#don’t worry Lint is having a good time

[lunaloothemew]

Loaf Disease.

At this point, most of my post are about @ask-mirage-mews and I’m just going to accept it because I love the stories and characters.

Speaking of which, we got Mosy and their 3 mittens loafing, they belong to the forementioned ask mirage mews. And then we got Luna and Lint, who belong to me :3

Also I’m aware Mosy’s blue outline on the eyes is the style choice but I think it’s so cute, I just can’t help but keep it even in my own style.

[madelinemccoolname]

Slime girl hrt

So, you’ve decided you’re a slimegirl. I’ve been on fluid replacement therapy, commonly referred to as slime hrt or shortened to frt, for five years but I haven’t managed to find a decent guide on the effects I’ve been experiencing anywhere on the internet. So I’ve decided to make this little guide for anyone who might still be on the fence. Keep in mind obviously I don’t speak for everyone and other goorl’s timelines might look a little bit different based on like genetics or something.

0-6 months

• For the first 3 months the effects are, I’m told, similar to estrogen’s first couple months, you’ll notice for sure your skin getting softer, your face might round out a bit, but the most you get are the side effects

• I personally was not prepared for how thirsty I got, I had heard about it but you really don’t know how much of your body isn’t liquid until you’re replacing all of it

• At 4 months is when I noticed my skin and body were moving kinda differently, tho this got the most pronounced at 6 months

• At 6 months all of my skin rippled like the surface of a pond whenever anyone touched me or like if the wind started blowing

• My joints got a lot more flexible, and my elbows and knees became double jointed (don’t do this too much)

• My hair didn’t get tangled overnight anymore

• My finger prints went away

6-12 months

• Here’s where the real magic starts, I got a lot thirstier for one and specifically had cravings for gatorade, I think this has something to do with slimegirls being partially salt water, but it could also be the food coloring in it (this is a joke about me drinking a lot of light blue gatorade and then being light blue)

• On the subject of color my skin got a sort of blue tinge to it, and most notably got completely see through by my 8 month mark

• The changes start from the thinnest part of your body and goes in towards your core, so even by 5 months your fingertips might be completely clear

• This next part is partially why I wanted to make this guide, so obviously your body doesn’t liquify at the same rate all over, for me this meant I was able to see the muscle in my upper arms if I looked through my fingers, this is both normal and something you’re going to have to get used to as you continue your journey

• Your toes are also going to turn at the same rate, this will probably be your first experience with lint getting in your slime bits, you don’t need to worry about your bloodstream getting infected with sock but regularly picking out bits is good hygiene and something you wanna get into the habit of

• My hair officially finished it’s transition into one solid shape, it still had defined follicles but if you tried to grab a strand of hair the rest would try to come with it

• People also started to ask me who dyed my hair, please note it’s always funny to say “it’s the way Goo-d made me” in response to this

12-24 months

• This window is larger than the others because all you’re going to notice from now on are the big changes

• Avoid tanktops past 14 months, your arms should be entirely translucent at this point and while having a buncha stuff floating around in my goo is kinda gender for me, people generally do not like to see slightly dissolved organs and ribcage

• 14 months was also when I noticed that my arm bones had entirely disappeared, my leg bones were also just barely holding in there, moving without bones was so freeing

• if you ever want anyone you know to stick their fingers in your slime, now’s probably the first time anyone's willing to stick their fingers far into your arms and legs, try to get them to wiggle their fingers. if they’re really adventurous they’ll stick their whole arm through to the other side, which still makes me a little squeamish

• Now that we’re at the part where I was mostly slime, we should probably talk about slime color. I’m going to dispel this misinformation, there is no way to find out what color a slimegirl is going to be before she starts transitioning. Some people say its eye color but that’s a lie. I am naturally a blue slime girl but my eyes pretransition were green. To dispel another myth you can dye yourself with food coloring, so you don’t even really have to stress about it

• By 18 months the only part of me that wasn’t slime was my head, the skull takes the longest time to dissolve because you’re doing the skull and all the organs in there all at once, see the human body really really wants to keep the brain safe, so when your brain gets the signal to get rid of your bones, it just does it all at once

• Some people say their eyesight got better, tho that seems to be anecdotal (mine stayed the same sadly)

• 18 months is also when I started experimenting with my shape. This was probably the most frustrating part of it for me, shapeshifting your goo is like a muscle, the more you do it the easier it’ll get. If you want a specific shape, spend enough time in it, and it’ll become your default shape, though you’ll never forget your original shape.

