasing. Banter. Making Out. Fingering. Cunnlingus. Vilmer Is An Asshole. Vaginal Sex. Face Sitting. Cum Eating. Thigh Riding. Overstimulation. Multiple Orgasms. Dirty Talk. Threesome.

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You are putting items you want to bring home into your bag, the sound across the room pulls your attention to her. The sound of her chair moving, of her standing, you catch the very pleasant sight of her stretching, hands above her head, fingers interlaced, eyes closed and a sigh crossing her lips. She was standing just far enough out from her desk you get the full effect, eyes dragging from well manicured fingers, to her well styled hair, painted features. The small arch of her back and the way her ample chest caused the buttons of her blouse to strain just a hair, down the tight and short skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, down the long, long shapely legs, hot enough today she had forgone pantyhose, to the tall, almost precarious heels she walked so well in. 

The lines her body created were endlessly appealing, the soft glint of gold jewellery in the low light-

“You good, sweetheart?”

Your eyes snapped back up to her face, she wasn’t stretching any longer, you’d lingered too long, her hands were on her hips and her lips were stretched in a smile, pretty white teeth on display. You continue shoving your things back in your bag, eyes dropping and trying to will your face to not burn in shame over your embarrassment in being caught gawking at her. With a clearing of your throat, you say, “Yeah, I’m great.” 

She hums unconvinced, you hope she drops it.

Silence overtakes for a moment. 

You think you might get away with it until she speaks up again, “Because I think I saw you staring at me, pretty intensely, at that, sugar.” 

Shit. Shit. Fuck. 

“Was I?” You ask, voice pitching higher than it probably should be, you have all your items back in your bag, but you are rooting around in it, pretending to look for your keys, even though you know just where they are. 

You feel the weight of her stare. Finally, you look up, eyes meeting hers and the staring contest between you both across the room is held for almost a hair too long before she breaks, smile back and a laugh, “I’m fucking with you.” 

You smile back. Of course, she was, you laugh with a shake of your head.

Standing up, pushing your chair out, slinging your bag over your shoulder, you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You say this even knowing that there is a good chance she will call you tonight, it has been just long enough that she could call you anytime. “Yeah tomorrow, angel.” 

She hums it sweetly, that smile, slight cock of her head, and you both leave, she turns the lights off on the way out, locks the door and you both step away, walking towards your cars parked next to each other. A small hushed, “Night.” leaves you and her responding, “G’night.” 

The silence has overtaken, not heavy, but present between the both of you as you unlock your car and get in, the door slams in time with hers, both of you turn on your cars, headlights come on, you want to glance her way, you want to wave goodbye, but you’ve already technically said goodnight. Any more would be overkill and maybe read as desperate, and even though you're sure you were, you didn’t want to come across that way.

You pull out, and you go down the road one way, she goes down the other. 

Even when going in opposite directions, your mind is on her.

The friendship between you both grew quickly, naturally, since you started working together. She didn’t interview you, someone else did, you got the job and started, and she helped train you. Sweet and kind, funny, warm, she showed you the ropes and you and her talked over lunches, gleeful conversation made over tuna salad sandwiches and ants on a log and apple slices and whatever else was in your lunch bag and hers. She would bring her chair to your desk, set up camp, sit with you, beside you, talk and talk. 

That’s how it started, anyway. Friendly. Innocent. 

It turned much less so when he came into the picture. 

Curiosity about him was struck early, during the times when she would talk to him on the phone, calling him up asking him in that slightly more seductive timbre to go here or there or, “Could you please do this for me handsome?” 

You’d heard many times her side while she was on the phone but once, she had to step out, something she had to see to, and you needed to be the one to call him, she’d left her Rolodex, the numbers you might need and when a tow was required and couldn’t wait, an accident blocking an arterial road, it was on you to make the call. 

Picking up the phone, fingers dial nearly on autopilot and after three rings the line comes to life with his voice, the first time you’ve heard it, “Darla darlin’ where d’ you need me to go now?”

He calls her darling? You don’t let it throw you, not stumbling, correcting him, “Uh no sorry, not Darla, she’s stepped out but I need you to go to the corner of Main and Jefferson, there’s been an accident near the bank, it’s blocking everything, need you to haul a car away.” 

At the silence that greets, you tack on a small, “Please?” 

“Oh it's you, the other office worker! Shoot, finally gettin’ to talk to ya, Darla’s mentioned you plenty. Sure, I can do that, sweets.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes you do so in kind, you tell him, “Thank you so much! Uhm, give a shout when it’s clear?” 

The question is met with an affirmative hum and a confident, “Definitely, I’d loooove to talk to you again, I’ll call you when it’s done, buh-bye for now.” 

The click rings out and the line goes dead. You are still holding to your ear, thinking that the “buh-bye” sounded very fucking flirty. You thought he was just like that with Darla, or was he like that with everyone? 

When Darla came back you filled her in, and she beamed at you, “Ooh, thank you so much for calling Vilmer while I was out, that was the right thing to do, I knew I could count on you!”  

Her praise pours over you thick and sweet as honey, and you feel warm. 

The drive to your place that evening feels shorter than normal, with your mind running as it had been, soon you are in your driveway and getting out of your car. You take the three steps up to your front porch with your keys still in your hand, the door is unlocked and opened, it’s shut behind you and the usual evening routine is kicked off. 

Bag is dropped, keys in the bowl on the table by the door, shoes off, and you stalk towards the bathroom. It was a hot day, you needed a shower, desperate to wash away the grime and sweat of the day. You go into the bathroom, light clicks on, shower turned on, letting the water sit on the cooler side, you want to be clean but not overheat more than you already were. Clothes are stripped in short order and left in a heap at your feet, you click on the radio you keep in the bathroom, let the music of your favourite station fill the small space, turning it up so you can hear it over the sound of the water once you got into the shower. You get in, a slight shiver as the water runs over you, “Fuck-”

A small curse, it feels good, but it is a tad too cold, you adjust the tap and then your body sags in relief, a sigh as you lean further into it, letting the spray get your hair wet. You take your time cleaning yourself up, feeling much better by the time the water is shut off, and you are drying yourself. You dry your hair while in your robe and soon enough you are getting your currently open bottle of wine from the fridge, you pour a glass and then are on the couch, relaxing, not wanting to get up to make dinner quite yet. 

In your very relaxed state, you unintentionally end up dozing off. 

Before you fell asleep you had been thinking about them, dreaming about them was only natural and what you had dreamt of was the last time you went over to their place. 

Flashes of memories slip over your unconscious mind all about the terrifying tour you experienced. You recall being shown around the almost hoarder level house filled with broken machinery, almost falling apart in places, cracked and filthy baseboards, busted up windows, parts of bodies that were in such a state of decay you weren’t sure what parts they used to even be. 

Eventually you are seated at the table, the food they presented was, visually interesting to say the very least, but you are a good guest, and you don’t want to be rude.

You don’t even know what the food is that they put in front of you, and you don’t ask. 

Typically, in dreams you can’t taste food, but you can taste it here, clear as day, you can never forget how it tasted, thick fat, well seasoned and salted, butter soft, the knife slides through it easily, it tastes and acts like pork and so you tell yourself that is exactly what it is. Even though the longer you’ve spent with them and the more you get to know them, the less and less sure you are on that.

The meal isn’t where it ended, there was some more terrorising, and it was intense, a lot, and the most inexplicable thing? Is that you were allowed to leave after that night. The sun rose, and you ended up walking out of there, shoes in your hand, a bit dirty and worse for wear, exhausted and also unexplainably wet. 

Loud ringing from the phone is what makes you start awake, it takes you a moment, looking around a bit confused trying to get your bearings, you’d fallen asleep on the couch, still wrapped in your blanket. You struggle to get out of the tangled, fuzzy covering and miss the phone by one ring. You sigh and think, “Oh well.” 

You curse yourself figuring it was Darla, you never miss her calls, you could call her back, but you had a feeling that it might not go over well. You leave it be.

After pouring yourself another drink and changing your robe for some clothing, a cropped tank and some shorts, you start on making yourself some dinner, nothing crazy or elaborate, a go-to lazy meal, but you were home alone, who were you trying to impress?

A half hour later, right around when you were plating up, there was a knock at the door. 

Curious.

You of course go to the door and open it and are totally startled to see Vilmer and Darla standing there. 

Vilmer spoke up first, “You avoiding us?” 

You knew it was them calling now for sure, your words almost stumbling over your tongue in your haste to reply, “Oh! No, I just…I missed your call, M’ sorry-”

“S’ fine.” He responds but the look is still harsher than you’d like in his eyes, you aren’t sure what to say.

Silence. 

He breaks it by asking, “You gonna invite us in?”

Jesus, where is your head at. You grip the doorknob and open the door wider, stepping aside and gesturing with your other hand, “Course, please come in.”

They come in, Darla is wearing a different outfit than she was earlier, a dress, tight, clingy, different heels, sparse but chunky jewellery, she looks stunning and well put together. You feel a little underdressed in your comfy lounge wear compared to her, next to Vilmer? Not so much, he was still dressed from work. 

Vilmer strides in first, Darla behind him, your eyes follow him as he strolls in like he owns the place, looking around, you don’t take your gaze from him as you close the door, but then Darla’s hand brushes your forearm. “Hey sweetheart, love the shorts.”

You could feel yourself flush just a little, a small shrug as you say, “Don’t look half as good as you.”

But who does? You thought to yourself as your eyes flick over her quickly, trying not to linger or leer.

You hear a scoff and your head snaps in the direction, Vilmer has made his way into your kitchen, you tear away, Darla laughs and follows, the click of her smart stilettos sound on the hardwood behind you as she trails along. You find Vilmer looking at your pot you had on the stove, a strong calloused hand has the pot handle in his grip, he is moving it around with a look that could be read as mild confusion and disgust. 

“Can I help you?” It slips out more playful than harsh, you fight to make sure that is the case, your hands rest on your hips, and he looks over at you, asking with raised brows, “This the kinda shit you eat when we don’t have you over?”

You don’t have time to defend yourself because Darla does, she is behind you in the doorway, her hands on your shoulders as she says, “Oh fuckssake, lay off her Vilmer-”

“Darla you ain’t even seen this shit-” He argued, face creasing slightly in a mix of anger and annoyance, shaking the pot, and she bit back, “I don’t have to, s’not like you’re any kinda cook worth writin’ home about!”

“Why you gotta act like such a bitch in front of other people?!” He fires at her, and she sounds like she is sneering, “Stop acting like a bitch first, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“You act like this an’ I gotta step up in response! It makes me out to be some kinda asshole-”

You aren’t paying much attention because in their spat, he dropped the pot onto one of the now off burner, he has come forward, pinning you between Vilmer and Darla, both significantly taller than you, fighting over your head. You feel the differences between them. The strong wall of his chest and the smell of him from working all day, thick and masculine, a mix of sweat and musk and oil, and her, behind you, sharp nails in your shoulder, soft curves, the ends of her hair tickling your bare upper arms, and she smells floral, a little sweet, but not cloying.

You start to squirm, you are feeling flustered being so close to the pair while they are getting so heated. Do they fight like this all the time? The thought enters your mind, of them fighting, and it's escalating, turning to ripping off clothes and a struggle for dominance, one of them pinning and then riding the other into oblivion-

Wait.

It’s quiet. Too quiet, the fighting has stopped.

You look up from his face to hers, and they are both staring you down. Her hands wander before his, a slow meander, an offering, testing the waters. The sharp edges of her nails trace down your bare arms, goosebumps spring up in response, you shiver slightly and the more neutral and curious expression she had morphs into a smile. It is that same smile that makes you melt, warm, showing off her teeth. Her hands continue moving, fingers over the bare portion of your stomach, close to the hem of your cropped tank and Vilmer steps in, or rather, forward. 

His mechanically altered leg is between yours and your eyes go wide, dropping to look at the new point of contact he was creating, the light brush of well-worn frayed cottony canvas of his coveralls on your sensitive inner thighs sends small sparks through you that make your fingers twitch. Darla’s hands hadn’t stopped, she was cupping your chest, and you leaned into her touch just as Vilmer adjusted, pressing his knee up to your clothed cunt, your bottom lip caught in your teeth. He rocks his knee forward once, and you let out a small moan, and he finally comments, “Oh, she’s cute.” 

“Isn’t she?” Darla muses, and Vilmer hums, he moves his leg again, more pressure, and he says, “And passive too, she’s just lettin’ us do this-”

“She obviously likes it.” Darla whispers, you shiver and Vilmer piped up, “Betcha she’d let us do whatever we want-” He turns his attention from looking at Darla over your shoulder, to your face, “-wouldn’t ya?”

He doesn’t wait for a response however, choosing to hook calloused fingers in one of the straps of your tank top, he uses it to move you, drag you away, almost like it’s a leash, tugging you towards the table in the small breakfast nook, tucked between the kitchen and living room. Darla allowed him to do this, watching amused as he shoves you onto the hardwood surface, the napkin holder jostles, the salt and pepper shakers knock over, and he touches you again. A rough hand cups you, fondling through the thin material of your top, he all but groans, “God, she’s soft.” 

“I know.” Darla sighs, “S’ hard not to touch her at work all the time. She’s just begging for it.” She had come over to join him, her fingers brushing your outer thigh before gripping harder, fingers digging into plush skin. Your nipples are responding to his rough treatment, the pinching and twisting and pawing, your legs spread on instinct as she plays, and you look up at them, you want more, want to ask, but the words are hard to find. Part of you wants to see what they will decide to do with you on their own, so you hold your tongue. 

The pair of them don’t stop playing, they do start kissing. A possessive messy thing as she toys near the top of your shorts and his fingers suggest the idea of finally getting some real skin on skin contact going. His tongue goes into her mouth first and her hand is cupping you between your thighs, your hips stir, push into her, needy, and he pushes up your shirt, he breaks the kiss with a lustful sound that makes you tense, “Fuck, look at that.” 

You are sure the view of you is a good one. Your short little shorts hugging you just so, tits on display, hair spilling over the table, face flushed and eyes practically pleading to be touched. 

“You are killing me.” Your hands were up near your head, he pressed his hips forward, clothed erection now up against the side of your fingers, letting you feel what you had done to him. 

You are killing him? You feel like you’re the one dying, your panties feel plastered to you from how wet you are, your neglected clit throbbing for some serious attention, as if sensing that Darla’s fingers find their way into your shorts, trace up over the soaked defined slit and press. The timing is just so, the increased pressure exactly over your clit makes you want to melt into the table-top below, the moan that rips from your throat makes him pulse so hard you feel it through the layers of fabric. 

“Okay, I can’t take much more a this teasin’ shit.” His hands come up, and he opens his coveralls in one smooth motion, your eyebrows raise at the exposed skin, fuck he was toned, eyes move down his chest and stomach but as you follow those lines over his hip bones, that defined V, your breath catches, he isn’t wearing anything else under it. Where you’d expect to see the band of whatever underwear he’d prefer, you see the beginnings of dark honey toned rough hair. His hand slips in and a firm grip on his base, and he pulls himself free, hard cock very close to your face, you can see the pre-cum glistening at the tip and the ridges of veins running along his shaft.

“She needs to lose these damn shorts next.” Darla wastes no time, fingers hook, and she says, “C’mon, help me out.” You rush to arch your hips, and she pulls your shorts and panties off with little effort, discarding them. 

This is all happening so quickly, but somehow still not fast enough, or that is the brief thought that you had before you felt Darla’s mouth on you. Fingers seemed like the natural progression, her touching you softly and easily, instead you felt the warmth of her breath and the slight dampness of her saliva on your inner thigh. You look down and see her between your thighs, lips dragging up, lipstick imprints on your pale skin, you squirm, heat flaring much brighter inside of you. 

Vilmer, ever impatient, takes your hand and brings it to him, wraps your fingers around his shaft as he asks, “You can multi-task, can’t you sugar?”

A quick glance up to him, and you say, “Ye-yeah of course I can-” Darla picks that moment, while you are distracted to make her move, leaning up and in closer, her lips pressing to your soaked core, and you jerk with a moan, “Fuck!”

Vilmer snaps his fingers, causing you to jump as he says firmly, “Focus.” 

“Right! Sorry.” You start to move your hand, starting to jerk him off, rhythm is a little clumsy because Darla is starting in on you properly, her tongue is running from your leaking hole, up, and up and when she passes over your clit you let out this shuddering moan, eyelids becoming heavy, vision unfocused. You have to keep your hand moving, you do all you can do to keep the motion going, but Darla isn’t making it easy. 

She moans against you from the taste, eyes falling closed as she slides her tongue back and forth over the most sensitive part of you, she is doing some slow circles but as you respond, shift and moan, it’s like it becomes harder to keep composure. She gets messier with it, sloppy, so into it, you can feel her breathing harder, hot puffs of air against your lower stomach from her nose as she buries herself deeper, gets closer. 

Your hand tightens, grips harder and Vilmer responds positively from the change, “God yeah, you don’t gotta be gentle.” 

That helps, you grip harder, the rougher touch and more friction seemingly makes up for your lack of finesse at the moment. You are moaning from the pleasure rolling through your body, trying to hold on, you need more of a distraction honestly, so you make a move of your own. You lean forward and put your own mouth to work, tongue flicking over the tip of his dick, he stiffens, moans louder, “Fuck yesss-” His hand finds your hair, twists and tugs, “Keep goin’, jus like that dolly.”

It encourages you, lets the pleasure go a bit more on the back burner, you swirl your tongue over the head of his dick and get sloppy, similarly to how Darla was. You kiss messily, lick and suck, let drool slip out and use it, your hand is working his shaft, keeping your mouth busy with the head of his cock. You moan against him as she is practically eating you alive, drinking straight from your cunt and seemingly loving every drop. 

“You both look incredible.” Vilmer breathes, and you want to preen from the praise, the pleasure stops short, Darla is getting up, standing, she leans over, a manicured hand on Vilmer’s shoulder, and she pulls him close. She kisses him, shares the taste of you with him, and you keep going, eyes on them making out as you continue giving him a spit slick hand job that was just getting wetter from the amount of drool coming from your over excited mouth.

He is the one who pulls back, hand leaving your hair, “Get back, I gotta fuck her.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, Darla gives an indulgent smile and steps aside, your hand falls away, and he gets into position, between your spread legs, one hand rests on your knee and the other grips the base of his shaft. You are nearly trembling with want, beyond ready for this, you feel him press up against your hole, there isn’t any easing into it, as soon as he is lined up he is pushing in, rough and hard, making you take him, and it causes your back to arch with a moan. The stretch burns but in a way that feels more good than bad, sensation that makes it harder to breathe, you want more all the same. He doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against you, and he is buried totally inside, he pulls out about halfway before thrusting back in, and you gasp out, “Vil-Vilmerrr-” 

“You ain’t leaving me outta this.” You glance over to see Darla hiking up her dress and holy fuck she isn’t wearing anything under it, you see how wet her thighs are just from eating you out and watching what you did to Vilmer and your eyes go wide. She joins you on the table, one leg swings over, she is on her knees over your face and your hands reach up to rest on her hips, you tug her down, mouth watering once again, desperate for a taste.

She sits on your face and once she is settled, and you have traced through her folds just once, Vilmer’s patience has officially run out, he thinks you’ve gotten adjusted plenty and starts to find his rhythm fucking you. It’s a hot and pleasure filled blur, the taste of Darla is heady, makes your head swim, you can hear her moaning your name above, you are glad you are holding onto her because the way Vilmer is fucking you is causing your entire body to rock with the movement, the table is shifting, you don’t give a shit if it breaks from under you. 

“Christ, she’s tight, s’ a fuckin’ fight to keep in her.” Vilmer is really able to give it to you, can hear the mechanical movements of his leg, the extra strength and leverage it provides, putting in a lot of the work. His hands grip your waist, and he grits out, “An’ how much she’s squirming ain’t helping neither.” 

Darla reaches back, fingers fist in your hair, and she tugs, “Try to keep a bit more still sweetheart and don’ stop what you are doing with your tongue right now, holy shit-” She gasps and grinds her hips down, and you try to listen to them both, but fuck it is hard as Hell.

They are both using your body for their respective pleasure, and you don’t think there is a single place you’d rather be. You are just getting to a point you think you have a handle on it when you feel it, Vilmer’s hands lift, you guess you stopped squirming enough, one of his hands is under your knee and the other one is between your legs and his thumb presses to your clit. You moan into the wetness covering your mouth, eyes rolling back as your legs jerk, “Hold on.” 

He picks up the pace, fucks you much harder, thumb rubbing up and down over your clit and the edge creeps up, builds much faster than you are prepared for, your mouth slows, but Darla takes over, helps out. Her hands are on your chest, and she is grinding her cunt on your mouth, you can hear her moans getting louder, you think she is close, sounds like she is going to cum before you can. You refocus, your impending orgasm backs off just a bit as you put all your energy into redoubling your efforts with your mouth, it works, you hear her all but yell, a crying call of how good it feels, a plea to keep going, and it encourages you, finally, you are rewarded after another minute, she cums against your lips and chin, her head pitching forward and her body shuddering with your name on her tongue.

Your mouth slows and your body starts to play catch up, it’s going to happen and there is nothing you can do to stop it, feeling almost light-headed, Darla’s orgasm has subsided, she slides off of your face. You take a deep gulping breath of air and on the exhalation it happens, you tip over the edge and cum. Vilmer forces himself deep inside, as if worried you’d force him out during your own orgasm, he grinds more into you rather than thrusting in and out, his thumb keeps stroking over your clit, working you through it. Your mouth is a mess, soaked with Darla, as you are nearly sobbing a strange mixture of their names so loudly you are thankful your neighbours live so far and won’t hear you. 

Finally, the pleasure stops and pain and more overstimulation starts to set in, you try to knock Vilmer’s hand away and beg for a breather, “No way, M’ not far off, not stopping till I fill you up.”

Darla was on her knees by your head, she brushes some hair off your sweat slick forehead, “Yeah, don’t you want that?”

You did, dear God you did, you nod, an incoherent moan of the affirmative, Darla touches you softly, plays with you, gentle rolling of your nipples, light circles on your hypersensitive clit. “God she’s fuckin’ good, wild little thing, gonna have to do this again an’ again-”

His praise sinks into your bones, his pace is getting sloppy and uneven, you are mumbling out a weak and rambling chant, “Again an’ again, please, please, please-”

“We will don’t worry, many times as you want.” She assures, and he grits out, “Fuck, gonna cum.”

There’s no time to beg because he is, holding to the hilt he unloads in you, head hanging forward with a groan you feel the warmth spill into you. The shudder that runs up your spine isn’t something you can help. 

Catching your breath and untangling takes a while. 

But soon enough you find yourself on the couch with him. It had started innocently, you leaking cum, sitting next to him, his arm around your shoulders as he was praising you, talking about how good you felt wrapped around him, how much he liked the sounds you made, somehow it had transitioned to him toying with you again. 

Darla is in the kitchen making something for you all to eat and here he is, having you perched on his mechanically enhanced leg, making you ride his thigh, because according to him, “Cummin’ just once is unacceptable baby, you gotta at least one more time, my ego jus’ won’t settle for less. You understand, yeah? C'mon now, don't keep me waitin’, I know you want to-”

The command is spoken into the hollow of your throat, the drag of his lips, the slight scrape of the very minimal stubble is doing everything for you, cumming again so soon should usually be impossible, but he is too good, plus there is some setting on his leg setup that has it vibrating against you, and you are finding yourself shaking through another peak just as Darla is bringing your food in. 

“Awe he wringin’ nother one outta you? He’s being so generous tonight.” She coos, her heels are off now, she sits on the couch next to you, watching your tired body roll and work through your second orgasm of the evening. You slump against him, and he is stroking up your back, “Good fuckin’ girl, so loud too, I love it, could listen to you all night.” 

Darla nudges you and takes your wrist, she pushes the plate into your hand, and you numbly take it, breathing out a weak, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

You sit up a bit more and look down to see the grilled cheese she’d made, you pick it up realising how ravenous you felt, Darla watches as you start to eat, and with her hand that isn’t holding her and Vilmer’s plate she reaches out and cups your ass, asking, “You gonna be a good host and let us spend the night?”

It would be rude to turn them away now, you supposed, and it seemed like the night was far from over. 

[dubljarnasims]

Mollie Cote

Part of the 6th generation of my legacy, Mollie was a surprise to me! Del Sol Valley started displaying the white screen issue after I converted a residential lot to residential rental and after trying several things to fix it, it became clear that the only true fix would be to uninstall and reinstall the pack. Before that, I went through the families living in the world to see if they had any existing relationships with my family and discovered Mollie.

Her family tree didn't include her mother, so it's someone with a maiden or married name of Cote...but it did include her father. Sometime between the birth of his first and second child with his wife, Cassandra, Tinker Sakamoto had a relationship with a mystery Ms. Cote.

No CC included in the download - please see the list and links below.

Parents: Unknown Cote & Tinker Sakamoto Sibling(s): Dade Sakamoto, Dillon Sakamoto, Danika Sakamoto

✨ DOWNLOAD HERE (Google Drive)

Clothing/Accessories:

Earrings - Pitted0live | Kayla earrings set

Glasses - Sevensims | Touch glasses

Nails -  xUrbanSimsX | Kate nail kit - autumn

Pants - Euno | Straight wide jeans

Piercing - Overkillsimmer | Learah nose rings set

Shoes - Mochizen | Chunky sandals v2

Top - Korkassims | Harper cardigan

Hair/Makeup/Skin Details:

Blush - Northern Siberia Winds | Blush n8

Eyebags - ddarkstonee | Eyebags n2

Eyebags - Kismet Sims | Eyebags plus

Eyebags - Tamo | Basic eye bags

Eyebrows - RemusSirion | Eyebrows n20b trimmed

Eyelashes - Kijiko | 3D lashes version 2 uncurled

Eyeliner - Pralinesims | N37 symonne

Eyeshadow - Pralinesims | N10 titanium

Freckles - Tekrisims | Freckles!

Hair - SavageSims | Toni pixie cut

Lips - ddarkstonee | Lips n38

Moles - Whimsims | More moles

Teeth - Simbience | Teeth #1

Defaults:

Skin - Luumia | Vanilla default skin

Eyes - Pralinesims | Oasis v2 default

Sliders & Presets:

Butt - CmarNYC | Enhanced butt slider

Eyebrows - Magic Bot | Default eyebrow slider

Eyebrows - Obscurus | Eyebrow sliders

Eyes - marsosims | Eye size slider

Face - Luumia | Face asymmetry slider

Forehead - Bloodmoon | Forehead height slider

Hips - Luumia | Hip shape slider

Lower Legs - CmarNYC | Enhanced lower legs slider

Mouth - Magic Bot | Default mouth slider

Mouth - Teanmoon | Mouth scale slider

Nose - Magic Bot | Default nose slider

Shoulders - Dumbaby | Shoulder height slider female

Thighs - DaniParadise | Thigh slider

🐌 Many thanks to the CC creators! 🐌

@bloodmooncc @ddarkstonee @eunosims @kijiko-sims @kismet-sims

@korkassims @luumia @magic-bot @marsosims @mochizencc

@northernsiberiawinds @obscurus-sims @overkillsimmer @pralinesims @remussirion

@savage-sims @sevensims @simbience @tamo-sim @teanmoon

@tekri @xurbansimsx @whimsims

[sleepy-grav3]

Parents - Uramichi x Reader

A/n: Random idea passed by and I couldn't make it go away, so uh yay

Summary: Uramichi, Kumao, Usao, and S/n (stage name) are made to go to a lovely mall event for father's day! Uramichi does a passionate speech about parents and growing up and Y/n couldn't help but tear up at what he had said, leading to an emotional bonding moment.

Tw: Angst (there is comfort), parent problems, swears, spoilers, depression, verbal abuse, some other stuff I might've ended up forgetting...

Also, your stage costume is a hip-hop dancer type with sunglasses. You always wear the sunglasses to hide your eyes that seem to always show your current mood (which isn't good for your job). Just a little thing.

And this is also not too romantic, but whatever.

Y/n’s POV

“Y/n, I always see you with the sunglasses… They’re also really heavily tinted with a color and have different shapes. I doubt that Derekida actually buys those…”

I turned to look over at Usahara and smiled.

“Why do I wear these? Well people say that my eyes give away my current feelings! And since I work 2 jobs to keep living while having mandatory therapy to prevent me from going to a mental hospital, I don’t get sleep that often! So how do you think I feel every single god damn day?”

“U-um… Tired? Maybe?”

“Wow! You got it right! And what happens when you’re tired for such a reasoning every single fucking day?”

“You have heavy eye bags and get really angry really easily?”

“Ding ding ding! That must’ve been a hard question, Usao! I’m so glad the bunny learned yet another thing today!”

Usahara backed away, leaning over Kumatari’s shoulder.

“Is it just me or is Y/n sounding more and more like Uramichi as the days go on?”

“Please don’t talk to me.”

You mean the depressed 31-year old who’s having breakdowns about 10 times a day? Honey, I only break down to that point when nobody’s watching. This is nothing.

“You’re not a very good whisperer, Usao!”

“EEK!”

To top it off, Uramichi entered the room with a blank stare and… what’s with the red balloon? He might as well be trying to cosplay Nicklewise with that balloon… but more depressed…

He turned his head to me with a more intense blank stare. I only tilted my head and gave him a more bright and sparkly smile. That seemed to make it worse as the stare became more… intense- how the hell is he doing that?!

“Hey, it’s Uramichi-san, good mor-”

“Morning. Want a balloon?”

“Nope. For someone in your line of work, it’s amazing how little that look suits you…”

“Huh?!”

“...Nothing.”

“Y/n?”

“I look like a kid enough with this get up. Do I need a balloon and backwards cap to top it off?”

“... yes.”

“No ♥️”

-

I pushed Uramichi off stage for a moment, seeing as he broke down after a single comment from a child. Wimp.

“Haha! That was so nice of you to say, Tak-kun! It hit his heart so hard that he couldn’t help but cry from joy! Let’s give Uramichi oniisan some to convert that joy into energy instead of tears! And I think I know just the way! Let’s all get up and have a dance session with S/n!”

I could already see some of the parents hesitating along with some of the older siblings chuckling. I’ll teach ‘em-

“YAYYY!”

Some music started up and I started to guide them through it, making sure I called out each and everyone who laughed at our Uramichi ^v^

-

“Today, as a special treat, Uramichi Oniisan and his friends will draw pictures of their daddies too!”

That’s not on the script-

“...Huh?” Uramichi turned to the hostess. “That… wasn’t on the script.”

“Us too? For real?”

“Don’t you want to know what their daddies look like, boys and girls?”

The audience cheered, making me realize how often we use these kids to support our own ideas to cover for our faults. Huh…

“Gosh! I don’t know if I can draw my dad that well! Do you guys remember your dad’s faces?”

“I love my dad, hippety! No… well, I guess I remember it, but can I draw it? Maybe not..”

“Me too, grr! I just remembered I haven’t visited my folks since two years ago.”

“Wow, to think I get to show my dad off to the kids! I bet he’ll be so happy! Absolutely, but I'm not giving him this satisfaction. Make it up, that's what I'm doing.”

"That's actually really sad..." Usahara drooped his shoulders a bit.

I ignored everything else that happened, focusing on drawing some random man that would fit my character. What would fit my character? Maybe I should just make him have some normal clothes and make it up as I go? Nah, I’ll just make him another dancer.

I turned to see how the others were doing until I saw the fuck up the animals made.

“What the hell happened to your characters?” I questioned.

“Seriously, what happened to your characters?” Usamichi repeated.

That’s when they realized their fuck up. That didn’t work though, the kids still questioned it.

“H-hey, let’s take a look at the other two, hippety!”

I launched myself over to Usao, wrapping an arm around his shoulder with a hearty laugh.

“Man, I was wondering when I would be up! This is my dad! He’s another dancer like me! Showed me the ropes, you know? Ain’t he cool!”

“Yeah!”

“But I’m better, right!”

“YEAHH!”

“WOOO! That’s the spirit! Let’s move onto our amazing oniisan! Whatcha got the-... there…?”

The drawing he made was rough but it was of a muscular man throwing a crying kid and holding another crying kid. I had to strain my smile to keep it up as he spoke about his father. I’m… I’m amazed that he didn’t draw someone different like I did…

There was definitely more to this man, but children were present and he isn’t actually that close to us at the moment, so I doubt we’ll really get much more out of him unless we see through the lines…

Those lines have a pretty big gap though, so it’s not like it’s that hard.

“Weren’t you sad having him as a daddy?”

“If he hadn’t been my dad, I wouldn’t be here talking to you today!”

Wouldn’t that be a good thing?

“We all have only 1 life to live. Sometimes we think we’ve made a mistake, even if we can’t be sure whether that’s true or not… But in the end, if something brings us even a little happiness, it wasn’t a mistake at all! Whether you can reverse the mistakes of your mommies or daddies… all depends on the lives you grow up to lead. Even if you can’t live for somebody else… if you can live without blaming somebody else, I think that’s wonderful.”

Before a tear fell, I quickly wiped it away and went over to Uramichi, giving him a small side hug and a rub on his back. He put a hand on my shoulder, gripping it a bit tight for comfort.

Man, nothing can get past this man.

-

I couldn’t really see through my tears anymore as I sat down and took off my sunglasses.

“Fuck man… you need to warn me when you do those speeches..”

“Holy shit- are you crying?” Usahara asked.

“Shut up, I’ll clear up in a moment. Just… fuck…”

I felt someone pulling me into an embrace, petting my head so I rested against his shoulder.

“It’s ok to cry in front of us, just let it out.”

Uramichi…

~Flashback | 3rd person ~

“Stop crying! This isn’t something to cry about!” Y/n’s dad exclaimed.

“I-I ca-can’t!”

Y/n curled up in their seat at the dining table, pulling at their hair to relieve some stress.

“It’s just homework, why can’t you do something as simple as this?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Y/n flinched, eyes wide from their mistake as they looked up in fear. Their dad grabbed their face with a hand with a tight grip, making them look into his eyes.

“Look at me. Don’t yell. Just take a deep breath and get back to work. You can have your break after you’re done.”

This wasn’t the only memory that flew by the current Y/n’s head either.

“Mom, I can’t find my notebook!”

“So? C’mon, stop wasting my time.” She rolled her eyes.

“Huh? Can’t you help me look for it?”

“And why should I? You lost it.”

“And you lost your keys yesterday! Why do I have to help you look for your stuff when you lose it but when I lose stuff, you don’t help me?”

“Because that’s reality. People are unfair and you have to handle problems yourself.”

“But I helped you…”

“That’s your problem then.”

~ Flashback end | Still 3rd person ~

“It must’ve sucked having a dad like that, right?”

Uramichi didn’t respond, knowing they had more to say.

“My parents were always really strict with my academic grades. I never got break and their word was law. So I decided to do just what they wanted. Yeah, sure, it was more extreme but… that didn’t fucking matter. They got even more angry at me. ‘Why won’t you help me find my keys?’ Because you never helped me with anything. ‘Why don’t you just ask us for help?’ Because when I asked, you said that it was nothing and to get over it. ‘Why won’t you hang out with your friends?’ Because you said they’re useless! Nothing mattered! They were never happy with me! It’s to the point they changed everything for my sister yet still treated me the same!”

Kumatani and Usahara awkwardly looked at each other. They never really saw Y/n look so distraught before. In fact, they got more and more concerned as Y/n rambled on and on, words soon becoming incoherent. Uramichi only continued to hug them, feeling a strange sense of comfort holding them.

“That’s way too many expectations. It makes sense why you chose to do that.”

“And they still ask why I’m depressed. They gave me a therapist and right from the 3rd day, they asked why I’m not fixed? Is severe depression supposed to be something fixable like that? NO!”

“That’s actually very angering.”

“And that’s not even the worst of it- They say this whole job is stupid! That I have college degrees and should be doing something with my life! But I- I feel happy here! Even if this job is draining, I get to make some people happy! Why should I give that up?!”

Uramichi could only agree with most of what they said. And honestly, he really did agree with Y/n. Their parents were the type to think they were always in the right, even after having a group talk with their therapist. Now that’s a fixed mindset.

Eventually, Y/n took a quick breath, wiping away their tears and pulling away with a bright yet awkward smile.

“Well, that was a great vent! I think I should call my therapist for an earlier meeting- anyway- Thanks for listening. I hope to never do that again.”

“That’s a quick switch!” Usahara exclaimed.

Uramichi got up as well, putting his hands on their cheeks gently to make them look at his face, rubbing circles with his thumbs.

“What they did was wrong, you know that. Family shouldn’t be the only people you could depend on. Friends are a good thing to have. Hobbies, even if you drop them, are good too. As long as you find some happiness in what you do, it’s ok. So you don’t have to listen to them. Do what you want. Stay here as long as you want.”

“Seriously, please don’t leave me in this hell of a kids show-”

“Here, how about we go out for a drink? I know you don’t usually drink anything alcoholic, so maybe a cafe might be better?”

Y/n blinked owlishly, blushing slightly as they had started to lean forward into his touch. He couldn’t help but squish their cheeks together.

“Cute…”

“Uh, sure… When? What time?”

“How about today right now?”

“Yeah, um, sure. Great. Ok, let’s uh… go then…”

“You still have to change out of your clothes.”

“Right! Uh- I’ll be right back!”

Y/n quickly left to the stalls and Usahara crouched down.

“I can’t believe it… Uramichi is actually going on a date…”

“What are you talking about?”

Usahara jumped up, grabbing the gym rat by his sweater and shaking him violently.

“You idiot! Don’t you realize that you just asked Y/n on a date! A DATE! AND THEY ACCEPTED!”

Uramichi’s eyes widened, face going bright red.

“Oh shit, I did-”

A/N: Would ya look at that! I had enough motivation to type another thing! It's awful but whatever. I'll eventually get something actually romantic on here... hopefully... It's probably not what you expected, sorry... Anyway! Hope you have a good day!

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Rabbit versus Kevin Fiala

Part 5 - No Contest

A/N - Well, here's part 5 of 5. @ladylooch - I honest to goodness had only thought of doing a lil blurb initially...apparently I just couldn't stop talking. But I'm happy to have learned even more about Kevin after I swooned over him with Sam in B's Letters in your Last Name fic. Thank you to the anons that sent in such encouraging words and to anyone else that stopped by, I really appreciate it very much. As always, to @misshoneyimhome and to B, thank you for your uplifting notes...it really helped calm the anxiousness I had about this story. Warnings/Notes - 18+, general smuttiness, oral (fem receiving), intercourse p in v, fluff, swearing. B - I had written a smutty little submission to you anonymously asking if what I had written sounded like any of your AU couples; you mentioned it was a little like Liv and Luca but it could maybe stand in it's own, so I included excerpts in this 😉 Word count 5.6k Mariana awoke to the sound of a vehicle starting in the distance.  Still curled up in the front seat of her car, she looked to see that the driver’s seat was empty, with her car still running.

She lifted her head slightly and she watched Kevin pull his Porsche out onto the street in front of her car.  Coming back to Mariana’s car, he hopped back in, shifted into gear, and slowly pulled it forward through the gate into his driveway.  

With the car still running, he started looking for something around the dashboard.  

Mariana gently put her hand over his and guided it toward a switch that would slide the automatic top of the convertible back in place.

Kevin chuckled, kissing her hand.  “Be right back,” he said, as he got out of the car.  

Mariana adjusted her seat to sit upright, and got out of the passenger side to see Kevin pulling his car into what little space was remaining in the small driveway.

Kevin closed the gate, which had Mariana’s car secured on one side, and Kevin’s car being less secured on the other.  “Thank you so much for switching the cars around.  I’m trying not to be paranoid with something happening to her, but you never know. I really appreciate it, Rico,” she said.

Mariana opened the trunk to retrieve their bags.  While she leaned forward, Kevin came up behind her and cupped her ass cheek as he reached past to grab the bag for her.  

She almost let an audible groan out as every erogenous zone on her body lit up.  

Kevin placed his hand on Mariana’s back as he guided her towards the main entrance of the house.  He handed back her keys to her car and he said towards her ear, “Thanks for letting me drive.  That’s a really nice ride.”

Mariana threw her head back in a show of exasperation from his “nice ride” comment, followed by a deep, guttural moan.  “Jesus Rico, you’re fucking killing me,” she laughed.

Kevin opened the door and guided Mariana in first.  “Was it something I said?” he feigned innocence as he closed the door.  

Mariana bit her lip trying not to smile.  “You know what you said,” she purred, as she set her bag down by the door.

Kevin tossed his keys onto the console table as he slowly stepped towards Mariana until his hands were lightly gripping her hips. She responded by running her fingers up the back of his scalp, as he lowered his head closer to hers.  “What….all I said was ‘really nice ride’.”  Between his velvet tone and his Swiss accent, Mariana felt her arousal beginning to seep into her panties, as her clit swelled in desperation for Kevin.