• 24 months is the last point I want to cover, by 24 months I was 100% liquid, the heavy viscosity from early transition leads to something closer to a liquid jello. I can detach parts of my body and then move to replace it, and I can reabsorb the parts I leave behind

• Clothes should rest just on the surface of you, though I know a lot of girls just change themselves to look clothed (probably more than you think ;)

• Suspenders and heavy cardigans break surface tension for me, luckily that's also a cute look so sometimes I match my cardigan with overalls for an aquarium effect on the overall straps

• This was also when I stopped breathing and going to the bathroom

• Some people report “knowing” when certain parts of their brain turn into goo, I didn’t experience that but it certainly could happen

Things I didn’t know where else they would fit

• I feel like a lot of this post was mainly dry, so in the interest of avoiding having a dry slime girl post, this section will mostly just be slime things that brought me joy

• I love speaking in slime puns, I keep a little book of slime puns and slant rimes just in case the slime arises that i would ever ooze some

• Being out in the rain or being out on a windy day is so much better when you can feel your entire body move in the wind, in particular go out on a rainy day without anything on, and lay down on the ground, the rain rippling through your entire body is heavenly

• Speaking of weather, when I first noticed I was refracting light on a sunny day I almost started crying, I felt so pretty and right :)

• I said I stopped needing to use the bathroom, but I still do siphon off some goo once a month. Mostly this is to get out bits of trash that accumulate and also because it feels exactly like taking a shower after a hard sweaty day’s work

• Speaking of bits, get a powerful magnet and metal shaving and you could probably waste a whole day just moving metal shavings through your body

• This might be a bit late in the guide for this, but when my arms finally turned I pulled a great prank on my at the time girlfriend by sticking my hand into a blender (do not do this if you still have bones, or value your girlfriend not being really really mad at you)

So that's all you need to know before starting frt, becoming the slime of your dreams is a difficult and beautiful process. I know a lot of what i described here might be frightening but if it sounds enticing at all know that it’s worth it.

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

change gendered language   &   add context to your needs . happy roleplaying !!  ♡

“ the best way to make beautiful art is to constantly expose yourself to new & exciting places . ” “ nothing makes me happier than seeing a plant i’ve grown from a seed produce a gorgeous bloom !! ” “ you have this magic ability to make people happy . i hope you’ll show me how you do it someday . ” “ it’s good to live in the moment & not worry too much about the past . ” “ isn’t that nice ?? we’re all just little clumps of stardust , walking around . ” “ i was so innocent back then , before i learned the cruel ways of the world . ” “ all i want to do right now is hop into a warm bed & not get out until the end of winter . ” “ come on , treat me like a pretty princess !! ” “ i’ll love myself by eating my favorite ice cream & wearing baggy clothes . ” “ lots of folks try to take the easy road , but that just means you’ve gotta deal with a lot of traffic . ” “ thanks for being my friend . you’re always there for me , & i think that’s great . ” “ there are some things you just don’t realize about places until you leave them . ” “ it’s like i gave you a little piece of my heart , & you kept it safe & warm . ” “ i don’t feel like i can trust anyone right now , so i need to be alone . ” “ were you being nice or sarcastic ?? ” “ no matter how much time passes , i can’t forget him . ” “ why think about boys when you could be thinking about really important issues ?? ” “ my dream is for everyone to find something they can be passionate about & to fully enjoy each day . ” “ i’m okay with anything , as long as there’s some romance in the story . . . ” “ you’re looking awful as ever . who dresses you ?? ” “ are you some kind of antisocial freak , or something ?? ” “ whenever we talk , i feel like there’s a lot more going on inside you than you ever let anyone see . ” “ you’re so passive - aggressive . get some therapy . ” “ sometimes , all it takes is a good friend to remind you of all the things you like about your life . ” “ if you waste your time doing something you enjoy , then you’re not wasting your time . ” “ i hope you get stung by a thousand bees . ” “ who decided oranges have to be named after their color , but bananas aren’t just called ‘ yellows ’ . . . ?? ” “ doesn’t the sight of petals falling make you feel sad ?? . . . makes me feel kind of sad . life is so fragile . . . ” “ if i pass out here , please make sure i have some lipstick on . ” “ you could give me bellybutton lint & i would still treasure it . ” “ when you laugh , you look dreamy . ” “ i hope you go to jail & that your stupid house is torn down . ” “ you are in need of some serious fashion first - aid . ” “ what sort of sadist would drag me out of bed this early in the morning ?? ” “ i have to drink ten gallons of mint tea every single day . ” “ well , you’re so pretty , it doesn’t matter what atrocious thing you wear . ” “ there are things you want to do & things you have to do . . . but don’t forget to do nothing now & then . ” “ please don’t question my driving or parking skills . you couldn’t even begin to understand the level i’m on . ”

[haikyuubby]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 - 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

❀ , ☼ - featuring: death the kid, soul, blackstar, maka, tsubaki, liz, patty, and crona.

death the kid

• good luck

• in a relationship, he’d want you to look as symmetrical as possible to him. (i’m outta luck 😍)

• he’s the typa guy to lint roll ur clothes if he sees a piece of dog or cat hair on them.

• dtk is definitely anxious and an overthinker in a relationship

• his love language is gift giving

• he’s not really into too much pda, but if someone starts eyeing you when you’re with him, he’ll start holding your hand or put his arm around your waist.

• he def needs a s/o who has a lot of patience.