Kevin pressed Mariana's body against the front door and guided her thigh open allowing him to grind himself against her centre.  Each dizzying kiss and every shared breath fueled their desperation and pushed any self-control they might have, off a cliff.  

Gone were the bashful glances and subtle flirtations.  Her hands grasped the fabric of his sweater before she reached underneath to feel his beautifully toned torso.  As he reached behind his head to pull his sweater off, Mariana's hands were splayed wide feeling each muscle flex along his flank.  

Mariana grabbed the belt loops on Kevin’s pants and then slid her fingers towards the button.   “I guess I’m hoping you’ll be even more impressed with my ride,” she cooed.  While working the button open with one hand, Mariana snaked her other hand around his neck, kissing him so deeply that Kevin felt his 6-foot frame might just crumble to the ground.  

Then she did it.  She nearly pushed him past the point of sanity when she palmed his erection through his pants, then dipped her hand down inside to stroke his still shrouded cock.  

Kevin’s briefs were wet where the concealed tip of his rigid dick stood almost straight out.  Mariana was salivating in her mind with thoughts of tasting every delicious inch of his swollen member.  That was going to have to wait; right now, her engorged pussy needed to feel his thick shaft buried inside of her.  

Mariana slid down his pants and his briefs and her pussy ached with the sight of Kevin’s fully erect penis.  She stared at his length and girth and nearly climaxed with the thought of riding hard on such a sizable cock until it satiated every one of her deepest desires.

Mariana raked her fingernails down Kevin’s chest, looking at his face with total adoration.  “You’re so gorgeous, in every way imaginable,” she said, uttering the words so softly and so genuinely, it made Kevin’s heart swell.  

The fervour Kevin felt when Mariana touched his cock for the first time was otherworldly; but as he helped Mariana out of her clothes and looked at every contour and curve of her exquisite body, he worried he was never going to last more than a minute inside of her.  

Kevin reached into the bag that he had used that day that was tossed nearby and fished out a box of condoms.  Mariana smiled watching Kevin’s movements and at the difference of skintone between Kevin’s tanned parts, and the parts that had not been kissed by the sun’s rays. 

Kevin reached out for Mariana’s hand and pulled her in for another steamy and sensual kiss. 

Ripping open the condom wrapper behind Mariana’s back with her body against his, she began to stroke his shaft while kissing his neck and down across his collarbone.  “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, I can barely concentrate to get this fucking thing out of the package,” Kevin grunted.

Mariana stopped stroking him as his mouth tasted hers once more; his lips kissing a trail down her neck, with the sensation of the soft whiskers of his moustache making her walls clench.  

With the condom on, Kevin sat at the end of the couch; his cock was rigid and it pointed to the ceiling as he guided Mariana to straddle him.  He looked at her face with a longing he had never felt before as he swept back her long and flowering dark hair.  He wrapped one muscular arm around her waist, while his other hand began to explore the wetness between her thighs.  Mariana moaned as Kevin’s mouth latched onto her nipple, sending a jolt of need straight to her core, which he now had his middle finger deep inside of.  She clenched repeatedly around his finger as he alternated between breasts, lapping at the sensitive peaks of her taut nipples.   

The motion of her hips began to slide her clit up and down along his shaft and Mariana could hardly withstand the pressure building between her legs.  As her moans became louder and longer, she buried her face in the crook of Kevin’s neck and gasped that she needed him inside of her now.  “Please Kevin, I - I can’t fucking take this.  I need it - please…please put your cock inside of me.”  Her voice was shaking as she whimpered in his ear.  Kevin had wound Mariana up so much that every touch was like a tiny electric shock, making her body jolt.      

Kevin kissed her passionately as he lowered her onto his cock.  Mariana clutched the back of the couch as they both moaned “fuuuuck” loudly as she adjusted to his size.   

Slowly, she began to rise and fall; her pussy walls were tight and gripped every inch of Kevin’s length.  Kevin leaned his head back between Mariana’s hands; her knuckles had turned white as she clasped onto the couch frame.  The palms of Kevin’s hands felt rugged as he stroked Mariana’s flank and her defined back muscles as she began to increase her pace.  His hands then slid around to the soft, fleshy tops of her ass,  squeezing her cheeks as he drove into her.  

Mariana cried out in ecstasy when she slid down to the base of his cock.  The sensation was mind-bending as she bounced and grinded on top of him; her urges were all over the map between her pussy desperately clenching his cock and the need to press her own thighs together.  Kevin moaned and panted profanities when Mariana reached around to stroke his balls as she rode him, using her own arousal that pooled around his base as lubricant.    

With her other hand, she let it roam over Kevin’s chest and shoulders, while he began to stroke Mariana’s clit that was so eager to be teased.  

Kevin loved watching Mariana’s facial expressions.  Her lips curved into a smile when he kissed and sucked her nipples.  When he’d grab her ass to encourage her grinding, her mouth would fall open and her brows would furrow as she closed her eyes.  But the minute he thumbed her clit faster, while she bounced on him like she was riding a stallion bareback, her eyes would open wildly and her head would snap backwards as she moaned Kevin’s name again and again.  Kevin knew more about Mariana’s desires in ten minutes than he ever could figure out with any of his past lovers.  She was simply magnificent.

Mariana’s contours gleamed with sweat in the low light of Kevin’s living room as her imminent orgasm gripped her, and body moved totally on instinct from this point.  She loved the way Kevin’s cock felt when she bounced and slid her tight pussy up and down along its length.  But when he held her hips firmly and she grinded on his dick rapidly, pushing the limits of how much deeper it would go, she completely unravelled.  She worried if she held onto Kevin’s shoulders that she’d hurt him so she clasped onto the back of the couch again, sliding her hips back and forth as fast as she could.  

Mariana’s moans and panting and calling Kevin’s name pushed him over the edge and with a long guttural moan, his cock spurted and spilled cum into the condom, just as Mariana’s entire body clenched with her own climax.  

Kevin loved the feeling of an exhausted Mariana holding onto him, and he continued to stroke her back and hips.  “Are you ok?” he smiled as he spoke into her neck.  “Mariana, that was fucking amazing - absolutely incredible,” Kevin said softly, gathering up her hair that was matted with sweat.  

All she could do was nod, but he could feel her wide smile as she buried her face against him.  

Mariana began to dismount slowly, and release his cock from her core.   

As she stood in front of Kevin, he leaned forward from the couch and ran his hands over the softness of her stomach.  She held his hands as they roamed her body and he revelled in her beauty.  

They walked together into Kevin’s bedroom and Mariana teasingly looked at the bed, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip.  

Kevin looked at her with one of the cockiest grins she had ever seen, and in one swoop as she faced him, he lifted her up holding her under her ass and carried her to the bathroom counter.  “You’re looking for more right now?  

Mariana yelped and giggled when he set her down and her cheeks felt the cold marble.  “I would love more - but I would love just to lie with you; figure out where my favourite places are to kiss your body.  Maybe “more” can wait until tomorrow,” she said softly, kissing up and down his neck.

Kevin leaned his forehead against hers and nodded as he stood between her legs.  After removing the condom and cleaning himself up, he laid out some essentials for Mariana, gave her a sweet kiss and exited the bathroom to give her some privacy.  

When Mariana emerged modestly wrapped in a towel, Kevin's eyes were soft as he gazed at her from his bed.  

He reached over to the pillow on the opposite side, and handed her the t-shirt he had folded and left for her.  “I wasn't sure if you liked to sleep with something on or not?”

Mariana’s eyes lit up when she unfolded the t-shirt.  Back at the Kopitar’s, all the guests had received gift bags full of team issued attire, and she was thrilled that her collection of merchandise was growing rapidly.  But the t-shirt had ‘Fiala’ and his number 22 on the back, and if she was meant to keep it, the sentimental value of it, no matter what might transpire between them in the future, was immeasurable.  

She turned away from Kevin slightly, pulled the t-shirt over top of the towel and let the towel fall, folding it up and setting it off to the side.  Kevin watched Mariana climb onto the bed next to him; his heart rate ramping up quickly as his desire to touch and kiss her again took hold.  She seemed a little nervous, and if he was being honest with himself, he was a little too.   Whether it was a mix of anticipation of the next minute, hour or day that they might spend together or the fact that they really had not known each other for more than five minutes, everything between them seemed to fit so perfectly.

Kevin shifted onto his side and adjusted himself to allow Mariana to snuggle in close.  He felt his cock responding to her body being pressed against his.  As much as he wanted to be inside of her again, he wanted to take the time to get a sense of what Mariana is like when it’s quiet and it’s just the two of them.  Kevin felt that he didn’t need to know everything about Mariana immediately; getting to know someone is ongoing and fluid and it takes time, and he looked forward to spending that time with her.  But lying in bed, talking, or just being quiet together is something Kevin valued greatly.

In Mariana’s head, she could hardly believe that she could love being pulled into a man’s chest as much as she did in that moment.  She felt warm, safe and cared for and it was something she realised had been entirely missing from her previous life.  

When Mariana’s hands ceased to move after caressing his back muscles, Kevin kissed Mariana’s forehead and mumbled into her skin if she was falling asleep.   She let out a light moan and nodded her head, as she lightly kissed his chest.  

Kevin kept his one arm wrapped around Mariana as he reached behind him to switch the light off.  He looked down at Mariana as her thumb stroked his face, and the two kissed each other softly, wished each other sweet dreams, and promptly drifted off to sleep.

◈◈◈◈

A car horn blares in the distance, waking Mariana from a deep sleep.  The room is dark but there are flashes of daylight as the drawn curtains flap from the ocean breeze. 

She rolls onto her side and sees an empty space next to her in the bed.  Before her heart can drop or flip, she sees her phone laying on Kevin’s pillow.  Propping herself up on one elbow, she opens her phone and looks at the time, first groaning audibly of how late it is in the morning, for her anyway.  There are a few text messages, but the most recent is from Kevin.  Anxiously, she taps on the message, which is a picture of her sleeping.  The text read:

Rico Sauvé Good morning beautiful. I didn’t want to wake you - just gone out to pick up some things.  Be right back.  Hope you had a good sleep 

Mariana flopped back onto her pillow and just beamed from happiness.  She took a few moments to wake up some more, and try to stop her mind from racing and just enjoy the feeling of the moment.  

As she looked around the room, she could see Kevin had not lived in this house for long.  It was exceptionally tidy but there were not many personal touches or belongings that were on display.  Mariana was now more curious to hear his version of what transpired in his last relationship but she would not nudge him for even a crumb of information, unless she was 100% sure he wanted to talk about it.  

Getting out of bed, she walked softly into the ensuite and smiled as she saw her reflection with Kevin’s t-shirt on.  She freshened up and brushed her teeth; she giggled to herself that Kevin had even thought to leave her a spare toothbrush.  

Not long after she had wandered back to bed, she could hear music from a car radio close by.   The music then abruptly stopped and she heard a car door open and close.  Her heart began to race in anticipation of Kevin’s return and she tried her best to contain her excitement to see him.  

Sure enough, the front door opened and closed, and she heard his keys drop onto the same table that was next to her as she stripped naked for him the night before.  

Mariana’s eyes danced when she saw him walk towards her, wearing nothing particularly special but because it was Kevin, she had never seen a more incredible looking man.

In his hands, he carried 4 cups; two coffees and two green drinks with straws, and he balanced a box on top.  He brought everything over to the nightstand next to Mariana, and she helped set everything down.  He remained bent over and he leaned towards Mariana’s face.  “Good morning Beautiful,” Kevin said, kissing her longingly.   

She touched his face while they continued their kiss, the tips of their tongues meeting and rekindling a need that lay dormant only while they slept.  

Kevin began to kiss Mariana softly around her mouth and across her cheek that was growing hotter by the second.  Kevin stood up and smiled, “I took a chance and picked up coffee and smoothies, and a few pastries that I thought you might like. When I woke up this morning, I remembered I had no food and nothing really to give to you - only water,” he winked.  

Kevin climbed onto the other side of the bed and leaned in close next to Mariana. 

Her eyes lit up with amazement and appreciation as she looked at Kevin’s smiling face.  “Mmmm  - A picnic in bed….Jesus, Rico…honestly, I feel so spoiled.  You are so thoughtful….”  

Mariana handed Kevin his smoothie and she grabbed her own.  Kevin’s mouth began to curl into a smile.  “You know what I realised, when you called me Rico just now?” 

Mariana covered her face apologetically as she chuckled.  “Seriously, I’ll try to stop…it just comes out and I don’t even realise it half the time.”

“No, please don’t…I wasn’t saying that.  I actually thought about it this morning while I was out and I just remembered now.”  Kevin seemed to be pausing for effect, just enough to have Mariana twisting to know what he was on about.  

Kevin cleared his throat and took a sip of his smoothie, taking his time before he spoke again before Mariana nudged him and laughed, “C’mon…you’re killing me here.” 

Kevin smirked, “Oh, right….where was I,” his further delay made Mariana roll her eyes and put her face in her hands.  “I realised that last night when we were…out in the living room,” Kevin snickered watching Mariana squirm in anticipation, “that you never called me Rico while we made love, like not even once.  From the time we met,  you had never, ever called me Kevin, but all throughout our fun last night, you just called - well moaned Kevin the entire time. I just thought it was sort of interesting.”

Mariana glanced over at Kevin, her cheeks turning beet red.  She thought for a moment and looked like she made a connection in her mind to another moment.  “I actually realised the same thing the other night when I was….” Mariana stopped mid-sentence and squinted as she kicked her own ass mentally having mistakenly brought up her night with the Rabbit.

Kevin was quick and knew exactly what she was referring to, so he decided to have a little fun.

“When you were…what?” 

“Please don't make me say it….I know you know what I was doing…” Mariana put her face in her hands, shaking her head.

It excited Kevin to no end to know that she pleasured herself while thinking of him.  He knew it was a little mean, but he wanted to hear her say it.

“You said you were testing out a new power tool…what was it again?  A hammer drill, I think is what you said, right?” Kevin said coyly.

Mariana groaned, her palms pressed firmly against her face.  “Pleeeeeaase stop,” Mariana let out a muffled laugh.  

Kevin had a tiny smirk on his face during his interrogation, but his heart expanded in his chest even more while he watched her turn fifty shades of red.

“Yes…ok, fine…I thought of you during - while I was taking care of business…is that what you’re looking for?” Mariana admitted as she laughed.  

“So…what was it….what did you use when you were thinking about me,” Kevin teased.

“Oh my god…really?” Mariana giggled in disbelief.  “It’s just called the Rabbit - it’s sorta the new high tech version with a bunch of bells and whistles. Are you satisfied now?” 

Kevin’s expression shifted slightly as he nodded his head, his eyes trailing down to her mouth.  He gently took Mariana’s smoothie from her hand and set it aside on the nightstand, along with his.  Letting his eyes and hands do the talking, he lifted her shirt over her head, and leaned Mariana back onto the mattress.  

“Let’s see if I’m better than the Rabbit,” Kevin said as he pressed his lips against Mariana’s.

Kevin’s kisses were first soft and sensual as Mariana’s mouth responded to every luscious touch and tease of his tongue.  Her hands moved across the expanse of Kevin’s back muscles and up his spine, and he responded by pulling himself on top of her and stretching her legs wide.

Kevin kneeled in front of her and the two worked to quickly discard his clothing, leaving his briefs on.  Mariana’s throat tightened with excitement and anticipation as she stared as his cock, still concealed under the cotton fabric, jutted out between his legs.  He kissed her passionately and while laying her back once more, their kisses reached a fever pitch, full of lust and wanting.  Together, they began to move in sync as Kevin grinded his clothed dick against Mariana’s pussy with the fabric of his briefs soaking wet from their heightened arousal.  They moaned mid-kiss as they shared prolonged and hungry stares while Mariana’s fingernails lightly grazed the flesh all over Kevin’s body.  

Kevin felt there were moments where he might actually lose his mind with the effect Mariana had on him.   He had experienced his fair share of women in the past, however, between hidden agendas, lack of chemistry or just not the right time, Kevin was unable to find a deep connection with someone special.  And what’s more was Kevin knew, without a doubt in his mind, Mariana felt the same about him.  There was no guesswork involved when the two of them were together.

Kevin’s mouth moved from Mariana’s lips, and began to devour her neck as their bodies were tightly intertwined, wracked with intense and heated passion.  Mariana’s hands no longer lightly caressed Kevin’s skin like they had been; they held on tightly to his body, sliding constantly from his biceps, shoulders, neck and back. Their bodies rocked, grinding their incessant need between their legs.  

“Mariana…holy fuck….,,” Kevin gasped into her ear.  Mariana could feel his erection pressing hard against her folds, almost driving her mad with desire for him.

He came to his senses enough to begin working his way down her body, licking and sucking her nipples as he descended down her hourglass figure.  Kevin paid attention to kissing places along her hips and the indent of her waist where no one has ever bothered to kiss before.

When Kevin reached Mariana’s small patch at the top of her pussy, Mariana inhaled sharply and began to shift uncomfortably underneath him.  Her former partner had fractured her confidence and self-esteem, often withholding affection and intimacy when he was upset with her.  The gaslighting and manipulation was almost a daily occurrence before she caught him cheating. and the start of the end of her former world began. 

She wasn't even aware how deep her anxieties were until that very moment with Kevin, and she worried something about her would turn him off.

“Kev - Kevin - I'm….not really….I'm worried that you're not going to….that something will be wrong with me down there and you’ll go off me completely,” Mariana said, her voice slightly trembling and was barely above a whisper.  

Kevin stopped and looked up at Mariana's face and felt her embarrassment; he wasn't going to assume he knew all the reasons she felt this way, but he was fairly certain it began with her ex-boyfriend.

Kevin spoke softly and reassuringly as he kissed and stroked her skin.  “Please - can I please try first?  I’ll take it slowly….just breathe and try to relax.  I already know I’m going to love the way you taste. But if you tell me to stop, I promise. I will.” 

Mariana apprehensively nodded her head “ok” as she laid back and tried to relax with a deep exhale.  Kevin kissed her abdomen gently and murmured into her skin of how perfect she is to him. He moved further down, kissing the insides of her thighs and he spoke gentle words of encouragement with some added direction.  

He licked a long and steady strip up between her folds and began to repeat that over and again, applying a little more pressure each time.  Kevin smiled to himself when he heard Mariana moaning his name.   Kevin wrapped his mouth around her outer lips of her pussy, moving his head so his moustache was tickling the area around Mariana’s clit.  Kevin’s mouth gently sucked and licked her entire core, while making her cry out when he inserted his finger and curved it deep inside of her.

Mariana’s hands alternated between running her fingers through his hair and grasping his hands which held her hips in place.  She began to feel her entire body begin to tingle, and then shudder, and her moans became longer, and eventually louder.  She could feel the intense warmth and extreme pressure of pleasure building in her lower body, as Kevin moaned how great she tasted while licking every part of her cunt.  

Once the hilt of her orgasm took hold, Mariana’s eyes shot open as she let out a loud and strained “Fuck yes!”. Her extremities quivered and Kevin held her legs apart as he continued to push her limits with his mouth.  More wails from Mariana could be heard while she clung to and twisted the sheets.   Kevin guided Mariana through her first-ever orgasm by mouth, and eventually her body began to unclench and relax, and the quaking in her legs began to subside.    

The houses in Kevin’s neighbourhood were stacked incredibly close to one another.  Even still,  Mariana and Kevin weren’t expecting to hear a group of women cheering and chanting nearby that were within earshot of their activities.  “Yaaaaaaaaaaas!!!  Get after it guuuurl….I need me somma that….Woooooooohooooooooo!! Yesssssssir….”  

Mariana covered her mouth and closed her legs as she rolled onto her side, giggling as she released her euphoria which now was mixed with a smidge of embarrassment.  Kevin discreetly wiped his mouth with a discarded shirt as he peppered Mariana’s body with kisses while repositioning their bodies under the blankets together.  No words were spoken as the two began to kiss and hands began to travel over each other’s bodies.  Mariana slowly rolled Kevin onto his back as she salivated with the thoughts of having him deep inside of her mouth, tasting the distinct flavour of his arousal.  

Kevin smiled and shook his head.  “I promise there’ll be plenty of opportunities for that in the future,” he chuckled “but right now, I’m dying to be inside of you again.”

Mariana smiled and kissed his broad and tanned chest while Kevin reached for a condom.  Mariana lay beside him, kissing his bicep and stroking his thigh as he rolled the condom down his shaft.

He turned to Mariana and kissed her deeply as he rolled her onto her back.  Spreading her legs wide, Kevin watched Mariana’s eyes close as he slowly slid his thick length inside of her.  They kissed slowly and passionately as Kevin began to pump his cock deep inside of her.  Kevin and Mariana gazed at each other as Kevin began to move more rapidly, smiling and whispering to each other as their pleasure took hold.   Kevin shifted her one leg over his shoulder, and he moved his hands to cradle the back of Mariana’s head and neck, bringing her even closer than before.  She lightly gripped his arms and his thighs as he began to pound into her core harder.  

That familiar sensation quickly took hold inside of her, and she began to stroke her clit while Kevin watched, his groans turning into short but loud grunts.  

The walls of Mariana’s pussy clenched Kevin's shaft as pressed her head back into the pillow.  Kevin was so deep in her core; he bucked his hips in short, rapid motions making Mariana’s toes curl.  

Another huge wave of an orgasm gripped her insides and she gritted her teeth trying to control her volume as soft wails and moans still sounded deep from within.  .  

“I think I need to scream,” she said to Kevin, in an exhausted half-whisper, “but I'm afraid we still have an audience.”  

Kevin slowed his pace.  “I don't mind…it's okay, I'll make nice with the neighbours.  I wanna hear you so bad,” Kevin groaned near Mariana’s ear, then smoothing back her damp hair from her face.

Mariana's wide eyes were fixed on Kevin's as she nodded and smiled, followed by a soft “you're amazing…” and a kiss to his lips.  

He quickly regained his rhythm and pace, and Mariana fingers dug into his muscular frame.   Unrelenting cries of bliss filled the room and the sounds of damp skin clapping together was intoxicating.  Kevin switched to pumping her cunt in deep and steady motions as leaned his forehead against hers.  Mariana’s body began to clench and the entire length of her legs shook as once again, the pressure began to build in her core.  When the tight coil inside of her was stretched until it snapped, Mariana bellowed in the midst of an orgasm so intense, she could barely believe that sound came from her.  

Kevin had a firm hold on Mariana’s body as she wanted to buck and arch her back from the profound exhilaration she felt.  He was reaching the height of his own rapture; perspiration dotted his face as he closed his eyes while the feeling of his own fierce orgasm twisted inside of him.  Kevin grasped the back of Mariana’s hair and he gazed at her spellbinding face as her heavy eyes looked longingly at him.  She continued to watch Kevin’s face while he fucked her deep and hard, running her hands over his wet skin as he let go of any remaining control that he had.  Kevin gritted his teeth as his hips bucked wildly into her.  Mariana could tell when he orgasm hit him hard; his strong body nearly collapsed and pressed his head against her jawline, hollering expletives while riding the heights of his climax.   

After a moment, he lifted his head.  “Holy Fuck - woooo….dizzy….,” Kevin said as he began to move slowly and gingerly, kissing Mariana softly.  

On cue, the ladies from nearby could be heard saying “Oh…..that's right, Daddy…you can c'mon over here next…I’ll be so good to you….I'm good to go all day long….,”.

Mariana and Kevin shot each other a knowing look as Kevin scoffed at the comments, shaking his head.

After Kevin disposed of the latex sheath, he and Mariana laid together with their glistening bodies intertwined as the still cool morning breeze swept in.  

With their appetites raging after a quick shower and a quick sheet change, the pair resumed their morning picnic on Kevin’s bed.   

Mariana smiled as she kissed away the crumbs in his moustache.  “So….did you want to hear the verdict of the Rabbit versus Kevin Fiala?”  

Kevin thought for a moment and motioned for Mariana to hand over her coffee cup to him.  Setting them aside, he paused, and with no warning, he tickled Mariana on the backs of her thighs, rendering her defenceless.  She tried to get away but Kevin had her lightly pinned with his body between her legs and her arms above her head.  He took Mariana’s breath away with the way he gazed down at her and she kissed him adoringly.  

“Kevin - there’s no fucking contest,” Mariana said, breaking her hands free and moving them down to squeeze his ass cheeks. “You’ve already spoiled me beyond my wildest fantasies, so I guess it’s gonna have to be you and only you in every single way.”

Kevin’s deep and dark eyes softened as he kissed Mariana again.  “You could use it while I’m away," he paused and feigned pouting as he added, "I’m leaving for Australia next week, and some of these roadies during the season are pretty long.”

“I guess if I have to…I’ve already named it Kevin anyway,” Mariana grinned.  “I might just let the urges build for when you get back,” Mariana paused as she leaned over to Kevin seductively, rolled him on his back and placed open mouthed kisses down his body. “I’ll be waiting up to show you again, and again, and again, just how much I missed you.”

[nonconstories]

My little writing prompt: anonymous halloween party encounter, perhaps a few masks and a skimpy costume? Thematic for October! -@cupidftm

You are EXPLOITING my costume fetish!! EXPLOITING IT!!

Click under the cut for PART ONE of something that got VERY LONG because I am a COSTUME SLUT. AKA public sex, groping, slutty costumes, and impending parking lot foursome with strangers. Under negotiated sexy stuff and pussy spanking. Part two is very nearly done and the full piece is going up this weekend

Word Count 2k

They called it the Barn Dance. What else were they supposed to call it; the nightclub it was thrown in was inside an actual, converted barn, because the proud people of South East Michigan were not going to go all the way to Detroit (or worse, Ann Arbor) just to party on Halloween. So, every year, Hayloft filled all three dance floors with decorations and booze and candy and charged 30 bucks for tickets. Costumes were mandatory, drugs tolerated, and drunk sex in the bathrooms, parking lot, and less visible corners virtually guaranteed. Hence, why Hazel was here, dressed in the sluttiest costume he could get his hands on, three drinks deep, and determined to fuck the memory of his ex-boyfriend anyway.

Bentley was around here somewhere; the asshole never missed the Barn Dance. Had, in fact, met Hazel at the one held three years prior. Now, he was likely prowling around for new hole to stick his dick inside, since fucking Hazel had gotten old, or whatever he'd said ten days ago, while dumping him on the patio.

Hazel ordered a fourth drink.

Now thoroughly buzzed, he jumped off the barstool he'd claimed nearly two hours prior, and stalked out of the bar area and towards the main dance floor. He felt eyes on him the whole way. Some were doubtlessly judging the skin tight shorts and bikini-like top, but most felt appreciative, maybe even greedy, and he tried to smooth his expression into something welcoming. He hadn't shown his belly in a long time; not since the t-shots had thickened up his treasure trail and chest hair, as well as putting the extra squish onto his hips and stomach and legs.

His blood boiled as he thought of Bentley's grim looks and back-handed reassurances that Hazel could "lose it", of his oh so innocents remarks about shaving and waxing and fucking electrolysis. Boiled as hot as it had when he was buying the itsy-bitsy ensemble he was now filling out so nicely. Both the bikini top and the shorts were fuzzy and brown, textured like a fancy teddy bear's fur to go with the tiny ears nestled into his hair, and the Ugg-like boots on his feet. The top, two triangles pointing inward to meet between his soft pecs, showed glimpses of his surgery scars, and was closed with a delicate red bow. A matching one was around his neck, and from it dangles a small, gold tag. It was that tag that had sold him in the costume shop: up close, you could see that it was stamped with Pet Me, I'm Soft.

Music pounded and thrummed and all around him, the bodies surged and swirled until he was swallowed into the chaos of the dance floor. More eyes were on him, so he showed off. He let the music worm its way into his bones and make him writhe and shimmy and roll his body in a way he'd normally never do outside of a gay club. Hell, normally he never danced in "straight" clubs at all, had been too worried about dancing like a girl.

Well, guess what? The ways girls dance is hot, and Hazel looked hot doing it, knew that for a fact, and that's what he needed. Hell, bagging a bi-curious straight dude might be the exact thrill he needed to make Bentley seem as irrelevant as possible.

Most of the faces around him were covered by masks, and that seemed to be making people bolder than usual. Some of the gazes on his body turned to hands. Hands grabbing or petting his ass, or his stomach; hands trailing down his back, sending shivers up and down his spine; hands reaching around from behind to fondle his chest through his fuzzy top. Face flushing, he let them, welcomed every caress like a compliment, and even rewarded some of the gropers with warm gasps of pleasure.

Someone stepped in close. Very close: his back was brushing against the leather of the stranger's jacket and the sensation had his painted toes curling in his boots. Hands, also wrapped in leather, caught his hips in a possessive, commanding grip, and Hazel let out another exaggerated gasp. Instead of turning around, he continued to flirt with his body, rolling and rocking in place until he felt the stranger's cock start to plump up behind his fly.

Not looking back, he grabbed his admirer by the wrists, and started to guide them up and down. Getting the message, the stranger caressed his waist and his ribs and his stomach, and Hazel ground his ass back against him. Pressed in this close, he could feel the strength in that body, and it made him ache with want. "Cute costume," the stranger shouted into his ear; where their faces touched, Hazel could feel a mask covering the top half of his face.

"I know," Hazel shouted back, and blushed when he laughed.

His lips pressed a few teasing kisses against one bare shoulder, and then his fingertips danced up to the edge of Hazel's top. "Not sure you need this part." His eyes rolled back into his head as two fingers on each hand slide under his top and rubbed his scars appreciatively. Over the last couples of years, dark hair had bloomed around both of them, contrasting with the soft, red lines. "Yeah, you don't need it! Lemme take it off."

"Right here?" Hazel shouted back, as his pussy ached and his dick whimpered for attention. "Oh! You do mean right here!" He laughed, delighted and stunned, as those eager hands undid the bow between his pecs and peeled the top open. "You are bold," he said, trying to purr seductively. Unfortunately, he choked on the words a little when the stranger began pinching and rubbing his nipples. Frantic, energizing pleasure rolled through his chest and his pussy, and he pressed harder back into the stranger's chest. When he looked down, the flashing, multi-colored lights of the dance floor reflected off the glossy black of the gloved fingers toying with his chest.

"Like that?" One hand dropped from his chest to his crotch, and Hazel moaned as the stranger started to rub him off through the front of his shorts. "Hump my hand. Hump my fucking hand, cutie." A hard cock rubbed against the swell of his ass, making Hazel's mouth water and his pussy ache even more. Too turned on to even think of resisting, his hips started bucking on their own, and the stranger growled "Oh, fuck yeah," as Hazel desperately humped the hand between his legs.

Hazel let his eyes fall closed as the stranger played with him with both hands, and could both feel and hear the small audience they'd attracted. A couple of the bolder (or drunker) party-goers had shouted "Fuck him" or "Rip him up" and more and more heat was rising to his face and building up in his pussy. But then the air in front of him shifted, and his eyes flew open as a second body pressed into his space. A guy in a Devil costume, horned mask and cape and tight black body suit, stared down at Hazel with obvious hunger, and Hazel opened his mouth to say something.

Sculpted rubber pressed against his lips and face as the devil kissed him through the full face mask, effectively gagging him with the stretchy black material that covered the grinning mouth. The first stranger, the one all in leather, laughed, and both of his hands went to Hazel's hips. While Hazel panted against the devil mask, the man in leather started bouncing his ass against the bulge in his jeans. "What took you so long?" He shouted, and the devil mask pulled back to answer him.

"I'm here now! And look what you caught!" Now it was his turn to fondle Hazel's scars and nipples, sniggering about the shiny gold tag the entire time. "Got him all turned on, too" he taunted, and Hazel gave him a highly exaggerated bat of his eyelashes. Biting his lip as the cock against his ass continued to grind away, he did his best to hold his thighs open. "Whore." With one final pinch, he turned his attention from Hazel's chest to his pussy. He rubbed one hand down his belly and over his pubic bone, until he was cupping him through his shorts. Instead of stroking and petting, however, he started to spank.

"HEY!" Hazel jumped in the first man's leathery grip, and both strangers laughed at his reaction. "Stop!" He said, mostly on reflex, as devil mask continued slapping his dick and pussy through the thin fabric.

"Oh, shut up," devil mask cooed, and his free hand gently grabbed Hazel's throat. "Yeah, keep flinching for me, whore. I'll kiss it better when I'm done."

Hazel was no longer yelping: the firm, rhythmic smacks were making his pussy even hotter, and he squeezed down on nothing with every blow. His breath was coming in loud pants as he tried to both hump the hand between his thighs and grind his ass against the other stranger's cock. "Fuck me!" He moaned, and devil mask stopped spanking his pussy to fumble at the front of his own costume. Behind him, the first stranger growled, and grabbed the back of his shorts. Buttons snapped open on devil mask's fly, and the stranger in leather started to pull down his shorts to expose the curve of his ass. "Do it, fucking do it," Hazel pleaded, as their small audience tittering with excitement.

Devil mask let his dick fall out of his fly as he yanked down the front of Hazel's shorts, leaving him exposing to the hot, sexually charged air of the party. Two hard dicks slid into the tiny gap that his fuzzy shorts allowed between his thighs, and Hazel nearly fainted from the teasing pleasure of cock rubbing against his sensitive labia. Squishing him in between their bodies, the strangers frotted against Hazel and each other, cockheads already leaking. Their hands groped up and down his body: squeezing his ass, twisting his nipples, pulling his hair, fingering his mouth.

"I wanna be in you," the stranger in leather groaned, and devil mask fucked his thighs faster. "I wanna fuck your tight little boy cunt and then stuff your mouth with my dick."

"I wanna cover you in my fucking cum," devil mask said, and Hazel suggested that they take this to the parking lot. "Knew you were a whore. Think you're up for a foursome? Or are two cocks gonna be enough for your cute pussy?"

The thought of a third stranger plowing him outside the packed club had him feeling light-headed again, so he nodded eagerly, and the stranger in leather reached around to fondle his dick as a reward. "He's gonna love you," he assured Hazel, as the two of them put their cocks away and pulled his shorts back into place. They left his top open as they each grabbed one of his arms and escorted him out of the throng and towards the nearest exit.

Outside, the air was cold and the wind was biting, and only a few starkly white lights were scattered among the rows of cars and trucks. "Why wasn't he in there with you?" Hazel asked, and purred as the one in leather squeezed his ass.

"He likes when we do the shopping for him."

Devil mask led them through the park lot, towards a panel van parked in the back corner of the lot, and normally Hazel would run screaming in the other direction, but, honestly? He was too turned on to be scared, and happily followed the two strangers into the back of the van.

[athenaderiva]

The Park

Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word count - 450ish

Fluffy fluff (CW- implications of depression symptoms but nothing intense, just issues going outside)

You think you picked a bad day to go to the park from the second you arrive. There are families everywhere, despite the cold weather. You sigh, clinging to Santiago’s hand in an attempt to keep at least your hand warm. He chuckles and takes his scarf, wrapping it around your neck and you breathe a little easier. He leads you to a quieter spot, sitting down on a bench with you and pulling your thermos’ out of his bag. You sigh, leaning on his shoulder.

“Thank you for getting me out of the house,” you mumble, guilt tinging your voice. He wraps his arm around you, his fingers squeezing your arm gently.

“You don’t have to thank me, hermosa. I’d do anything for you, you know that. And everyone struggles now and then.” You huff and he chuckles. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to be cliche.” You shake your head, leaning closer to him as you sip the cinnamon hot chocolate in your thermos. “I still don’t know how you drink that stuff.”

“I converted the Millers and Frankie, I’ll convert you too.” You grumble and he laughs. You both sit bolt upright as you hear a cry and you turn your head to see a small girl, probably four or five years old. “Hey honey, are you okay?” You ask, instantly jumping up and she runs to you and wraps herself around your legs. “You lost your parents?” She nods shyly and you smile sympathetically. You hoist her up onto your hip to carry her as you walk in the direction she had come from. Santiago can’t stop staring, thoughts of you as a parent filling his head again as he catches up to you. You wander through the park, holding the child close to your body and your thermos in your other hand. Santiago keeps an eye out for any parents who look frantic and eventually the little girl points to a pair of women who are looking around.

“Mama! Mama!” She cries and you walk towards the women. They both seem to crumple in relief and the taller one takes the girl from you.

“Thank you so much for finding her! We were so worried, she’s never disappeared before.”

“It’s no problem. She seems very sweet.” You smile at the mothers as they fuss over the little girl and Santiago takes your hand, leading you away. “Are you okay?”

“I want to have a baby with you.” He says and your jaw drops.

“Are you sure?” You whisper and he nods, leaning in to kiss you.

“I never thought I would get to have kids and I can’t picture raising them with anyone but you.” You smile at him and nod.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay! Let’s do it!”

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf fanfic

Sun/moon x female oc

Part 5

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, mechanical repairs, obsessive behavior, angst, mentions of past trauma, brief choking, bruises

Summary: Sun’s jealousy and overbearing behavior finally gets the better of him, while Tabby gets a heavy reminder that Moon still might have some problems with his code…

Feedback appreciated, 18+

Sun watched as an unknown car pulled up alongside the apartment, his optics narrow as Tabby stumbled out of the back seat.

“Whose car is that?” He asked under his breath, holding open the curtain with a single finger.

M: It’s a registered Uber…

“Hmmm.” Sun frowned. He stepped away from the window, moving to wait near the door.

M: Sun…

“Hush.” He hissed, “I’ll handle this.”

M: That’s what I’m worried about.

The door was opened minutes later, Tabby not expecting to see the apartment brightly lit. It was very late.

Her eyes fell on Sun, face brightening. Seeing her reaction to him made his chest hurt, but his jealousy and concern clouded his thoughts like a storm.

“Oh, hey you!” Tabby smiled, “Whatur you doin up?” She struggled to remove her giant boots, almost falling over.

He scanned her: blood-alcohol level high, raised dopamine, raised heart rate, nutritional deficiencies and low hydration.

When he didn’t answer she looked up, “Sun?” She asked, confused.

He was uncharacteristically still, standing straight and stiff.

“You’re drunk.” Sun’s voice was low, arms crossed with a scowl plastered over his face.

“Am I?” She asked sarcastically, snorting.

“Come home late, alone, and drunk.” His scowl deepened.

Her smile fell, putting her bag down to pad into the kitchen. She put a hand on her hip, “I did, and is that a problem?”

Sun scoffed, turning away.

Tabby asked again, more pointedly, “Is that a problem for you?”

“Is that-“ he started, almost flabbergasted. He rounded on her, exclaiming, “It’s dangerous! You could of been hurt or taken advantage of or kidnapped or or or-“

“I'm fine!” She snapped back, “I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

Sun made a sound making her go on, “I never go out, this is the first time I've seen a friend in months!”

Her eyes were glassy, head swimming as she went on, “I can handle myself.”

Sun snorted, “You’re a mess!”

“How dare you!”

“How dare I? How dare I?!” He put his hand over his chest, exaggeratedly, “How dare I care about you? How dare I take care of you?”

“I lived just fine before you.”

“‘Fine’ is a gross overstatement of your living standards.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to shame me!” Tabby screamed, tears running her makeup, “I never asked you to take care of me!”

“That’s our job!” Sun’s voice cracked as he shot back.

“You are not a caregiver anymore!” Her voice was harsher than she intended, “This isn’t the daycare and I’m not a little kid!”

Sun jolted, looking away.

“You can’t parent me.” She went on, stepping closer, “Look at me!”

Sun flinched, turning back towards her, beginning to shrink into himself.

“I’m not your child, I’m not your girlfriend, and I sure as hell am not your wife.” Tabby’s voice was hard, a sharp warning following, “So don’t you dare think you have any say in what I do, where I go, or who I see.”

Sun’s optics flicked over her: to the flushness of her cheeks, the mascara running from the tears, and the high rate of her heartbeat. He’d never seen her so angry.

He wilted.

“Understood?” She pressed, trying to keep herself from shaking.

“U-Understood.” He managed.

She held her gaze on him for a moment longer, reaching for the light afterwards. She flipped the switch, forcing Sun to convert to Moon.

He looked at her with heavy concern, body tight.

Tabby pushed past him, slamming the door to her bedroom. Moon stayed stone still for many long moments, unsure what to even do.

She rubbed her eyes, smearing makeup into an even worse mess. She felt like shit, hangover mixing with the little amount of sleep she’d gotten.

Standing, Tabby had to take a moment for her vision to clear. She frowned, seeing multiple pieces of paper that had been slid under her door during the night.

Picking them up, she thumbed through them.

I’m sorry.