• overall he’d be a pretty good boyfriend

soul

• basic teenage boy

• what more can i say

• likes pda

• his love language is physical touch

• he def always have a arm around your shoulder or waist most the time

• he likes when you take care of him

• yk making sure he’s okay, tending to his wounds and such

• he’d be a pretty chill bf, he is the jealous type tho

blackstar

• slightly annoying boyfriend

• maybe more than slightly

• but if you’re already dating him you should know about his…beaming personality by now

• he’s always doing things to impress you

• like crazy stunts and trying to fight randos

• he def gets super worried abt you if you get hurt or sick

• very protective over you

• love language is words of affirmation

• he’s also another jealous type

• and immature

• but super loving

maka

• a good s/o

• puts all her trust in you to do the right things, have her back, etc

• not really the jealous type but if she does happen to get jealous, she’ll be quiet about it

• she’ll cook, clean, basically do anything for you

• she loves when you compliment her, anything about her tbh

• not really too into pda, but a little hand holding and hugging is okay.

• her love language is a mix of gift giving and words of affirmation

tsubaki

• very good gf

• she doesn’t rlly get jealous because she trusts you and she knows that she has nothing to worry about

• her love language is physical touch

• she loves when you hold her hand or when you give her small kisses on the cheek

• she loves it when you rake your hands through her hair

• she also loves when you feel her up (🤭)

• overall she’s pretty chill, but she does get nervous about some things

• and any time she does, she goes to you right away.

liz

• very mature

• she is just simple in a relationship

• like don’t lie, don’t cheat, and it’s all good

• she knows when she’s in the wrong, and she’ll call you out for the same thing too.

• only gets jealous when it’s justified

• like if someone started flirting with you right in front of her

• her love language is quality time

patty

• good gf

• she’s just a ray of sunshine tbh

• only time y’all have relationship problems is when she feels like you aren’t giving her enough attention

• her love language is physical touch

• she’s always on you in some way

• her favorite way to be on you is by piggyback riding

• she doesn’t rlly get jealous tbh

• she don’t think of things that deeply 😭

crona

• oh my

• VERY anxious s/o

• they don’t rlly know what to do

• for like anything

• so crona’s always like “Am I doing this wrong?” when it comes to ANYTHING in the relationship

• def needs a s/o that can give lots of reassurance and has patience.

• crona would get jealous often, and it would be obvious

• love language is def quality time

• you just have to be patient with crona, if something happens and they don’t understand what they did wrong, you’d just need to be able to explain everything in GREAT detail so crona understands.

[siriussslut]

part 2 to fwb james? 😲

absolutely, i hope u like it!! 🫶🏻

warnings: explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving)

this wasn’t really where i intended to go but i kinda ended up making it seem like james has feelings, so… maybe a part three where they get together? idk🤭

part one, masterlist

“hey lily, do you have a tampon i could borrow?” you ask, standing up from your chair. you’re all sitting in the kitchen now, refilling snacks and drinks in preparation for the sequel of the movie you’d finished only a few minutes ago.

“mhm, there’s some in the cabinet of the upstairs bathroom.”

“thanks,” you say, hurrying up the stairs. you knew the tampons were there from the millions of times you’d been over at lily’s already, but you didn’t want the others to suspect anything. you open the door to find james sitting on the edge of the tub, picking at the lint on his t-shirt.

he looks up as you step inside, locking the door behind you. “oh, hey y/n.”

“hey. we have to be quick. i bought a bit of time, said i needed to switch my tampon, but still.” you step out of your clothes as you talk, pulling down your pajama pants and slipping out of your underwear.

“yep, you don’t want them know,” james says, gaze dropping to your pussy. “you’re so pretty.” he’s immediately distracted, transfixed at the sight of you.

you roll your eyes. as if he hasn’t seen your whole body before. he leans forward, head inching towards your pussy. you’d been horny all night, and playing with james earlier had left you aching. you’re practically dripping down your thighs now.

“you’re so wet,” he whispers, voice rough.

“hurry up.”

he looks up at you through his round glasses. “can i?” he gestures towards your pussy with his chin.

you nod, taking his glasses off for him.

he kneels down so he’s resting on his knees, and you press your back up against the door.

he licks softly across your folds, drawing a small moan out of you. you’re less worried about being quiet now, as the others are downstairs and talking loudly with each other.

something inside of him seems to snap, and he speeds up to an aggressive pace, as though he’s starving for your taste. you throw your head back against the door with a loud thud, subconsciously tangling your fingers in his curls.

he looks up at you with soft brown eyes, a smile crinkling in the corners.

his tongue swirls around your clit, lighting the bundle of nerves on fire, one of his fingers pushed deep inside of you.

“oh, james that’s so good,” you say breathily, your voice shaky. “don’t stop, don’t stop.”

his free hand reaches for your hip, softly kneading the flesh on your side, fingers almost on your ass, but remaining just out of reach.

he curves his finger inside of you, quickening the pace of his tongue even further.

you gasp. “oh, james, you’re doing so good. you’re so good- you’re-“ you cut yourself off as you come, your brain overloading.

he doesn’t let go as you orgasm, licking and kissing you through it.

you slide down to the floor when you finish, forcing him to detach his mouth from you.

“was that good?” he asks, pushing your underwear up your legs.

“mhm.” you nod against the door frame, eyes fluttering shut. you give yourself one more moment before you force yourself up. you pull on your pants, checking in the mirror to make sure you look normal. you splash some cool water on your face before unlocking the door.

“hey, y/n,” james says as you turn the door handle.

“yeah?” you pause, turning back to meet his gaze.

his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly wide. his glasses are back on, slightly crooked this time.

“uh, never mind.”

“…okay. wait a few minutes before you come down.” you close the door, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

[peeweekey]

i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!

part i, part ii, part iii

synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.

tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing ; miscommunication

Valentine’s day comes rolling around the next year, and you are sadly not present to witness Alhaitham lengthen his trail of broken hearts. A shame, really. This year, you were looking forward to bringing popcorn for the occasion—just to see him squirm.

You’ve been cooped up in the homeroom lab for the better part of the week, sewing and snipping away at one of the costumes for the school’s fair. Unlike last year, you don’t have your seniors to help you pin fabrics right or to assist in hand stitching plastic beads, as the newly appointed tailor's club head you have a lot more duties to take on.

It’s exhausting, you feel the deep creases underneath your eye—dreading to head to the bathroom and accidentally look into the mirror to face your own haggard appearance—and the dull ache in your hands and back is blocking any sense you could have.

The club room is otherwise quiet if not for the lo-fi beat playing from your phone’s speaker and the rhythmic snips of scissors gliding over fabric. You focus all your brain power on the task—fabric is not cheap and you don’t have enough mora in your wallet if you lose focus and mess up—and remain blissfully unaware of any potential distraction.

To be honest, it hadn’t even registered in your head that you weren’t alone in the room anymore, until the gentlest tap on your shoulder has you snapping your focus away from the brocade.

The sight of just who has you unconsciously gaping your mouth like a blubbering fish in shock—Alhaitham.

He stares at you blankly, his gaze is so intense it’s a little unnerving, you freeze up before him, and probably make yourself look like an idiot in the process.

Suddenly, the state of your appearance becomes a presiding worry. Having skipped lunch in favor of patterning tulle perfectly on the dummy mannequin. Your uniform is crumpled, creased with the lack of motion, stray threads and fabric fibers cover you head to toe similar to lint. It’s almost humiliating to be seen so disheveled by Alhaitham—when he himself looks like the epitome of put-together flawlessness.

“Haitham,” you start, smoothing out the fabric laid out on the table, it’s soft and smooth under your fingertips. “Need something?”

He spares a glance to whatever you’re fidgeting with behind you then to your face, which in turn makes you fist the work-in-progress fabric tighter in your hand.

Alhaitham seems to search for something in your expression, his gaze feels like it’s poking and prodding in your soul. Your hands itch to cover up whatever’s he’s fixated on, but you settle on the second best option; staring back just as hard and ten times more intensely.

“The second button of my shirt,” he says, Alhaitham points at his stark white button up, right where a button lay missing. You arch a brow at that, he’s most definitely only here to ask you to mend his shirt. No other reason.

And you are definitely not disappointed right now too.

Swallowing hard, your eyes drift to his face. “Do you need a replacement button?”

A crease forms between his brows. “No.”

Well.

“O-kay,” that stumps you, “What about it then?” you shoot him a puzzled look, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

That makes him pause. “I wanted to check if you wanted it.”

“…your button?”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here.”

He must be kidding. The two of you are standing in the homeroom lab, there’s a surplus of small white buttons, you’d rather pick from there than have him ruin a perfectly good shirt.

“Uh no thanks,” you scratch at the back of your neck, extremely confused. “I have a lot more buttons in the drawer, there’s no need to take one off your back.”

Once you said that and saw the expression on his face, you knew immediately that it was the wrong choice—even if it wasn’t a test question. Alhaitham does not pout, but that’s something he would say. If you were asked, the way his lips twitch downward slightly is pouting.

“I understand,” he says shortly and starts to turn back and reach for the door. You cannot hide your bewildered expression, pinching your brows in confusion.

“Wait—hold it right there,” you call, stepping a step or two following him. You, not wanting your conversation to end on such an unusually awkward note. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” he says and you practically hear the sulky edge to his voice—something you swore he left back in middle school—still, he turns back to face you. “If you don’t want it, I won’t give it to you.”

Sighing, you step even closer to close some of the distance, holding your palm out impatiently to him. “Come over here, grumpy. I’ll take the button.”

He eases up slightly. “Don’t force yourself.”

Why you ought to wring this man by the neck. You place your free hand to rest on your waist. “You’re not forcing me, now hand it over.”

Alhaitham stands his ground, but eventually cracks, offering a compromise. “...I’ll leave it on the table.”

“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion and slight irritation—confusion more than anything. “See you, Haitham.”

He bids you goodbye, calling your name softly.

You hear the door slide open, then shut.

When you open your eyes, a singular translucent white button sits on your working table—along with a box of fine confectioners chocolate.

What a loser, you think. Though your smile betrays that thought.

You skip back to your work and suddenly, you aren’t so exhausted anymore.