Written in yellow crayon below a colored picture of herself, Sun, and Moon. The next one was like the first but a bit more messy, the writing ‘Sorry Sorry’ scrawled across the top in a dark blue marker.

She huffed, sitting the drawings on her bed before unlocking the door.

The apartment was quiet and unusually dark, curiosity getting the better of her.

Moon stood in the darkness corner of the kitchen, furthest away from the balcony doors. He was still, head tilted 90 degrees.

“Moon?” She blinked, confused.

His head clinked to the opposite side.

“Why isn’t Sun out?” She asked, adding, “Isn’t he supposed to charge?”

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star.” His voice came softly, mouth not moving as he sang, “How I wonder what you are…”

Tabby sighed, patience thin, she ran her fingers through her hair, huffing, “I don’t have time for this.” She looked back at him, adding, “I have to get ready for work.”

Moon didn’t move, watching as she started the coffee machine.

“When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.” He sang quietly, music box tinking along to the tune.

Tabby took some aspirin from the cabinet, swallowing it dry as she watched the coffee trickle into the pot.

His head clicked back to its normal position as Tabby padded into the living room. She pulled the curtains closed across the balcony, cutting away a large portion of the apartment’s light.

Before she turned away from the curtains, she froze, feeling a puff of hot synthetic breath.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are…” Moon’s voice sang into her ear, the sound hissing a bit as it left his voicebox.

Tabby took in a breath, fingers clenching the fabric still in her hand. She steadied herself, letting go of the curtain to slowly turn.

His faceplate was inches from her face now, unmoving in its toothy smile.

“Coffees ready.” He informed, hunched forward to be eye level with her.

In no mood, Tabby blew a chunk of hair out of her face, lifting a hand to gently pat the cheek of his faceplate. The gesture was more patronizing than kind, Tabby using the last pat to shift him to the side slightly, “Thanks bud.”

The contact made the animatronic falter, despite whatever feelings charged it, moving easily to let her by. He turned his head to watch her go, fingers coming to touch over that shadow of contact, optics flicking to the way her hips swayed in her night shorts.

Finally getting coffee, Tabby took a deep drink, softening a bit of her frustrations. Seeing Moon still stuck in place she snickered, “Didn’t break you, did I?”

The sound of her giggling brought him back to himself, dropping down to all fours to crawl around the back of the couch into the thicker darkness.

Taking another sip, she informed, “You know I’m not mad at you.”

Moon peeked out, red optic curious.

She gave him a weak smile, “You specifically, though. Sun can eat my ass until he’s man enough to talk to me.”

Moon’s face split into a smile at that, making her own lips deepen into something more genuine.

“You are welcome to steal the phrase.” She sighed, sitting the cup down.

Moon shook his head, admitting, “Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

That answer piqued her interest, turning fully towards him. He looked like a cat, tangled up on himself to crouch as small as he could manage. “Why can’t you?” She asked before answering her own question, “Ooooh right…the language filter.”

He gave a small nod.

Tabby got a mischievous look on her face, making Moon tilt his head. “Would you like to?” Her lips curled into an evil grin.

Moon mimicked the sentiment as the idea wormed into his mind. He gave her an enthusiastic nod.

“I’ll brainstorm how to solve that little issue while at work.” She nodded, adding, “Speaking of, I need to attempt to look like a functioning member of this fair city, if you’ll excuse me.”

Moon watched as she dramatically made an exit to the bathroom, tuning out Sun’s complete breakdown in their shared headspace.

~

The day went by slowly, Tabby going back and forth between stewing and regret, the warehouse giving her mind too much time to wonder.

She sat in her car for some long moments before finally steeling herself to enter the apartment complex. Whatever she’d prepared for wasn’t the storm she actually encountered.

The apartment was filled with smoke, coming from the kitchen. The fire alarm sounded as Sun panicked. The smoke came from the oven and a pan on the stovetop, something bubbling and black within.

Tabby dropped her bag in shock, quickly closing the door so the smoke didn’t get out to the main complex’s fire system.

“Sun?!” She yelled.

The animatronic spun around, optics wild.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Sun chanted, voice shrill with panic. He kept apologizing as Tabby ran for the corner cabinet. The apartment’s fire alarm blared overhead, mixing with Sun’s freak out. Tabby pulled out a bright red package, ripping it open to then throw its contents over the pan. It was a fire blanket, instantly smothering anything within.

Sun stopped, going silent as they watched a trickle of smoke leak from under the blanket. Tabby took a breath to steady herself, moving to pat the blanket to further cut off oxygen.

“Okay…” she sighed, moving to pick up a chair, taking it over to the wall. She stood on the chair, taking the battery out of the fire alarm. Finally, there was a welcome quiet.

As she carefully stepped down, Sun started blurting out apologies again. His voice was still strained with stress, his rays almost completely retracted.

“Sun.” She tried to say but when he didn’t hear her over himself she yelled, “Sun!”

He froze, optics darting around. He held himself, trembling a bit, hunched forward to make himself smaller.

“Just…what happened?” She asked tiredly.

“I…I…I-I wanted to a-apologize.” He tried to explain, voicebox skipping a bit.

“By burning down my kitchen?” Tabby hugged.

“W-Was trying t-t-to make a cake.” He looked at his feet, shamefully, “I…I just w-wanted to a-apologize…”

Tabby smiled softened, padding closer to take his faceplate gently in her hands. She lifted his face up, Sun looking confused.

“Shhhhhh.” She soothed, “No one got hurt.”

“But I-“ he started, her correcting.

“You made a mistake.” She hummed, “We’ll take care of it. Right now, come on…” she moved to take his hands, leading to the couch. They sat down, Sun still stiff and withdrawn.

Voice thick with bewilderment and fear, he asked, “You aren't mad?”

“About this?” She gestured back towards the kitchen.

He nodded.

“No!” She soothed but added more seriously, “But you need to be more careful with cooking. Baby steps ok?”

“Okay.” He agreed instantly.

“No, I am still upset about the other stuff,” she informed.

He tightened again, rays sucking back in.

“Honestly I’m more pissed about this morning…” she elaborated, crossing her arms as she leaned against the couch.

“More than last night?” He asked softly.

“Mhm.” She nodded, going on, “Made me stew all day about it instead of just talking to me…”

“I was afraid…” he whispered, leaning forward and looking at his feet, “I don’t want you to be angry at me.”

She pressed, “So just talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.” He started, “About last night and this morning.” His voice sounded genuine, making Tabby soften.

“I’m sorry too.”

“What?” Sun looked up, confused.

Tabby swallowed, admitting, “I went too far…I shouldn't have said some of that stuff.”

“I was mean to you.” He frowned.

“Yea…but you are also alone here every day.” She huffed, looking down, “I’m just not used to someone always caring so much, it feels…overwhelming…sometimes.”

Sun’s fingers twitched, wanting to hug her and comfort her but he restrained, trying to internalize her words.

They spoke of boundaries: of what would be healthy and expected of two adults that share the same space. Sun agreed to not police her ever again, unless something was actively dangerous; while Tabby agreed to be more understanding of Sun’s need to take care of people and his loneliness.

They apologized again, Tabby making a special note about her harsh words that morning. Sun was quiet the rest of the afternoon, helping clean the kitchen.

Tabby found some incense to assist in removing the burnt smell.

“More smoke?” Sun asked, rays retracting.

“This is nice smelling smoke.” She smiled, stepping back, “Covers up the stinky stuff.”

Sun got closer, optics following the thin curling wisp of smoke as it trickled towards the ceiling. “What smell is it?” He asked, curious.

“‘Dragons’s Blood’”

His face scrunched up with amusement, “How do they know what dragons smell like?”

Tabby giggled, “That’s a company’s way to give themselves freedom to make shit smell like whatever they want.”

~

Over the next two weeks things went fairly smoothly, there was an undertone of wariness, however. Sun clearly wanted something more, to openly express certain feelings, but was mindful to keep most to himself.

Their new clothes came in the mail, both animatronics excited to try on their individual outfits: Sun picked out a colorful hoodie with a dinosaur-like decorative ridge on the sleeves, with orange and white striped pants; while Moon chose a galaxy themed hoodie with a pair of grey sweats decorated with a star pattern.

Sun beamed excitedly, flapping his hands, finally adorned in bright colors again.

He stood on his tiptoes, hands in the air, mimicking the pose his statue once held at the entrance of the daycare. The little display was all for Tabby, showing off his outfit.

She clapped, making his rays spin.

~

Tabby worked late that night, by the time she busted into the apartment excitedly Moon was already active.

“I figured it out!” She announced, swinging the door open quickly.

Moon jumped, optics wide with surprise. His head swiveled around to look at her. He was sitting knotted up on the couch, movie playing on the tv.

“I think I know how to override the filter.” She went on, locking the door carefully.

Moon tilted his head, faceplate following her as she sat all of her items down in their respective places, info dumping on him all the while.

“I’ll need to run some simulations to make sure before I go picking around your brains, but….” She turned towards him, a smile on her lips, “Think it will work?”

Putting him on the spot, Moon shrugged.

“Well, I hope it will.”

True to her word she worked well past the time Moon had designated as her ‘bedtime’. He shuffled into her office, looking annoyed. Her desk was scattered with cans of soda and energy drinks, a few snack wrappers as well.

Moon didn’t police what she ate, he could honestly care less, unlike Sun.

His optics shifted around to take in the whole scene, falling onto her: bent forward like a shrimp, blanket over her head. He snorted with amusement, her looking like a cartoon witch.

“Hey.” She commented, glancing at him after the sound.

His head tilted as he came closer. “Naughty, naughty.” His voice rasped low.

“But I figured out the thing!” She argued, “That should get me some good girl points.”

“Past your bedtime.” Moon informed, bending over her chair, faceplate over her.

She looked up, inches from one another, pouting out her lower lip.

“But-“

“No buts.” He scolded, taking the back of her chair and starting to push it and herself into the hallway.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, when he didn’t stop she crossed her arms in a huff.

“Choo choo.” Moon pushed her into the bathroom, “Naughty express, first stop.”

She grumbled in response.

“Brush teeth!” Moon urged, unmoved.

She stood, going to the sink with an indignant, “Uhgggh.”

Moon patiently waited, a toothy smile plastered over his face. As soon as she was done she attempted to go around him but he was firm, blocking the doorway with the chair.

“Moon!”

He tapped the chair again, smiling wide.

“Oh my god…” she huffed, sitting back down with crossed arms.

“All aboard!” Moon announced cheerily, “Next stop: Bed!” As he backed up the chair back into the hallway. Tabby seethed, Moon taking her into her room and right in front of the bed.

When she didn’t move he shook the chair a bit, announcing, “Last stop: Bed.”

“Do you want me to sleep in my clothes?” She turned a bit to eye him.

The smile looked suddenly forced. She was unbothered, holding his gaze. He shook the chair again expectantly.

“Fine!” She stood, moving to the bed.

“Naughty kittens get the bedtime train.” Moon informed, moving to pick up a pajama shirt from the floor.

“That one is dirty.”

“Whole room is dirty.” He quipped, making her snort.

“Will you at least take my chair back?” She asked, taking the shirt from him.

Wordlessly he complied, just picking up the chair easily to return it to the office. By the time he returned, Tabby was in the pj shirt, under her blankets. To his annoyance, however, she was on her phone.

Moon took it, making her whine loudly. “No tiny internet.” He scolded, “Sleep.”

Tabby gave an exasperated sigh, flopping back. “Why are you so mean?” She huffed.

“No mean.” Moon stepped closer, placing her phone on the nightstand before tucking her in. She opened her eyes to watch. “Tight.” He hummed, “Bed bugs no bite.”

Her lips cracked a smile with amusement. “Do I get a Goodnight kiss too?” She asked cheekily.

Moon covered her face with his hand, pushing her into the pillow gently as he growled, “Brat.”

“So is that a no?” She giggled.

“Brats get no kisses.” He informed with a frown, pulling his hand away.

“Remember that.” She winked at him, making his fans kick up.

He grumbled under his breath, going to leave. Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Goodnight Moonman.” Her voice was soft.

He looked back, annoyance forgotten. After a long moment he gently spoke back, “Goodnight…starlight.”

~

“Alright, that should have overridden the language filter.” Tabby smiled, looking up from her computer.

Sun was sitting on the desk, a cord running between his head and the computer tower. She shifted a bit excitedly.

“Well?” She swirled the chair more towards him.

“Well?” He echoed, tapping the tips of his fingers together.

“Test it out!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up excitedly.

His rays drooped a bit, the nervous twitching kicking up a notch. He started to stammer a bit, looking worriedly.

“Come on, it’s just to test.” Her smile faltered, “Just one ‘naughty’ word.”

“T-That’s not a-“ he was cut off.

“I’m going to dim the lights and ask Moon.” She sighed leaning forward.

He threw out his hands, halting her movements, as he huffed, “I am capable of anything he is!”

“Then let me have it.”

“…well”

“Lights being dimmed.” She warned, hearing the beginning of a protest before the overhead light flipped off. The only illumination now was from the rainbow LEDs from all her electronics.

Sun went limp for a moment, telltale clicks and the sound of sliding metal as he switched over to Moon were audible.

Moon’s optics blinked to life, a red glow adding to the room. He sat up, tuning his faceplate towards her.

“Fuck.” His voice box rasped, deadpan.

“Thank you.” She giggled, nose crinkling a bit.

He made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning back. “Fuck.” He spoke again, trying to elicit another reaction.

He did indeed get a reaction, just not what he was looking for.

Tabby swiveled back towards the monitor, “Don’t make me regret it.” After typing for a moment, she asked, “How much ass chewing are you getting from Sun?”

Moon smiled knowingly, but didn’t answer.

~

“We looked up the thing.” Sun informed, voice a bit lower.

“The thing?” Tabby questioned, not turning away from her computer.

“The um…the…ass…eating?” He whispered the word ‘ass’ nervously.

Tabby straightened, brows furrowing as his words processed. She suddenly burst into laughter, making Sun’s frown deepen.

“Why?” She managed through tears, “Why would you look that up?!”

His rays retracted, looking away. “You said it and I didn’t know what it meant…” he informed.

“I assure you, I meant it differently.” She leaned back, catching her breath.

“It can be used as a…creative…insult.” He agreed, going on, “But the rest of it too.”

“Mhm?” She smiled knowingly, only imagining what horrors his internet search dredged up.

“Humans…like that?” He asked curiously, voice wary.

“Some definitely do.” She nodded, “You’d be hard pressed to find something someone isn’t into.”

“Eeeeeeeehhhhhh.” Sun’s rays retracted fully with that realization making Tabby laughter all over again.

While they were cleaning up after dinner a knock came to the door. Sun turned, a smile faltering.

“Did you order something?” Tabby asked, moving towards the door.

“No…” he responded from the kitchen.

She carefully opened it just enough to peek outside, guard dropping almost instantly.

A woman stood on the other side, looking flustered. Tabby recognized her as the single mother that lived a level down, they always had nice interactions in the past but she really didn’t know much about her. If she remembered correctly, her name was Mia.

“I’m your neighbor..” the woman started, eyes red and swollen.

“From D5?” Tabby asked.

“Y-Yes.” She nodded.

“Is everything okay?” She asked nervously, “I’m sorry if it’s the noise…”

“No! No…” the woman shifted a bit before she blurted out, “I already asked Samantha and my normal babysitter quit last week. I don’t know who else to ask.”

Tabby glanced worriedly back into the apartment to Sun. His rays were retracted.

“It’s my kids.” She tried to explain, “I don’t know who to ask, you are always so nice to us and I wouldn’t even ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

Tabby nodded, worry thickening.

She swallowed, “Could you please watch my kids, just for tonight?” She begged, desperation in her tone, “There’s a family emergency and I need to go to the hospital as soon as I can.”

Tabby caught Sun nodding, practically vibrating with excitement.

Mia took the pause as reservations, pressing, “Just for tonight, they are good kids. And I’ll pay you!”

“Yes.” Tabby nodded, “I can.”

“Oh thank you!” She looked as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders, going on to say she’d pack them bags and bring them up soon.

Tabby closed the door, that worry turning into a pit in her stomach. She suddenly was hugged tightly by an overexcited Sun.

Mia returned quickly, a small girl in tow. The girl was around five, with dark skin, expressive brown eyes and a mess of curls in two Afro buns. Her pjs were bright pink like the backpack she carried, with colorful clips in her hair. The mother carried a car seat and bags, a baby boy sleeping peacefully inside the seat.

Tabby held open the door, the girl wandering in as Mia expressed her thanks again.

“It’s Mr.Sun!” The small child yelled, bouncing up and down while pointing.

“Dakota!” Sun exclaimed, mimicking her movements of over excitement.

The girl squealed, running towards him and hugging his legs. Sun scooped her up, smiling wide, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” She nodded, adding, “Mommy said I couldn’t go see you anymore.”

“I didn’t think they could…” Mia admitted softly, confusion on her face.

“I used to work at the Plex.” Tabby quickly explained, “After the fire they were just going to scrap the animatronics and I didn’t want that to happen to Sun…”

The mother nodded, “He was wonderful with the kids, the daycare shutting down did a number on us.”

“Please don’t tell.” Tabby begged.

The mother smiled, “You are doing me a favor by watching them,” she looked up to Sun and Dakota catching up, adding, “And I’m thankful she’s in good hands.”

“You look different.” Dakota looked over his face critically, reaching up to touch the new faceplate.

“I've had a little work done.” Sun pretended to fluff his nonexistent hair with his free hand making the child giggle.

~

“Thank you again.” Mia handed over packed food and a list of needs, “Sun knows about the kids, but I have a list ready of when to put them to bed and when to feed them. I’ll call after I find out what’s happening at the hospital.”

“Good luck.” Tabby nodded, taking the items, “They will be safe here.

The mother said her goodbyes, kissing her babies and telling them to be good. The boy was still asleep while the girl was just overjoyed to see Sun, they hardly noticed their mother leaving.

Tabby put the food in the fridge, turning to see Sun knelt down talking to the child.

“Want to see our box fort?” Sun offered, adding, “It really needs to be decorated more but I don’t know if I can handle it all be myself…”

“I can help!” Dakota offered instantly, “I brought stickers!”

“Stickers?!” Sun exclaimed.

“Yea!” She ran for her bag.

Sun straightened as the small child dug through the backpack. Tabby wandered up to his side, asking softly, “So you’ll be alright?”

“More than.” He nodded, “We are going to have so much fun!”

“Good.” Tabby smiled, “Let me know if you need any help though, okay?”

“You bet!” Sun beamed before moving to follow the child as she ran into the living room, careful to pick up the car seat with the baby on the way.

She worked a bit on her computer, coming back into the main area for a drink. Sun was standing in the border between the kitchen and living room holding the baby while watching the older girl play.

Sun rocked back and forth softly, patting the baby’s back in an effort to burp him, his optics were half lidded with contentment, looking fully in his element and happy. Tabby has never really seen him with the children when they worked in the daycare, it usually pickup time by the time she clocked in. She watched him, how every movement was gentle, something inside her fluttering about.

He’d be such a good dad..

She thought to herself.

Sun glanced up to her, giving her a warm smile. It made that feeling thicken, she quickly looked away.

He was her roommate, and an animatronic. Not to mention they’d just recently had a talk about boundaries and space…

She couldn’t be weird now, pushing the feelings down.

Dakota loved cartoons, content to color on the floor while the tv played. She had been one of Sun’s more better behaved kids.

She helped Sun decorate their box fort, drawing a whole field of flowers along the bottom edge. Sun showed her his glitter pens, both working together to add sparkle to each flower petal.

“Hey…Tabitha?” Sun asked softly, the time was getting fairly late by that time.

Tabby looked up, unused to hearing her full name from him.

“I might have to cash in that offer.” He looked a bit ashamed, rubbing his hands together. Tabby noticed he had stickers stuck all over his exoskeleton, a bit of glitter glue staining his hoodie sleeves as well.

“Is everything alright?” She stood, a note of worry in her tone.

“Oh everything is fine!” He quickly soothed, voice low, “It’s just that…well…”

He looked away, “I just put the kids down to sleep, could you take over from here?”

“Like watch them?”

“Yea.” He looked back, nodding, “Just be close if they fuss.”

“Sure.” She followed him back into the main area.

The living room was dimly lit, little pallets made on the rug with extra blankets and pillows. Sun was careful to stay in the light of the kitchen.

Tabby tiptoed around to check on the kids, both sleeping peacefully. Satisfied with their current status, she went back into the light of the kitchen.

“It’s this…Moon’s part?” Tabby asked cautiously.