[gay-wh0re-slut]

(sorry, english isn’t my first language) i’m not sure if you’re requests are open,but i wanted to tell you what an amazing writer you are.💜 you’re so gifted, i hope you never stop writing. could you do a Dom!rhea x inexperienced!fem fluffy smut. maybe like the readers first time, so rhea is supper attentive and caring… idk

just happy to be here😊

my requests are always open, but it might take me a while to get to them bc of my schedule but thank you so much, i’m glad you liked them!!! and of course i can, this is so sweet.

Gentle

rhea x fem!reader

content: super sweet rhea taking care of you in bed for your first time, super vanilla with an extremely tiny bit of praise.

You and Rhea were sat on the bed across from each other, she was sitting criss-cross while you were sitting on the side of your hip leaning on your hand. She was fiddling with your rings on your free hand while you listened to her talk.

“We can take it as slow as you need to,” she started.

You were…not sure how you felt but you stated earlier that you were ready to go for it. The two of you had been dating for a good few months now and she never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to but she always made some silly jokes with sexual undertones.

“Whenever you want to stop, just say so. I won’t do anything too crazy…yet,” she chuckled.

You laughed with her. She is always so caring about every aspect of your relationship, making sure you were okay in her big social events, making sure you got to your destination safely, and other things like that. You had never experienced such love before.

“Do you want a run down of what I am going to do or do you just want to play it by ear?” she continued.

“Hmm,” you thought as your heart thumped, “maybe… both? I’m not sure.”

“Well,” she scooted closer to you, “We’re gonna kiss that’s for sure. Then I’ll undress you, if that’s okay, of course, then-”

“Actually, I changed my mind. I’ll just go with the flow,” you spewed out.

“Okay baby, whatever you want. This is all on your terms,” she cupped your face rubbing her thumb over your cheek. She gave you a soft smile before kissing you.

“That’s so much pressure,” you looked down picking at imaginary lint.

“I know but it’ll be okay, I promise. I will not be upset if you want to stop,” she lifted your chin, “think of it this way, I’m doing most of the work, you just have to relax and enjoy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you released a breath of relief remembering how good she was to you in everyday life, which made you feel better that it would be the same in this new situation.

“We’ll take it slow,” she kissed you again, “however slow you want,” kisses you again, “however long it takes,” she kissed your jaw, “this is just for you,” she continued to kiss down your neck as a shockwave sent through your body.

A small whimper escaped you but you stopped it immediately.

“No, don’t be shy, make all the noise you want, it’s more fun that way,” she said slyly. She kissed her way back up your neck to your lips.

You sat there a while, your lips dancing against hers. It wasn’t the first time you’ve made out, that’s happened a lot, but this time was different. It felt special, maybe because it was, but you knew that you had nothing to worry about.

“Lay down,” she whispered.

So you did and watched as she crawled on top of you, again this wasn’t the first time you were in this position but it felt like it was. Your hands roamed all over her back and muscular arms as one of her hands traced your body and sneaked its way under your shirt.

Slowly, she grazed her hand over your breast, “this okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded as you held her face and began to kiss her again.

She smiled into the kiss as she gave a small squeeze and went back to tracing your body.

You stayed in this position for a while, her hands finding any skin she could get in contact with as you writhed under her.

The tattooed hand snuck its way to your waistband, “Can I take these off?” she breathed.

You hesitated a bit looking into her icy blue eyes, “yes.”

A devilish smirk grew on her face as she pulled your pants off of you, she didn’t go too far though and decided against taking off your underwear.

You shivered at the cool air but it quickly went away when she placed herself back on top of you. She rested on her elbow as she laid on her side with her leg over yours, pulling you in tightly with her free hand.

“Still okay?” she moved a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Mhmm,” you nodded with a smile.

“Do you want to go further or stay here a while?”

You thought about it for a minute, moving your hand over her thigh.

“You can go further,” you hesitated.

“Okay, baby. If you want to stop, just tell me. Again this is at your pace, I’m here to please you,” her voice was low and calm which calmed you in the process.

You nodded your head, biting your lip. Her free hand felt its way down your chest, to your stomach and down to your center. She gently slid her hand down making contact with your clit ever so slightly. Your hips jerked a little. She chuckled before going back to kissing you. The hand repeated this movement a few more times before adding more pressure. After a few moments of that, she changed her hand’s position and began to draw small circles over your sensitive bud.

“This okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” you said with a little more confidence.

She smiled into the kiss in response.

It’s not like you haven’t orgasmed before, but this was the first time someone else was doing it. So it didn’t take long for you to realize that the familiar feeling in your stomach was starting to form. You didn’t want to seem too desperate so you tried to hold off as long as you could.

Your hips were moving against her hand perfectly though and your breathing was becoming heavier, you weren’t sure if you could hold it. Small moans and whines have been escaping this whole time but they’ve gotten louder within the past few minutes.

“I know you want to,” she cooed, “don’t be shy now, princess. You’ve done so well for me.”

You didn’t know you liked praise until this very moment. Thankfully, the knot in your stomach finally released, “oh fuck,” you whimpered quietly. Your back arched, pushing your ribs into her as your nails dig into her muscular arm.