Sun’s smile faded, taking a moment to answer, “Moon isn’t comfortable…”

That answer could mean multiple things, but Tabby chose not to pry further. Sun seemed uncomfortable as well around the subject.

She padded around the island to lean against the counter next to him.

“Did you know we weren’t designed for the Daycare?” Sun finally asked, breaking the silence but also careful to keep his voice soft.

“The theater?” Tabby answered, “I read a little about it when I first was assigned that side of the Plex.”

“Yea…” he nodded, looking off in the distance, seemingly in thought.

After a moment of silence he went on, “We were a performer first, a caregiver second. Different stages, but the kids never stopped enjoying our act.” He smiled warmly in remembrance.

“Do you miss them?”

“Every day…” Sun admitted, the natural mirth in his voice absent. He rubbed his wrists a bit in thought, “They were a handful, but they made me feel needed…important.

“After the theater closed we were afraid of being scrapped…we wouldn’t have been the first.

“The daycare gave us a second chance, and the kids always looked at us like we were special, not just a hunk of metal that could be replaced..”

He let out a sigh.

They stood there in the kitchen for a long while, just watching the small forms of children as they slept. It was peaceful.

“I’m happy to see some of them again.” He murmured, “To know they are ok.”

The baby woke multiple times in the night, Sun needing to carefully instruct how to help from the light of the kitchen. Tabby slept on the couch so as to be close, jumping up to see to the baby.

She was nowhere near the level of confidence with children as Sun, even holding the baby looked awkward. But they figured things out, Sun giving a soft smile seeing her rock and patting the child back to sleep.

Despite her lack of grace with the task, she had a natural gentleness about her when holding the baby. It was a good first step.

As soon as the sun rose, the animatronic wandered back into the main room to take back over. Tabby had to go to work in the morning, needing an unhealthy amount of caffeine beforehand.

By the time she said her goodbyes Sun was making breakfast for the little ones. He assured her he could handle the responsibility of safely returning them to their mother during the day.

Tabby’s Email:

SunnyBoi420: They had to go back home.

TabbyCat666: I’m sorry Sun

SunnyBoi420: They are safe and where they are supposed to be.

TabbyCat666: You gonna be ok?

SunnyBoi420: We will.

ManintheMoon290: sad

TabbyCat666: Moon ;0; Not you too, you’ll make me cry. Maybe you can see them again, they live really close?

SunnyBoi420: I hope so! Don’t worry about us, okay.

TabbyCat666: I’ll see you in a few hours.

SunnyBoi420: Be safe, we miss you!

Sun was quiet when she returned, dejected as he wandered around the quiet apartment. He wasn’t much for conversation, Tabby giving him space.

“I’m going to go get some stuff done on the computer, okay?” She informed softly.

“Okay…” Sun nodded, not looking away from the window.

The hours ticked by quickly, Tabby not realizing how late it was until the sound of breaking glass roused her away from the screen. Her stomach sank with apprehension.

The walk down the hall felt unnaturally long, the apartment too quiet in the wake of the previous sound.

Every light was off in both the kitchen and living room, the balcony curtains pulled shut. The darkness was inky black, just small pinpoints of light from the few electronics scattered around like stars.

“Moon?” Tabby called out, hearing a plate break. Worry shot through her, calling again, a bit more intensely, “Moon?”

A shape shifted in the darkness; single red optic coming into view, one single orb of red like a blood moon.

She sucked in a breath, realizing his movements were jerky and tight.

He shifted forward, feet crunching the broken bits of porcelain. Tabby tried to take a step back, head turning just enough to look down the hallway, an escape.

That small lapse of direct eye contact was enough, Moon covering the distance between them in a moment. She was pushed back against the wall, breath knocked from her lungs.

Red optic blinding.

His hand enveloped her throat, just tight enough to make a point. He flexed a bit, faceplate tilting closer.

“What do you have inside?” His voice rasped out.

Tabby gulped, the feeling straining under his hold. “Organs…bones…blood.” She whispered, “All the parts that make me work, like you.”

“Like me?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah.” She tried to nod, “The parts are different b-but it's what makes us work.”

“Hee hee hee.” Moon droned out, face getting closer. He tightened his hold, making her gasp and grab at his arm.

“How easy will it be to fix you?” He asked, voice so low it was hardly audible, “If you break?”

Tabby squeezed her eyes shut, trembling. Tears ran down her cheeks, breath shallow under his iron grip.

Moon froze, optics going black. Tabby cracked open an eye, seeing him go completely dark for a moment.

He blinked back awake, processing her in his hold. Moon released her instantly, taking a shaking step back.

Tabby gasped, knees wobbly as she leaned against the wall for support. Redness already bloomed on her skin.

Moon’s optics flicks between her and his hands, almost confused. A whirring sound came from him before he dropped to all fours and disappeared into the darkness.

She stumbled down the hallway, just wanting to make distance between them. Going into her office, she shut the door, moving a file cabinet in-front of it. She trembled a bit, falling into her desk chair.

As the fear subsided her mind wandered back to the old schematic she’d looked over.

The moon animatronic was designed with a cool blue to his eyes, a calming color…

Her chest clenched, “Fuck.” She cursed, turning towards her computer.

Over the last few weeks she’s saved so much data about the two on her computer, compiled information to better fix and maintain them. Her fingers flew over the keys as her eyes scanned over the screen.

The more she dug the more her panic rose. Little occurrences over the last weeks making more sense; just seemingly small bouts of anger falling into place.

Moon still had the virus…

Tabby worked at the computer all night, eyes burning and throat dry as she toiled. It was her job to catch these things, to fix problems in the programs when they arose…and she’d missed it. Or maybe she was being ignorant to the signs on purpose.

With every hour that ticked by, another horrid realization started to sink deep in her gut: She couldn’t fix it…

Most of the virus was connected to the mainframe and was severed when they were snapped free of it. Some bits of code, however, was so interlaced into their programming that removal would come at the cost of important software.

It had wormed itself into their personality, into their memories and self. The small echoes of the virus so deeply rooted with them it would never come out without killing everything that was connected.

She kept trying, running simulation after simulation in a desperate attempt to find some solution.

It was her job….

A soft knock came to the door, making her jump. Her heart thumped around in her chest like a caged animal.

“Tabitha?” came Sun’s voice, thick with concern.

“S-Sun?” She called back, voice strained from a dry throat. Without waiting for a response she stood to move the cabinet.

Unlocking the door, she carefully opened it.

Sun was there, rays retracted.

Tabby hugged him, shaking a bit.

Sun hugged her back, leaning down to softly place his faceplate on the crown of her head. He glanced up, optics widening. “Have you been up all night?” He asked worriedly.

Tabby broke the hug, stepping back a bit to answer, “Uh..yea, yes.” She went back to the computer, sitting down to explain, “I don’t know why it took so long but I finally realized Moon still had the virus…So I've been trying to…” her voice perturbed off.

Sun could see the status updates of the most recent simulation from the doorway.

“I…I don’t think I can fix it.” Her voice was hardly over a whisper.

“Starlight…” Sun came closer, reaching out for her to offer comfort.

She finally looked up at him, her resolve shattering. Tears welled from her eyes and she sobbed, “I can’t fix it.”

“Hey, hey.” Sun hummed, going to his knees to hug her closely.

“I can’t purge the system without hurting you!” Tabby cried, hands over her face, “Getting rid of the virus completely would get rid of you too.”

Sun patted her back, optics downcast. “It’s alright, Starlight.” He soothed, “We know…”

“You know?!” She looked up at him, mascara running down her face.

Sun gave a shallow nod, face solemn, “The virus is rooted too deep, mixed up with what makes us unique…It's been so long…It's not your fault.”

“But I’m supposed to take care of you, and fix you.” She argued, crying afresh.

“And you do!” Sun pressed, taking her by the shoulders gently, “But some things can’t be fixed.”

Sun moved to hug her again, this time Tabby clinging onto him. She couldn’t stop crying now that she’d started, breathes coming in hiccuping gulps. Sun scooped her up, lifting her easily as he stood. He cradled her, carefully taking her to the bedroom.

By the time he’d set her down in bed and retrieved the tissues she’d started to calm, sobs quiet and bubbling. Tabby thankfully took the tissues, cleaning up her stained face as she caught her breath. Sun sat on the bed’s edge, hands folded and looking at his feet.

Once she’d calmed enough he finally spoke, “What happens to us now?”

“What?” Tabby looked up, confused.

His rays began to retract, “Now that you know we can’t be fixed. That we are….dangerous.” He couldn’t look at her, fear evident in his stiff shoulders, “We can’t stay with you.” He spoke the words as if they were certain, an inevitability that darkened over their future.

“What? No.” She sat up more.

“No?” Sun echoed, head swiveling towards her.

“No, why can’t you stay?”

“You could be in danger.” Sun stated.

“Moon is…chaotic.” She agreed, “But we can manage it, we can look for the signs. Right?”

Sun held her gaze for many moments, “Starlight…” he finally spoke, “This may never get better than what it is right now. We are much better here than how we were at the Plex but-“

She cut him off, “We can handle it.” Tabby reached for his hand, Sun accepting the contact immediately. “This is out of your control, sometimes people act in ways they wouldn’t because of something deep inside. It happens to humans too.” She squeezed his hand, “We will handle it; even the bad days, and we’ll see them just as that: bad days.”

Sun broke this time, pulling her by the hand into another hug. Tabby made a sound as the air was squeezed from her as the animatronic made sobbing staticky sounds from his voicebox, chanting how much they would try.

Tabby queerly listened, too exhausted to give anything else meaningful to the interaction. Finally calming enough to realize she was drifting, Sun quieted and helped her back to laying down.

She let him tuck her in, looking up to him with puffy red eyes. “Last night was just a bad day…” she reassured.

“…yes.” Sun agreed, gently brushing hair from her face, large hands softly petting her a bit to follow.

Her eyes drifted with the soft pleasure the simple act brought. “Will you do something for me, Sun?”

“Anything.” He answered honestly, a smile at his lips.

“Work together with me?” She asked, adding, “For Moon? Maybe we can catch the bad days before they get too bad.”

“No more secrets.” Sun agreed, “I’ll let you know if our systems feel off in any way.”

She nodded, giving a weak smile.

Sun stepped away from the bed, padding over to the plushie shelf, retrieving one. “Here.” Sun hummed, bringing the Roxane plush to the bed, carefully tucking it next to Tabby, “Roxy is very good at chasing away any danger.”

Tabby gave a worn out giggle, but didn’t question the sentiment.

He softly closed the door on the way out, wandering into the kitchen, lost in thought.

“Moon?” He whispered.

Silence.

“Moony?” He tried again, hand coming up to his faceplate.

Moon was quiet, withdrawn and shut off from him.

Like before…

“Hehehehe…” A strained laugh trickled from his voice-box, optics falling on the broken glass and porcelain around the kitchen. “Clean up, clean up!” He smiled wildly, kneeling down to start picking each shard up with manic glee.

[cinnabarsaga]

Discussion today spurned some sketches as relate to uniforms, and clothing items, as they relate to tails. So I explored some of that graphically.

The sera have a few anatomical distinctions that set them apart, horns, long ears, long tongue, and tails to name the obvious. Tails in particular are fairly important to the Sera, as they are fairly dexterous. Serving often as third hands, in addition to serving in nonverbal communication, and aiding in balance; their tails are fairly important. Historically numerous forms of adornment and jewellery might have been fashioned for it, by nations across the continents. They however, were unencumbered by complex garments, and the tail draped naturally through tunic, toga, or cloak. However, as fashion evolved in complexity and comfort, so too did the need to accommodate their tail.

Modern garments for the Sera follow construction trends similar to trends in western fashion on earth with some unique developments to account for their anatomy. Lacking stretch fit fabrics, most breeches and trousers sit at the natural waist, as the base of the tail more or less springs from around the hip bone, and parts a little lower. As a result, the top of the pants requires an additional flap in order to stay tight around the natural waist. Belts, or suspenders are often used; but like traditional high wasted breeches, when well fitted, will stay in place on the hips.

The flap on most trousers is an M shaped panel made from one or two pieces with one fixed and the other open, with a button flap, snap, or zipper up the rear. However, often they have a second set of buttons for symmetry, or for an additional accessory.

In summer, most sera allow their tails to hang free and unhindered. In winter, however, weather conditions can get cold enough to cause discomfort or injury. So, many suit separates, come with an optional tail “sock” or sleeve. Some may also knit a tubular scarf to serve the same function. Generally constructed of a tube of fabric, sometimes with pleats or folds which allow the spade to pass, they can range from simple cuts, to complex multi part garments. Most snap or button into the existing fasteners, some use the suspender rear buttons, but a universal version exists which clips into the inseam of the pants or belt. Often lined, or with seams fringed or flocked in yarn, to keep out the cold. Some offer a button flap or zipper to allow the sleep to be temporarily slid back, to give better grip when holding items. However, sometimes a glove may be used in sustained cold weather use.

Generally, working or combat uniforms on Cerak, call for tail sleeves or “socks,” for protection or camouflage. In the case of military uniforms of the Central Republic, sleeves are the default for most uniforms after the world war. The bright skin color of the average seraf is often a dead give away which makes them a target. Loosing one’s tail is almost as embarrassing as loosing one’s horns. So the sleeve is used to supplement uniform’s camouflage. However, the uniform has an optional tip. Many rangers and sappers preferred carrying an offhand weapon, such as a tail knife or throwing knives, which the fabric interfered with a strong grip. As a result they tool to cutting off the bag end of their uniform. Noticing this, changes were made to the uniforms in accommodation. Likewise an official service issue tail glove was considered but never officially adopted.

(Also pictured, is a uniform cap, which converts to winter use by means of flaps stowed atop the cap when unused. Not unlike a budenovka, or ushanka, they fold down and cover the cheeks, chin, and ears, with pockets to cover their long conical lobes).

Many sera who find themselves on Earth, with or without disguise, find the garments fitted to human fashions, ill suited. Beyond the difference in average stature, (with sera on average being taller); the issue of tail placement and waist proves problematic. The lower waist of modern pants tends to sit either not low enough, or too low to allow the tail to comfortably sit. When concealing their tail, it often is tucked into the pantleg, which for long durations leads to muscle cranps and lower back pain. As alternative, some have taken to wrapping their tail around their waist like a belt or cummerbund, to the same effect. When not concealed, the tail often sits atop the inseam and beltloop, which for some may look akin to the “sagging” fashion choice, albeit unintentionally. For these reasons, Sera with some experience in Earth fashion have resorted to buying vintage high waisted pants, or women’s pants with a high waist, in order to have a more comfortable fit.

[ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo]

Strange Magic

So this is part one of my Billy Hargrove x OC fic.

It's not very much an original idea, I think almost everyone has a story like this in all honesty. But it loosely follows the end of season two and all of season three.

Banners and Dividers created by Saradika, please give them a follow and look into their work! ❤️

The Mercedes practically jumped the small dips in the road.

Will, poor Will.

Why did this shit keep happening to such a sweet kid? The black car skidded to a stop in the road, parking. The woman grabbed onto the frame work, hoisting herself up to stand in her convertible.

“Eleven?” She asked in shock. The young child turned quickly.

“Kate?” The girl asked.

“Get your ass in this fucking car.” She pointed at her passenger seat with her thumb. The supposedly dead, very special young girl raced toward her friend’s car. Kate fell into the driver seat in shock.

“Why do you look like an Alice Cooper groupie?” She asked as El pulled her seatbelt on.

“I am a vigilante, I found one of my sisters and we took on bad guys.” Kate gunned the gas.

“Alright then.”

“I need to get to Mike, they’re in danger.”

“Everyone is at the Byers. Will is sick, again.” El nodded gravely.

Everyone waited with baited breath as the door swung open and El stepped in. El rushed into Mike’s arms and they hugged tightly.

“Kate, you came!” Dustin realized as the young woman shut the door quietly, leaning against it.

“Katherine.” Joyce realized, “We didn’t- You're supposed to be in Michigan, it must have taken you all day to get here.” She hugged the younger woman close.

“Three hours but don't tell Hops, he’ll have an aneurysm if he realizes how fast I was driving.” She rushed into Jonathan’s arms next, Nancy looked away discreetly as he pulled her off her feet. Her thighs wrapped around his hips as she squeezed him tightly in her arms.

“I came as soon as you called, tell me everything.” She whispered quietly to him. Johnathan sat her back on her feet.

xXx

It all started in fifth grade (fourth for Johnathan) during the shared recess. When the local bully at the time, Vance, sent a dodge ball flying straight at where Jonathan was trying to fix his first camera. Kate responded in turn by hurling a dodgeball toward his tiny crotch. The boy went down hard, and before the gym teacher could pull her off she had flipped him over and punted a second straight into his nose.

His rich parents wanted to press charges and Hopper had been called up to the school where he talked them down. He promised he would drive her home and talk to her parents after he sent the feisty ten year old out to his car. He lectured her the entire drive and she only responded that Vance had gotten what he deserved. Once they arrived at her house, the child pulled a key from under the mat and let herself and Hopper into the eerily quiet house where she plopped herself and her bag down at a kitchen table. The fridge and pantry were stocked to the nines and there was power and running water.

“What time does your mom come in from work?” He called out to her. She snorted back as she started on math homework.

“She doesnt work.”

“Where is she?”

“Probably halfway to Tenbucktoo.”

"She's gone? Like gone gone?" He asked. The girl nodded, "You know it's illegal to lie to a cop?"

"It's really not but I'm telling the truth. Mom took one of her 'me time' trips." The girl put air quotes around the name. "She gone for like six days out of the week every week, give or take. When she is here, she drinks and sleeps."

"Who takes care of you?" He asked.

"Me, myself, and I. Do you know how to do long division?" She asked. Hopper scoffed.

"Not really, kid , not really."

"Shit." She mumbled going back to her homework.

"I do make a mean macaroni."

"I have Kraft, I know how to cook." She waved him off.

"Kid, I can't let you stay here by yourself. I have to call it in."

"I'm fine, I know how to do everything." She shrugged.

"What if there's a fire?"

"Electrical and grease use baking soda; anything else uses water. Call the fire department."

"What if you need to go somewhere?"

"Walk, roller blades, bike, and skateboard. I have my pick."

"A bad person trying to break in."

"I hear the Hawkins PD has a wonderful officer named Hopper." She sassed back, crossing her hands in front of her with a smirk.

"What if you can't get to the phone?"

"In that case I would just get out." Hopper threw his hands up, the damn kid had an answer for everything. "There's an easy solution to all this, you could stay, then I won't be by myself."

"Kid thats-"

"Kate. It's Kate. Okay? Not kid, Kate. And you'd stay here while I'm here, like a babysitter, I could go with you to your job. Nothing ever happens in Hawkins."

"Let me work something out."

Working something out was driving her from school every day to the Byers residents.

Kate would spend the nights her mother wasn't home curled up in mountains of blankets on the Byers couch. By midnight ending up with Jonathan sleeping on the floor beside her and Will curled up on the opposite end.

Jonathan introduced her to his mom and little brother. His little brother introduced her to his friends. The rest was history.

When she got older she became The Babysitter. Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. Her kids.

And of course when shit hit the fan in Hawkins, she was the first they had come to. Dragging her down the rabbit hole of secret government children, labs, and upside down hell hole of Hawkins. And DND as well but she'd never admit that she took a liking to the game after watching them play it while she was babysitting.

"Holy shit." Kate was mumbling, standing entirely too close to Johnathan in the Byer kitchen. He was giving her the Clift notes of everything that had happened, leaned against the sink, hand on her hip as she had her arms crossed around her in the cold house. Nancy bitterly though that if she would put on some actual clothes she wouldn't be cold.

It wasn't that Nancy and Kate didn't get along. It was just- Nancy tried. Nancy did all of the work full stop. She studied, she was nice to her teachers, nice to other classmates, she worked for her good grades and great social life. Kate did not. She didn't study, she was always back-sassing her teachers, and shit the only people Kate was nice in their highschool was Nancy herself, Johnathan, and sometimes Steve. But Kate always had straight A's, people approached her in the hallways offering friendship, Joyce and Hopper acted like she was their long lost kid, or daughter in-law.

The only difference between Nancy and Kate was simple; Kate was hot. Blonde, tall, striking green eyes that seemed they could stare into your soul, great tits huge ass. She had a weird rock-farmer vibe with her cut up band shirts, jeans, and boots. Her hair was that messy sort of curly that made her look effortlessly hot. Half the damn time though it was wrestled into these messy buns that always somehow looked perfect.