She let you ride it out as long as it took, watching you squirm under her, smiling and thinking of all the ways she could make you do this over and over and over.

Once you finally relaxed, she rested her head on her fist and landed her free hand on her side. You lolled to your back with your eyes closed, after realizing you unknowingly turned yourself into her during the process.

“How are you feeling?” she asked calmly.

“Good,” you turned to look at her with a small smile.

“Oh… well, next time I’ll make you feel great,” she giggled.

“Can’t wait.”

[hummingbee-o0o]

Picking Lint off the Sofa

“You’ve been cleaning more than me for the past three days.”

Daniel swipes the microfibre cloth over the spotless table one more time and refuses to accept what Armand’s just said.

“Look, this is important to me,” he says instead, then gives the table another spritz of cleaning liquid.

“I know that,” Armand says from where he’s lounging on the sofa, tablet in his hands, wearing only obscenely expensive silk boxers and an open, plum-violet robe dripping off his body. “Which is why I’m not stepping in, per your request. Also, there’s no need to use detergents with microfibres; the multi-stranded fibre structure—”

“Are you on Wikipedia again?”

“No, Minecraft.” Armand shows off the screen proudly, like a kid with macaroni art.

“Looks great, babe.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been a shit father, you know that. They deserved so much fucking better, they still do, but they still worry about me. That’s… I can’t waste that, Armand.”

“I’m sure you won’t, beloved.”

Daniel wipes the cleaning liquid off the table, polishes around the edges.

“I mean, we’re gonna officially put me in the ground in a couple years, so I just want to give them at least a few half-decent memories with me, for fuck’s sake! But now they think I’ve got dementia because I’m writing gay vampire erotica and shacking up with a twink who’s a third my age. They also probably think I’m using again, because I definitely act high during interviews. Fuck, I am high, just on human fucking blood instead of crack or heroin. What am I supposed to do here?”

Armand looks at him steadily with those large, amber eyes.

“That’s been clean for the past five minutes.”

---

The sight of Daniel assiduously cleaning is, frankly, disturbing.

Firstly, it’s unnatural: it’s a sign that something is deeply wrong in Daniel Molloy’s world if he suddenly concerns himself with tidiness.

And secondly, he’s terrible at it. Armand loves him unceasingly and rapaciously, but he really thinks no love could be so blind as to claim Daniel is any good at cleaning. Not even his.

Of course, he’s very well aware what’s causing his beloved so much distress: his daughters are supposed to come over for a visit. They’ve reached out, concerned about Daniel’s recent and very public behaviour, and they both agreed to come over to ‘catch up’.

“I think it’s nice,” Armand points out while Daniel rearranges the sofa cushions for the eighth time.

“It’s not nice, Armand, it’s a goddamn wellness check.”

“And your daughters caring about your wellness is not nice because…?”

“Because I’ll have to explain why I’m acting like I’m using or demented or both without making them call an ambulance to give me a stroke eval.”

There’s a game Armand sometimes likes to play: keep prodding and see at which point Daniel will realise he’s being funny on purpose.

“I could easily alter the memories of anyone called to examine you.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not helping.”

Oh, Armand is very well aware of that. He was told not to, wasn’t he. Therefore, he issues another prod.

“This might actually be a good way to assuage your daughters’ concerns.”

“Jesus Christ, please don’t do this.”

Armand is on what he believes people call ‘a roll’ these days.

-

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Hellooo I LOVE your writing and was wondering if you could do another part of 'Papier' the story with Joe Goldberg 🥹 Thank you and Have a wonderful day!

Of course!

I’ve since finished the new season entirely and found it just fine. I heard quite a few unfavourable things before going into it, but I actually didn’t feel pulled in that same direction… it wasn’t that bad.

Warnings: power imbalance, Joe being a creep.

My eyes skim the pages, all different, all beginnings, unused introductions that didn't quite make the cut. You're good at this, at writing and adding... but you never quite rid yourself of the past. You tuck it away for later; perhaps a better thought will emerge from stirring the mind with old prose or, maybe, you have a fear of losing things.

I glance over the paper and look at you, sitting on the chaise in front of my desk, in my office, legs crossed and hands resting atop your knee. Your bag is by your feet. I smile and lower the draft.

"These are good," I say. "but you've given me better."

You nearly deflate at my words, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes burn holes into the back of your paper. It's not what you had handed in for your midterm, but it is an older copy for us to look through.

I blink, tucking in my top lip for a moment as I think.

"What's up?" I ask.

Your eyes flick up to mine.

“What?”

I move back and sit on my desk, discarding the papers by my side to give you my full attention.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” I point out.

“I just…” You pinch your lips momentarily, timidly moving your eyes somewhere along my desk. “I feel like I’m moving backwards.”

“Would you like to unpack this feeling?”

“I don’t see how it’ll make a difference.”

At that, I smile.

“Sometimes talking things through can help. What are you worried about?”

You look away for a moment, pensive. You’re thinking of what to say, or perhaps you’re searching for a way to say it.

“Failure.” You admit plainly.

“Do you think you’re failing?” I then ask, and you shift in your seat.

“Yes, and I want to do something about it. Anything.”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

After a moment’s silence, I push myself off my desk and take a step to you. Your eyes look up into mine as I approach.

Once your chin lifts, and I’m intimately close to your sitting form, I speak the question I had been dying to ask since your ass sat down in my office.

“Would you like me to give you some options?”

You gulp, the action drawing my eyes for a split moment. I grind my teeth, wondering loosely if this had been how Beck’s professors felt about her.

“What are my options?” You whisp, unsure of what you’re truly asking from me.

My hand rises, and I pretend to catch lint off your shoulder. I flick it away with a broadening smile. My fingers follow the knit of your sweater, then, languidly stroking my way down to your collarbone.

“When I’m not holding a class, I’m frequently in my office. The first option is simple: we meet here, five days a week.”

Your eyes swirl with fear. “I can’t do that, I’m full-time. I don’t have availabilities every day.”

“If the frequency of our sessions is going to be a problem, the other option will have to include longer sessions.”

Watching your face contort uncomfortably as you think over your dilemma has me giddy with excitement.

“Are you alright with studying late?” I ask.

You shift in your seat. No. You’re not okay with it. What will become of the little social life you’ve managed to maintain? The small amount of me-time you’re going to lose?

You nod and my hand finds your shoulder again, giving you a reassuring squeeze as you tense below my fingers.

“I can do nights, but my office can’t stay open past a certain time. I hope you understand that. I’ll gladly accept you into my home, if you’re willing to try. Two nights a week, maybe? How does that sound?”

“What nights?” You ask.

“Tuesday and Thursday.” I respond, watching you closely.

“I can do that.” Your voice is small as you speak, you’ve shrunk. Defeated. You don’t want to accept my terms, but you know you have to.

I pull my hand away, turn, and scratch at my beard with a pleasant hum. My hands ache with the need to touch you, to touch myself, but I reach for pen and paper instead, scribbling down my address.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Little Freak*

pairing: dbf harry x reader

warnings: i don’t remember but smut and cursing

~

YN’s eye twitches for what seems like the twentieth time in five minutes as she watches the scene in front of her. Sitting on her parents’ family room couch, she has a perfect view of Harry and an old friend of his, Vanessa.

The two are entirely too close for her liking, Vanessa obviously flirting with Harry as she rests her hand on his bicep and lets out a loud laugh at something he’d said. YN lets out an annoyed scoff, taking another sip of her beverage as she keeps a close eye on the woman who’s throwing herself all over him.

She’s able to keep calm for about ten minutes longer, but she’s fed up when she sees Harry reach up and pluck a piece of lint out of Vanessa’s hair, and then she’s reaching her limit. YN hurriedly stands from the couch, placing her drink down before making her way to the two with a sarcastic smile on her face.

The two of them don’t even notice her approaching them, but the second Harry sees her, he’s straightening up and taking a step back from the woman with a nervous chuckle. He already knows where this is going, cursing himself for letting this happen in the first place.

“Hey, YN! How are you?” Harry asks, avoiding all eye contact with Vanessa as he speaks to his girlfriend.

“I’m pretty good, Harry. How have you been?” she asked, looking directly into his eyes as Vanessa stands beside them awkwardly. Harry responds with a tight lipped smile and an ‘I’ve been great’ before the three fall into complete awkward silence, Harry and YN’s eyes locked.

After a while, she says nothing verbally, but she speaks to her boyfriend with her eyes, her stare saying that she’s very displeased with his actions and that she’s definitely going to be a brat tonight. Stepping away from the two, YN gives Vanessa a small nod before turning away and making her way back to the couch in frustration.

~

The remainder of the evening passes fairly slow for Harry, each passing moment making him more and more nervous to see what YN’s mind is coming up with. He knows he’s in for a tough night when he sees her stand from the soft couch and go grab another cupful of her alcoholic beverage just to walk toward Harry and Vanessa, ‘tripping’ and spilling it on him.

She gasps out a fake worried apology, offering to clean him up, but he brushes it off, trying to keep his composure. She was truly hoping while she was ‘cleaning him up’ in the bathroom furthest from the guests, her pound her into the sink, fucking her until she struggled to breathe.

Her blood boils when Vanessa takes over, taking him by the hand and leading him to the exact same bathroom that YN hoped to occupy with her boyfriend. An angry scowl makes its way onto her face and she moves away, heading back to the couch in defeat. She plops down sadly, pulling her phone out to scroll through and keep herself distracted from whatever is happening in the bathroom between Vanessa and Harry.

No more than two minutes later, YN sees a shadow darken her vision before she feels a presence sit down next to her on the couch. Looking up at the person, a surprised chuckle is leaving her lips as she sees one of her old friends, Chase, accompanying her.

Chase greets her and embraces her with a hug that lasts just a moment too long, and it makes her uncomfortable for only a split second. If it were any other circumstance, she’d be moving away with some excuse to leave him sitting there, but she really wanted to get back at Harry for flirting with someone right in front of her.