If Nancy was honest, she was jealous. She felt like she didn't stand a chance.

"Nance." She jolted, speaking of the devil.

"Yeah?" Nancy asked not unkindly.

"You ok? You were kind of gone."

"Yeah I'm fine." Kate looked at her with so much love and respect, the guilt instantly bubbled.

"Joh-" she stopped as fighting started in the living room.

"You've been hiding her this whole time!" Mike shoved Hopper.

"Shit." Nancy cursed. Kate squeezed her hand once.

"Mike!" Kate scolded, walking toward them. Hopper grabbed him.

"Hey let's talk. Alone." He pulled him into a room.

Arms circled around her, tangled almost impossible to place with their correct body. Kate laughed happily. Four out of the usual eight but she'd take what she could get.

"Hey guys." She sighed trying to hug both Lucas and Dustin. Her eyes caught the new pair of bright green eyes, "Hey there Cherrybomb."

"I'm Max…" Kate tried to untangle from the boys, laughing when they refused to let loose of her.

"It's nice to meet you Max." The boys rushed off to hug El and Max leaned around Kate to watch, "I won't be offended, you can ditch me to go meet Eleven. She is totally the coolest." Max smiled at her, starting to walk off.

"You should meet my older brother, well, step brother. I kinda think you guys would get along. Most of the time he's a dick but the times when he's nice, that's the Billy I think you'd like, you just have to give him a chance first."

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever meet him."

xXx

They were splitting up. Kate stood to one side of the living room with her arms crossed. The remaining members of her child antortage crowding around her. She shook as Hopper carried Will's body toward the car.

"Wait!" She called out pushing herself out of the door, leaning around Hopper to get to Will. "Can I just-" she ran her fingers through Will's shaggy bowl cut, kissing his clammy forehead. "Just hang in there, okay my love?" She whispered to him, "You are so brave." Joyce rubbed her shoulder. "It's going to be okay." She tearily promised Joyce. "Will is so strong."

"You can come with us." Johnathan told her. Kate shook her head.

"I wanna stay with my remaining kids, make sure they're safe. I know you and Nance can take care of Will."

Johnathan pulled her into a bone crushing hug, pulling apart just enough to lay his forehead against hers. She pulled away from him, pushing him gently toward the car. Nancy waited against the passenger side door. Kate went back inside, locking the door tightly.

Crash "The door man get the door."

"STEVE HARRINGTON what the fuck are you doing with that thing?" Kate stood in the kitchen doorway.

"He- Dustin- it's a groundbreaking scientific discovery."

"Oh you're about to have a discovery. One of how far my foot can go up your pert little ass! Get that thing out of the house."

"But it was Dustin's idea."

"Dustin's a child!" She reminded him shrilly, lovingly stroking Dustin's curls, "You're an adult! You know better than he does!" She rolled her eyes walking away from the kitchen.

"Okay, keep shoving." Dustin smiled.

"What, Kate just said-"

"Kate'll never know." Dustin slammed the door on the fridge.

"You're going to get me killed." Steve sighed.

Kate went to clean vaguely listening as the kids argued with Steve that is until things got suspiciously quiet.

"Guys what's going on?" They were all backing away from the door. Suddenly it was forced open and the prettiest man Kate had ever seen stepped through.

He looked like Hollywood with his permed mullet and sexy clothes. And he was madder than a wet viper.

"Well well well. Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise." He was walking closer and closer. Dustin grabbed Kate's hand tightly. "I thought I told you to stay away from him Max."

"Listen, I can explain." Kate tried to step in, Billy didn't even acknowledge her as his eyes panned back to Lucas.

"Shut it. Little girl."

"Oh shit." Mike mumbled.

"Billy, go away." Max was telling him.

"You disobeyed me and you know what happens when you disobey me." Kate let go of Dustin's hand, moving closer to Lucas, Max, and this punk. "I break things." He snatched Lucas up by his jacket. Everyone started yelling.

"Since Max won't listen to me, maybe you will. You stay away from her. Stay away from her." and Lucas kicked wildly, hitting him in the balls as Kate grabbed him around his waist moving him out of Billy's path. Billy doubled over grabbing for his nuts, throwing down Lucas' jacket that Kate had pulled him out of.

“You are so dead Sinclar!” Billy stood back up and instead of Lucas it was Kate. She shoved him back hard, pinning him against the doorway. Dustin cackled.

“You’re gonna get it now, kick his ass Kate!” There was something in the way Max shrunk back her eyes shifting nervously. But Kate was already seeing red.

“You don't put your goddamn meaty paws on any of my kids ever again. You wanna push, shove, swing, or beat on somebody. You swing on me.” She was too far gone to see how Billy flinched at the idea of ever hitting her, or any woman for that matter. “But I can promise you. I’m ten times quicker and ten meaner than you could ever imagine and I will put you in a goddamn hospital eating your meals through a straw. Dont. Touch. My. Kids. And that includes that beautiful little girl.” she backed off letting him go, Billy started to speak. Holding up his hands in surrender.

“Hey! Get away from her!” Steve yanked him around punching him in the jaw. Billy started cackling, the previous fight Kate shocked out of him back with a new fever.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh! I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone has been telling me so much about.” Steve put up a hand, stopping Billy from stepping up to him.

"Get out." Steve ordered darkly. Kate shuffled the kids behind her, Max included.

His pride or impressing the hot girl?

Hot girls come and go. Billy was a selfish man. His eyes locked on Kate.

"Is he one of your 'kids'?" Billy asked coldly. Kate sucked a harsh breath through her nose looking murderous. Billy swung suddenly and Steve ducted, popping back up and knocking him into the counter.

"Yes Steve! Kick his ass!!!" The kids cheered. Steve gt a few good punches in, but Billy quickly got the upper hand.

"Nobody tells me what to do." Billy headbutted Steve tossing him across the living room before flipping him over and wailing on him. Kate rushed forward wrapping herself tightly around one of his arms. Billy flung her off and she landed harshly against the floor next to Steve. There was a sharp pain in his neck and he grabbed for the syringe, turning toward Max.

“The fuck is this shit?” He asked her, throwing the almost full syringe to the floor. Kate’s eyes rolled to the back of her skull and she fell limp.

"Kate! Kate, get up!" One of the kids was calling for her and turned his head drowsily to where she was still laying. "Shit shit shit. Katie!"

She was crumpled in a heap next to Harrington. Why wasn’t she moving? The world spun and Billy fell back. Max grabbed for Steve’s bat.

“From here on out. You leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

“Screw you.” Billy mumbled on the floor. Max swung, the force of it stuck the bat into the floor.

“Say you understand! Say it! Say it!!” Max screamed at him.

“I understand.” Max snatched up Billy’s keys while he was out and they dragged Steve to the car after putting a pillow under Kate’s head.

They surrounded her sleeping form.

“Kate.” Mike and Dustin shook her gently .

“Is she ok?” Max was asking.

“Watch her head, watch her head.” Dustin was chanting as they tried to move her toward the couch.

“Nuh uh. She got slammed by a Demogorgon like really hard into a tree and somethings been wrong with her head ever since.” Lucas told Max.

“Hoist.” Dustin told them as they gently tried to pick her up, “Max just keep her head steady. That’s why she was in Michigan. They sent her to a special hospital. She started getting these quiet seizures and headaches.” Kate wasn’t exactly super heavy but they were just kids and they were trying to be gentle with her. They had just pushed, shoved, and dragged Steve out to the Camaro. Kate groaned rolling onto her side.

"Kate!"

"Too loud." She responded.

"You passed out, are you okay?"

“I'm good. I'm fine.” She told them. Pushing her knees underneath her to try and stand, she looked over to the passed out Billy, "Good job Cherrybomb."

“You good to stay here with him?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah I’ll be fine with the Rob Lowe wannabe.” Kate sighed. Dustin giggled.

“Well he sure as shit aint Patrick Swayze or Tom Cruise.” She pushed herself up onto the couch. “Be safe.” She told them. After a while she drug Billy over toward the couch, putting a pillow under his big ass head.

"You are one heavy motherfucker." She cursed his sleeping form.

Time was moving slowly, minutes seemed like hours. Every now and again Billy would make this weird gagging noise in the back of his throat and she would poke him with the broom stick until he would groan and prove that he hadn't choked on his own blood.

xXx

Billy woke up with a groan, rolling over onto his back. His head was swimming.

“What the fuck was that shit?!” He cursed.

“Act like a beast, get tranqed, motherfucker.” she was up on the couch in a similar position to him.

“You know you got a dirty mouth, chica.”

“Oh my god! I should have just let you asphyxiate on your own blood.” Her head lolled off the couch and Billy reached up to scratch gently at her scalp. “Mmmm, nevermind I’m glad you lived." She stood. "Come on." She said gently. Billy got his feet under him as well and followed her woozily to the back of the house. She grabbed the salt off of the kitchen counter as they went and pushed Billy into the bathroom.

Kate fished out an extra toothbrush from under the sink and hopped up onto the counter. She plugged the drain and ran hot water in the sink.

"Rinse." She ordered him, handing him a Dixie cup of faucet water.

"I don't like when people tell me what to do."

"And I don't particularly care. Unstoppable force vs immovable object, let's go." She tipped the contents into his mouth. "Swish."

"It's warm." He mumbled around the water.

"Swish more, the heat will help if you have any scrapes or cuts from your teeth." She pressed the empty cup back to his lips. "Spit." Chunking that one in the trash she grabbed another, filling it with more hot water and sprinkling in some salt. "Swish again, hot stuff. It's going to be yucky but it helps." Swish, spit, into the trash, repeat. Until nurse Kate was sure the water was clear enough. Billy grabbed for the tooth brush and Kate pulled it away.

"What gives?"

"That's mine."

"I wanna brush my teeth."

"Ain't that a damn shame." She popped the brush into her mouth.

"Bitch."

"Dickhead." She pulled a washcloth from the hook, dipping it into the warm sink water. She held Billy's face gently as she wiped the blood from his face. Billy leaned against the sink putting his hands on both sides of her hips, standing in-between her legs.

This was horribly domestic. The power surge around them and Kate looked up sharply. She sighed something Billy couldn't quite make out. But it gave him the perfect opportunity to take the tooth brush.

"Hey!"

"Losers weepers." Kate pushed the neck of his shirt open more.

"Why are you covered in bruises?"

"Uh, because I got into a fight with pretty boy." Kate shook her head, not getting into it. Chalking the bruising on his neck up to something else like hickeys. They looked like finger prints though.

"Come on." She jumped down off the counter stumbling a bit, Billy caught her.

"Ok there, chica?"

"I'm fine. Your hand is on my ass." Billy squeezed once, realizing what the plumpness in his hand was.

"Ooop, sorry." Gravel crunched on the driveway, the two adults headed outside. It was close to midnight. "Shit." Billy mumbled as the world swam again, Kate helped him to lean against the hood of the Camaro

"Go get in my car!" Kate called to the kids, she tossed the keys to Steve. "Get them home to their parents." She held out her hand for Billy's keys from Steve.

"Are you sure about this?" Steve asked, she answered him quietly.

"Billy's fine. I don't think he's going to hurt me or Max." Kate watched as Steve took the other kids in her car.

"Keys." Billy demanded with his hand out.

"No."

"No?"

"Billy you got hit with some pretty strong tranquilizer. You're not in a state to drive. Plus I want to talk to your parents."

"Absolutely not!"

"How are you going to explain you and Max being out so late? Trust me I'm good with parents."

"Neil is-"

"Can it Max." Billy said sharply. The redhead sighed.

"If you think that Billy is an asshole Neil is twenty times worse. He's the reason Billy is an ass." Max said quickly. Billy looked annoyed.

"I've got a way with parents, trust me and get in the car."

xXx

"This is a bad idea." Billy muttered as they pulled into the driveway. Kate pulled her hair down, fluffing it out.

"No it isn't." She promised, jumping out of the car. She rapped lightly on the door, stepping back as it was yanked open with a force.

"Hi." She said gently to the red faced man, "You must be Mr. Hargrove." His face slowly relaxed from the angry look he had in place. He took her outstretched hand in his.

"Neil Hargrove, that would be me."

"My name is Katherine Torrance, I'm a local babysitter, or well I was, my kids are a bit too old to need a full time babysitter now." She sighed sadly and Mr. Hargrove made a look of sympathy, "You little girl Max is friends with my kids and she tagged along tonight when we went to the drive in."

"She was supposed to be home with her brother." Mr. Hargrove said sternly.

"Yes sir. And I understand if she's in trouble I'm not trying to sway you in any way of course. I realize she hadn't gotten permission about halfway to the drive-in next town over and the intention was for her to call at the drive-in to inform either her parents or her brother where she had gone but the payphone had been busted and the greasy man at the counter insisted that the phone inside was a business line only." Mr. Hargrove nodded slowly, "but regardless of all that I just wanted to brag to you how kind and respectful both of your children are. And how much of an amazing brother Billy is." Neil's eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"Is he now?"

"Yes sir! He is such a good man, he must have learned from the best." That comment made Billy almost physically sick. "My car broke down on our way back home and when Billy found us he crammed everyone into his car without question. He was my knight in shining armor." Neil grunted.

"Yeah he tends to favor the pretty ones, probably had to endure every line in the book didn't you?"

"Oh no sir, he was very respectful."

"Kids go inside." He ordered Billy and Max. Max rushed past him but Billy stalled.

"William. Now." Billy stepped past his father.

"Night Turner." He muttered.

"Bye Hargrove." Kate answered back.

"You go to Hawkins?" Mr. Hargrove asked.

"I'll be coming back within a few weeks, we had moved up to Michigan for a while and now we are moving back."

"You seem like a really sweet girl," he ran his hand down her arm, "So stay away from my son, he's nothing but trouble."

"Oh. Um yes sir." She nodded, stepping off of the porch.

"He's really manipulative, could charm the pants off of a nun. Treats women like they're his play thing and I'll be honest with you, a few of those young girls he strings along walk around this town with bruises on them." Neil shook his head, "I've tried to get through to him but nothing I say sways him. I worry for his future."

"I understand completely." Kate waved goodbye, and started walking backwards down the driveway, "I should be headed home. Thank you sir."

"Let me drive you home."

"No no, that's entirely unnecessary." As if on cue, there rolled up Steve's BMW. She eyed where Max was pressed to the glass of a window, phone still in hand.

"Hey! Kate, I've got the tow truck on the way. We've got to meet them at your car!" Steve rolled down the passenger window.

"Bye." She jumped into the car and Steve sped off.

"Something is wrong with Max's stepdad." She told Steve.

"Yeah Max seemed scared as shit when she called Lucas'."

"Oh my God!" Kate squealed, "My boys!" She wrapped her arms around the closest kissing him all over his forehead. Poor Lucas was going to be wiping away the lipstick stains for days. "You all look so handsome! Wait? Where's my favorite?" Mike, Will, and Lucas groaned.

"Steve is showing him how to fix his hair." Mike rolled his eyes. Kate faked a gag.

"It's always Steve!" She rolled her eyes, "Fuck me with a chainsaw!"

"That would be brutal." Max scoffed, approaching the group, "Woah!" She said in shock looking at Kate, "You clean up!" Kate held out her arms, swishing the skirt of her dress back and forth. It was red, tight fitted, with long sleeves and a deep neckline, there was just enough loose skirt to cover her mid thigh, and it flared out off of her hips.

"Doesn't it look gorgeous!"

"You look hot!" Max said wide-eyed. Kate laughed.

"Y'all go have fun, be kids!" They rushed off and Kate stood by the door taking tickets.

"Shit." A deep voice sighed as Kate stood just outside the open doors, fanning herself from the full blast of the heat in the gym. "I thought that was you." She placed her fingertips to his firm chest, stopping him. Billy.

"Ticket please." He placed an arm over her head on the door frame.

"I'm chaperoning." Kate looked back at all the children.

"Oh really?! Which one's yours, I don't see any mini juvenile delinquents."

"Really? Because I can see four right there." Billy pointed to her kids. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, turning to look at him before her eyes widened in disbelief, looking somewhere past him.

"No!" She grabbed his free arm, accidently pulling him closer, "Oh! My poor baby, what has that Bono look-a-like done to your beautiful hair!" She groaned looking at Henderson. Billy backed off leaning against the other side of the double doors to smoke.

"Hey!" Steve tossed his hands up lagging a bit behind.

"Don't start your shit with me, rolling up here playing that shitty pop music!"

"Dustin looks good-"

"Mom and dad are fighting again." Dustin mumbled walking past.

"He looks like a million- uhh-." Steve stopped dead, words dying, wide eyes turned down, "That is a lot of cleavage for a middle school dance." Kate snapped her fingers in his face.

"Eyes up here shit brains! Why does my kid look like Chewbacca fucked the shit out of Madonna and had a love child?!" Kate's tits bounced with her erratic hand motions. Steve's eyes immediately went back down, "Keep it up. I flashed Higgins' wife for telling me I looked like a slut." Steve scurried off quickly.

"Personally I think it's unlady like for a young woman-" Billy's voice faded into a growl as Kate reached for her neckline to pull it down.

"You can shove your opinion up your cute little ass Hargrove." She eyed his cigarette.

"Want one?" He asked her, holding out his hand. Kate reached over and Billy took her hand pulling her to him.

"What are you doing?" Kate laughed, Billy placed her arms on his shoulders, putting his hands on her hip and swaying them to the slow music.

"You want to smoke, dance with me." Billy demanded. He swayed them in small circles around their little quiet square of the parking lot.

"Content yet?" Billy took the cigarette from his mouth and put it between her lips. Kate tried to reach for it and he 'Aahnt' ed her smacking her hand away lightly.

"Inhale" Billy ordered. Kate took a deep drag off of the cigarette, holding it before blowing the smoke away from Billy. He placed the lipstick stained cigarette back between his lips.

"Is this your last one?"

"Yeah I was going to head to the Circle K after this."

"Why?"

"Because I need more smokes?" He looked at her like she was stupid as he started swaying them again.

"No I mean why are you sticking around you could easily just come back and pick her up?" Billy shrugged.

"I didn't mind waiting." He tossed the cigarette once it was burned down to the filter.

"Do you only smoke Reds?"

"What else do you have?"

"Shit." Billy sighed from the back of Kate's car. Kate smirked around the rolling paper.

"Just full of surprises aren't I, so I'm running low and Rick apparently got himself into more trouble so we are shotgunning it, is that cool?"

"What's that?" Billy looked all pretty in that blue shirt in her backseat.

"You don't know how to shotgun a joint?" She turned so they were facing each other better, "I'm about to teach you the hottest way to seduce someone ever!" Billy smirked.

"So you're trying to seduce me?"

"Okay no. For us it's simply a means to an end and that end is getting high." She scooched even closer, "So you take your Reds or a blunt, you get a girl who's never smoked before, and you tempt them. When they get all nervous you tell them you know a way they can get the taste of it and see if they like it. You take your drag- here lemme just show you, you'll probably like this." She took a long drag off of the joint and leaned close, grabbing Billy's chin. "Open." Kate mumbled and Billy parted his lips. Kate leaned into him extremely close and blew the smoke into his mouth. "And you tell them to inhale as you blow." He felt her lips against his as she spoke. She sat back on her knees taking another drag. "Trust me with your good looks, panties will fly." She laughed. Billy held out his hand for the joint.

"Let me try." He smirked, taking a long drag before pulling her face toward his. He made sure there lips bumped together as he blew the smoke into her mouth. She inhaled before leaning over Billy to blow the smoke out the window.

"Just like that." She told him. Billy swore her eyes glowed in the moonlight.

"Kate?" A voice echoed over the night, "Kate?!"

"Shit that's Johnathan!" She put the joint between his lips, "You can hang out here and finish that if you like." And she was gone. Billy watched through the front windshield as she ran up behind the tall and lanky Byers kid. She grabbed his sides, doubling over in laughter when he jumped, startled.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" He wrapped her in his arm, steering her back toward the middle school gym. "Where have you been?"

"Here. There. Everywhere." She snarked back. Billy watched bitterly, what in the fuck did that skrawny sack of shit have on him. Steve, Billy could understand if it was Harrington, but Byers?!

Prt 2

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 22

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 4400

Warnings: None

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Bigger Than The Whole Sky This Is Me Trying

****

Ghost

"Ready to head back?" Maverick asked over the radio. The pair flew side by side across the desert, parallel to the setting sun and away from the mountains they'd used as their playground for the last couple of hours. In the distance, miles and miles away, Ghost could see the warehouse.

"No, but I guess it is getting dark out," she said, mindful that she'd most likely be driving alone in the middle of the desert at night if they didn't return soon. The unappealing idea persuaded her to return to the warehouse.

"Let's head back. I think Penny is on her way with dinner, too. You should stay and eat with us."

"As long as I'm not intruding on family time."

"Not at all. You are family, Ghost."

Smiling to herself, she followed Maverick back to the warehouse. On the way, they followed the road. Ghost noticed three cars in the distance, familiar ones. One, a silver Porsche that belonged to Penny, a red convertible that belonged to Phoenix, a white truck- oddly named Ruby- belonging to Hangman, and an unfamiliar black 4-Runner. Were they all coming for dinner? If Hangman and Phoenix were there, Rooster would undoubtedly be joining. Ghost considered leaving, but it'd look too suspicious if she left right when everyone else arrived, and she'd already told Mav she'd stay. The female aviator would have to stick this out. With the Daggers around, surely she could find a way to avoid Rooster without making things awkward for everyone else. 

Wordlessly, Ghost dipped her plane down, allowing barely thirty feet between herself and the ground. Maverick followed, falling in line next to her. Cracking her neck, she said, "It's not exactly a tower, but I feel the need to buzz them."

Although she couldn't see him, she could hear the mirth in Maverick's voice. "Is this your idea of fun, Ghost?"

Ghost laughed, and as the two rapidly approached the cars, they dared to lower their planes even more. She felt a thrill as they blew past the drivers, and she swore she saw Hangman lean out of his truck window and flip her off, which only made her grin wider than she already was.

Ghost and Maverick landed the planes on the empty road, well ahead of the cars racing to catch up to them. By the time Penny, Phoenix, Hangman, and Omaha- who turned out to be the driver of the 4-Runner- did arrive at the warehouse, the two pilots had already parked the P-51s and disembarked from them.

"You sly dog," Hangman said, swaggering up to Ghost. "How'd you convince the old man to let you fly that?"

Ghost placed her hands on her hips, smiling smugly up at her ex. "Guess he just likes me more than you."

"Impossible."

"Not really," Phoenix said, approaching them with bags of takeout on her arm. That's when Ghost noticed Penny and the other Daggers were all carrying something, too, whether it be bags of food or bags of booze. Noticeably absent was Rooster. Relief and disappointment simultaneously flooded through her. Ghost didn't know what to think. Since when did Rooster pass on an opportunity to hang out with Maverick and crew? She didn't have time to ponder it, though, because Phoenix continued, "I was going to be mad at you for not joining us at the Hard Deck again, but I get it now. I'd ditch us to fly with Maverick too."

"Glad you can see my logic," Ghost said. "Need any help with the stuff?"

"Yeah, help me unpack it." Phoenix strode over to the counter, facing away from the others. Ghost stood next to her, pulling out the containers one by one and only stopping when her phone buzzed. To her shock, Rooster's name flashed on the screen, along with a selfie of the pair at a bar. Ghost's finger hovered over the answer button. Why was he calling? If he wanted to discuss their issues, now was hardly the time. 

"You two still in a funk?" Phoenix asked quietly. Ghost had momentarily forgotten the aviator knew of their issues, although she figured Bob or Rooster had told her the details if she knew any.  

"I think it's gone from funk to gunk," Ghost muttered. Still, not wanting to appear like a bitch, and figuring she'd have to speak to him sometime, Ghost hit the answer button and moved away to a more private section of the hangar in case the conversation turned sour. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Bradley greeted, sounding astonished. "I've been trying to reach you for the last couple of hours-"

"You have?"

"Yeah, then I realized you were probably up in the air, and I thought I'd give it one last shot."

"Really?" Ghost pulled the phone away from her ear and checked her call log. Sure enough, she had three missed calls from Rooster, along with another three from Bryn, and more than a few texts from the couple asking for her to respond. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to my phone. I'm with Maverick and the Daggers. Why?"

"Oh, cool, you're already at the warehouse. I was going to invite you if you hadn't been already. Guess Hangman got to inviting you before I did."

His words sent warmth through her veins and lifted a small weight off her shoulders. Even though they'd barely spoken to each other in the past two weeks, mainly due to her own stubbornness, he still thought about reaching out to include her. 

"No, I've been here all day," Ghost responded, leaning against the locker.

"Really? How come?"

"Needed to talk to Maverick about work. That's all. How far out are you?"

"Ten minutes. Could you help me carry in the chairs and inflatable mattresses? I have a feeling at least half of us are going to end up smashed and will be spending the night."

Ghost snorted, agreeing wholeheartedly when she saw Coyote and Harvard having a beer-chugging contest out of the corner of her eye. "Good call. See you soon."

They hung up, and Ghost allowed herself to relax a little. That hadn't been near as stressful as she'd imagined. Maybe it was better with a phone between them. Perhaps they'd revert back to their normal tension the moment they stood next to each other.

No, don't think like that! Ghost silently chastised herself. It'll be fine. Don't think about him, talk to everyone else, and enjoy the night.

Of course, telling herself not to think about Rooster was like telling herself not to breathe. There was a hole in her life without his constant presence, and she'd felt it ever since his first deployment, only his sporadic calls, texts, and emails whenever he could reach out filling the void when they were apart. The hole was a million times worse knowing he was right here, yet emotionally so far away. 

Ghost found herself anxious to see him but couldn't decipher if it was good or bad anxiety or a mixture. She kept an eye on the open door of the warehouse for his Bronco, and as he told her, Rooster pulled up in ten minutes. Ghost started striding out to meet him but stopped short when a familiar BMW pulled up alongside him.

Abort mission! Abort mission! Ghost's head screamed when Bryn hopped out of her SUV, all smiles and windblown hair. She opened her trunk, revealing a mass of blankets and two large coolers.

"Hey, Harvard, Yale! Help me with these?" Bryn hollered out. Ghost backtracked immediately, or tried to, running smack dab into Hangman's chest.

"At the risk of making a pun here, you look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked, gently holding her arms. "You okay?"

"I, uh, I didn't know Bryn was going to be here. That's all," Ghost confessed, her nerves spiking. Dealing with Rooster around the Daggers would be one thing, but to have him and Bryn around... Ghost didn't want to deal with this, but how could she escape?

She couldn't.

"I'm gonna assume it's still a shitshow between you two. I'll help Bradshaw if you want to-" 

"No, it's okay. I already told him I'd help. Besides, I have to face him at some point." Patting his chest, Ghost put on her aviators to hide her eyes from the sun and her comrades and walked to Rooster's Bronco. He hopped out of the truck, looking casually handsome in his typical white tee, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and jeans. Rooster took off his sunglasses and smiled at her, the kind he used to give her before everything went to hell for them.

"Hey, Ghost," Rooster said, walking to the back of his truck. She followed him. "How've you been?"

"Good. Yourself?"

"Not bad. All right, if you want to grab that plastic container, I'll grab the chairs." Ghost obeyed and, supplies in hand, headed back to the warehouse shoulder to shoulder with Rooster. On the way, he said, "Thanks for helping me. Figured everyone else would be plastered already even though I was only a few minutes behind."

"You're not exactly wrong when it comes to Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback," Ghost responded, glancing over at the three boys who were on their second beer.

"Yeah, they started drinking at the Hard Deck. Amazed they're still standing."

"We're not lightweights like you!" Coyote said as Rooster and Ghost walked by him and set the chairs and plastic bin aside. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Halo, Omaha, Phoenix, and Bob moving the couches outside around a fire pit.

Meanwhile, without missing a beat, Rooster replied, "Nah, you're just alcoholics. Hand me one, would you?"

Coyote reached into the cooler, and while he and Rooster shot the breeze, Ghost slipped away and back to the counter with all the food. Penny and Maverick were arranging everything in a buffet style. Ghost eyed the food hungrily, her stomach rumbling at the sight and smell of it. She'd been hungrier than she realized.

"What do we have here?" Rooster asked, appearing behind her and surveying the scene before him. He stood so close to her that Ghost could feel the heat radiating off of him. All she wanted to do was turn around, say she was sorry for pushing him away, and hug him tightly, but she didn't. With him and Bryn back together, Ghost didn't dare show affection toward Rooster other than a smile.

"We have a ton of Chinese food. I'm pretty sure we ordered half the menu," Penny said, wiping her hands on a towel. "It's ready, though, so dig in."

At the word 'ready,' the Daggers swarmed the table, grabbing plates and piling them high with food. Hangman and Rooster nearly stabbed each other with their forks going for the same spring roll. It was only when Bryn chucked a piece of balled-up aluminum at them, so well-thrown that it bounced off of Hangman's face and into Rooster's. The boys stopped and stared at her in shock. Ghost took the opportunity to slip between them and steal the sought-after spring roll. Before they'd even realized what she'd done, Ghost had already devoured the roll and moved away from them.

Once everyone had their food, they shuffled outside, each taking a plastic chair. Ghost snagged the comfiest one and placed it between Hangman and Maverick. Bryn took the couch with Phoenix and Halo, Maverick and Penny took the love seat; the others used the chairs Rooster brought. 

"So, what all have you been up to today?" Maverick asked, scanning his adopted pilots. He listened intently as the group answered. Hangman had been talking to his family most of the morning; when one hung up, a different sibling would call. It was wholly unplanned but something that often occurred in the Seresin clan. They were highly in tune with each other. Coyote, Fanboy, Omaha, Fritz, and Payback played video games, mainly wreaking havoc on each other more than the enemies in the game. Halo and Phoenix went to the spa. Bob went to the beach. Rooster had been napping when he got the invite and had forwarded it to Bryn.

"I almost didn't come," Bryn admitted, shoving some noodles into her mouth. "I wanted to sleep and do nothing, but Rooster convinced me it'd be good for me to come."

"Glad you two worked things out," Hangman remarked, eyeing the couple with a gleam in his eyes. "Bradshaw's much more tolerable with you around."

Bryn snorted. "Whoever heard of an ex having that effect?"

Ghost nearly choked on her spring roll. Thankfully, Fanboy spewing his drink out distracted anyone from noticing Ghost's reaction.

"When did this happen?!" Coyote demanded, his gaze flicking between the exes.

"Earlier this week," Bryn replied casually. "We gave it our best shot, but we both realized we were better off as friends. No hard feelings. If there were, I wouldn't be here."

Ghost's heart dropped to her stomach. While her two friends appeared to be genuinely okay with the fact that they were no longer together, nausea swept over her. They would probably still be a couple if not for her. Were they simply saying they realized they were 'better off as friends' to avoid the truth that might cause some unwanted personal questions? Were they telling the truth or twisting it?

Appetite gone, Ghost stopped eating, subtly and casually handing Hangman the little remaining food on her plate. He didn't question it, too involved in his discussion with Coyote about some new truck model he was thinking of purchasing. She probably could've fed him a rock, and he'd eat it without question. Once her food disappeared, Ghost slipped out of her chair, grabbed a few other empty plates with a fake smile to avoid suspicion, and then high-tailed it to the kitchen. Once away from prying eyes, Ghost dropped the dishes in the sink and braced herself against the counter, shaking. 

I broke them up. They were happy, and I broke them up. What kind of God-awful friend am I? Ghost chastised herself, clenching her jaw painfully tight. I should've reached out to Bryn and tried to help fix things with her and Rooster. I should've done everything I could to make sure they worked things out. But I stayed silent and did nothing.

A nasty second voice popped into her head. What could you have done? You would've made things worse. It's why you're pushing everyone away. Because you break relationships, both you're own and others. You were fighting with Ghoul when she died, you had an argument with your dad the day he died, you're constantly at odds with your mom, you broke Rooster's heart, you hurt Bryn, and you'll probably fuck up with Hangman and Maverick, too, the only people left in your corner. No one will miss a Ghost, so stay away from them all.

"Shut up," Ghost whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping the awful voice would disappear. "Please, just shut up."

She turned around to face the sink and opened her eyes. Blurred vision welcomed her. Fuck, I'm not crying here. Not now. Not when anyone could walk in and see me. Distract yourself. Be productive. Do something other than cry because it won't do jack shit to help.

Listening to her own advice, the only solid advice she had, Ghost set to work cleaning up the kitchen and organizing the mess so it'd be easier to clean up later. Her favorite turned out to be scrubbing the plates and loading the dishwasher. She did it slowly to buy herself time to gather her composure before returning to the Daggers, afraid they'd see how close she was to breaking.

"Hey, you need any help?" Bryn asked, walking up to Ghost with a few more dirty plates.

Ghost shook her head and nodded at the empty counter space next to her. "No, I'm good. You can put the stuff there, and I'll take care of it. Thanks for the offer, though."

"You shouldn't be doing this all by yourself," Bryn argued lightly.

Ghost shrugged. "It's the least I can do for Mav. He's been a big help to me recently, and he let me fly his plane, so I'd like to do something for him in return, even if it's just doing the dishes. Seriously, I'm fine. Go hang out with the Daggers."

"You're not fine, Ghost," Bryn said softly, leaning against the counter a conservative distance away from her friend but still too close for Ghost's comfort. "I may be blond, but I'm not blind. I saw you start handing your food over to Hangman almost right after Rooster and I told everyone we weren't together anymore. You haven't even looked at or talked to me since I got here, either."

"Why would I think you'd want to talk to me?" Ghost countered, finally meeting her friend's gaze. "I lied to you about sleeping with Rooster and caused you two to break up. Outside of the same useless and pathetic apologies I offered the day you found out about me lying to you, what could I possibly say to you?"

When Bryn failed to answer, Ghost sniffed and turned back to the sink. She hoped her hair shielded her face from Bryn's view, that it blocked the sight of the tears forming in her eyes. Ghost assumed her words would've pushed Bryn away, but her friend refused to leave. 

"It wasn't your fault," Bryn said, shifting closer. "You know that, right?"

"No, I don't. You two were happy until I got between you, and I don't understand how you don't hate me right now."

"Because after talking with Rooster and thinking about it over the past week, I realized what you did, you were trying to protect me, just like you try to protect everyone you love. Plus, I think you hate yourself enough over what happened; you don't need any help from me."

Well, she is right about that... Ghost thought grimly, continuing to scrub the dishes with an unnecessary amount of force. Bryn continued on. "I wanted to apologize, too, for-"

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," Ghost said sharply, the shocking statement jarring her out of her melancholy and giving her the courage to face Bry again. "You didn't sleep with your best friend's boyfriend and then lie about it."

"We weren't dating yet," Bryn pointed out.

"Semantics."

"Maybe, but it's still true, and I want to apologize for not reaching out to you sooner to try and fix this between us and for not telling you sooner that Rooster and I were over. You should've been the first to know and to know why. We weren't lying earlier when we said we concluded we'd be better off as friends."

"What made you come to that conclusion?"

"Two things. One, and you're already aware of this probably, but Rooster is in love with you, not me. It wouldn't have worked in the long run for that reason. Two, I finally admitted to myself and to him that I wasn't in love with him either. I was in love with the way he made me feel. I've been struggling since Dad died, and Rooster made me laugh and forget about my woes. You did too, just so you know. But that's why I stayed with him so long, and maybe in time, I would've fallen in love with him, but why make him wait when there's someone who's already there? Someone who's been there for a long time?"

"I don't date my friend's exes, Bryn. That's girl code and my own code, and last time I went against those, it caused this whole fiasco."

"So you'll just going to let yourself be miserable?"

"Yes. It'll pass. It always does."

"Ghost, I love you, and what I'm about to say, I'm about to say with the utmost love-" Bryn grabbed her friend's shoulders- "Stop being a stubborn dumbass. I am giving you my verbal, whole-hearted permission to date Rooster. I can give it to you in writing if you need that too. I want you to be happy, and I recognize the only way that'll happen is if you're with him. You've waited years for each other. Now, you're both here, you're both single, and you're still both madly in love with each other. Go for him. I want you to."

Ghost's breath caught in her throat, a moral dilemma battling inside her head. It wasn't a lie to Bryn saying that when Ghost ignored her morals, this entire fiasco was born; on the other hand, Bryn made a point. Ghost had waited years for Rooster to be single and in the same place as her, and she wouldn't be truly happy again until she at least worked things out with him and, fingers crossed, ended up with him. Most of all, Bryn was giving her permission, and like her father, Bryn said nothing she didn't mean.

"I'll consider it," Ghost said, smiling weakly. 

"He's waiting for you when you're ready, and I think he has a slew of apologies for you. Rooster told me about your argument and all that was said. For the record, and on your behalf since you didn't do it, I slapped him violently upside the head when he got to the part about telling you to fuck Hangman if you wanted a boy toy."

Ghost let out a burst of small but genuine laughter. "I appreciate the gesture, especially since you were probably still pissed me with me when you did it."

"Hey, mad at you or not, what he said was uncalled for. I've told him he needs to see a therapist about his anger issues. I know he developed them after his mom died, and it got worse after his fallout with Maverick. There's something deeper at play there, but I don't know what. Maybe you can get it out of him. On a different note, though, are we good?" Bryn asked, her blue eyes strikingly vulnerable. "Because I miss my best friend and want her back."

"We're good," Ghost said sincerely, smiling. Bryn opened her arms, and the two girls hugged each other tightly. Unable to believe the forgiving nature of her friend, Ghost found it hard to comprehend they were actually okay again and back to normal, but she found herself apologizing one more time to make sure Bryn knew how much she regretted her actions. "I am so, so sorry for everything I did and caused."

"I know you are," Bryn said, pulling away. "But promise me you won't beat yourself up anymore about it, okay? You don't need any more additional stress on top of the amount you already have from this tournament."

"I promise. Want to head back out to the Daggers?"

"Yeah. I'm sure they're wondering where we are. Come on." Looping her arm through Ghost's, Bryn dragged her friend away from the sink. Ghost barely managed to shut the faucet off beforehand. They chatted and laughed like nothing ever happened between them, and when they returned to the group, Hangman texted Ghost the second she sat down, asking: You two better?

Ghost looked over at him and nodded.

"Hey, Ghost, how's the tournament going?" Omaha asked, leaning back in his chair. "You number one?"

"Naturally," she said confidently. "The final round is in two days. I think I'm going up against Hollywood. I'm curious about what the last course run will be. Mav, do you know?"

"I do. I picked it," he responded, face lighting up with an impish smirk.

Ghost perked up. "Can I know what it is?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy, but I'll give you a hint: it's the opportunity you would've had had other factors not gotten in your way."

The Gauntlet. He's talking about The Gauntlet! Barely able to contain her excitement, Ghost beamed. "I'm looking forward to it. What's the time limit?"

"Two minutes and thirty seconds."

"How fast did you do it?"

"You're not trying to beat my time."

"If the roles were reversed, whose time would you want to beat?" Ghost countered, leaning forward with a challenging gleam in her eyes. 

Mav nodded understandingly, recognizing she nailed it on the head because he would try to beat his score if he were in her shoes. "Two-fourteen-fifty-four."

"Noted. I'm not promising I'll beat it, but I can promise you I'm going to try."

"If you beat it, then I'm retiring completely. I'll stick to flying my P-51s."

"Yeah, speaking of which-" Coyote interrupted, pointing at her with his fork, which still had a spring roll attached to its prongs- "how the fuck did you manage to convince Mav to let you fly his plane? What kind of black magic did you work?"

"Maybe he trusted me not to break anything on it, like the joystick," Ghost countered, remembering the story of when Coyote pulled back too hard on the control in one of his first flight trainings and snapped it almost cleanly in two. The instructor had to land the plane immediately.

"How do you even know about that?!"

"Ghosts hear the things you don't necessarily want them to. I probably know a lot of things I shouldn't," Ghost admitted, thinking back to all the confidential conversations she overheard between her parents. Ghost never breathed a word about what they discussed, not even telling her parents she'd eavesdropped. She always figured the knowledge of knowing things you weren't supposed to would come in handy one day.

"What I want to know is how the hell you broke a joystick?" Payback said, diverting the conversation back onto Coyote. Ghost laughed and settled back into the couch, watching her friends tease each other and joke around. For the first time that evening, she felt wholly at ease. Ghost even locked eyes with Rooster at one point and offered him a smile, whereas before, she would've hastily diverted her gaze.

As the night wore on, although Ghost chose to listen rather than talk, she occasionally chimed in whenever someone asked her a question. However, Ghost found her mind wandering to her impending mission. Every time she looked at Rooster, Hangman, or Maverick, her heart would constrict. Maybe it was for the best she brought one of them as her wingman, but the idea of losing any of them was unfathomable.

****

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