She slides closer to him on the couch before she’s leaning back and relaxing into it, engaging in conversation with the douchebag beside her. A bit of disappointment bubbles in her chest as she talks to him, remembering why they’d grown apart in the first place.

Every few minutes his eyes trail down to her breasts that are very well covered, or to her bare legs that sat crossed in front of her. She’s actually disgusted with herself for going through with this just because of some harmless flirting, but it’s too late to back out now. She’s letting out fake laughs at each passing comment he makes to her, and she tunes him out the second she glances around the room sees Harry looking at her with anger evident on his face. She doesn’t know when he came from the bathroom, but she can definitely tell he’s pissed at her.

His foot is tapping against the hardwood floor erratically as he tries to keep his composure, watching the pair flirt right in front of him. He’s able to stay calm for a while, but when he sees Chase place his hand on YN’s bare thigh and lean in to whisper something in her ear, he’s turning red. The very last straw is when he sees her bashfully giggle and playfully push him away, the sight making Harry angry beyond words.

YN’s heart is pounding in her chest as she watches her boyfriend leave without so much as a goodbye to any of his friends. She quickly makes up a reason to excuse herself and makes her way outside a few paces behind him, trying not to be suspicious.

When she makes it outside, she sees Harry stop at his car and open the passenger side for her. “Get in,” is all he says, and she does so immediately, the tone of his voice scaring her just a bit. Silently, he puts the car in drive and slowly pulls away from her parents’ house, taking the route to his house slowly.

~

Pulling into his driveway, he throws the car in park and kills the engine, just staring ahead as he thinks of what he’s going to do to her tonight. The couple sits in silence for about five minutes, YN fiddling with her fingers anxiously.

Inhaling sharply, Harry takes off his seat belt and opens the car door to climb out. She thinks he’s going to just go in the house, but he stops just as he gets out. “Go up to my bedroom and strip naked. You better be on your knees by the time I get up there,” he says, closing the door a bit too hard and startling YN slightly.

She’s in shock for only a few seconds, throwing the door open and hurriedly making her way up to his bedroom and doing as he says. Not knowing where he wants her, she just kneels at the foot of the bed and faces the entry to the bedroom, awaiting her boyfriend’s arrival.

Her knees start to ache after a while, and she’s almost starting to think that he’s just going to leave her there all night, and then she hears it. The unmistakable sound of his feet hitting the floor as he gets closer to his bedroom. Her heart is thumping in her chest erratically as the steps get louder and louder, and the second she sees him pause in the doorway in all his glory, her breath catches in her throat.

The light green hue of his pretty eyes is long gone, replaced with a darker, deeper green as anger and arousal pumps through his veins. He looks her up and down and hums in satisfaction; she’s done exactly what he told her.

Her lover takes slow, taunting steps toward her, his eyes locked with hers as he towers over her cowering frame. He takes a seat at the foot of the bed, nodding for her to turn to face him entirely. No words are spoken as he reaches up slowly with his right hand, placing it on the side of her face gently. She nuzzles into his touch with a whimper before he’s moving his thumb down to her lip, swollen from her nervous nibbling.

He rubs his thumb over the soft skin lightly before letting her go abruptly. “Over my knee,” he demands nonchalantly, amused by the sight of her scrambling to obey. “Such a good girl,” he praises, smirking and shaking his head slightly as he hears a small moan come from her.

“Do you know why you’re getting punished tonight?” he questions, rubbing his hands up and down her bare ass gently. She nods against him meekly, her hands falling limply toward the floor. “Why?”

“Because I was bad,” she murmurs quietly, ashamed at her own actions.

A small hum leaves his closed lips, not satisfied with her answer. “That’s not good enough. How were you bad?” he asks impatiently, his hands getting a bit rougher on her soft skin.

“Because I got jealous,” she whispers, her eyes welling with tears. An affronted grunt comes from him, his head shaking side to side disapprovingly. He moves to help her sit up on the bed beside him, shocking her.

“No, Love. That’s not why I’m mad at you,” he whispers, thumbing at her warm tears. Her eyes squeeze shut as she takes in his words before they’re fluttering open in confusion, her head tilting lightly. “Don’t ever think I’m mad at you for having emotions, I understand. I know I was too close to her,” he continues, disappointed in himself.

“Then why?” she questions quietly, looking into his softened eyes. Leaning up, he presses a quick kiss to her soft lips before he’s pulling back and rubbing over her face once more.

“Was mad at you because y’didn’t talk to me when y’got angry. Instead, you decided to throw yourself at the bloke who was only trying to get in y’panties,” he tuts, angered at the thought alone. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you,” he mutters softly, upset he made her think that. He’s immediately pressing gently kisses all over her face to somewhat make her feel better, although he knows it’s nowhere near enough.

YN doesn’t miss the use of ‘was’, relief flooding her at the term. She nods understandingly, a choked sob leaving her lips. He instantly takes her into his arms and rubs his warm hand up and down her bare back, comforting her. As soon as she’s calm he’s pulling away and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe her face before pulling it over his head and tossing it somewhere beside them.

“Do y’want to call it a night? Take a warm bath and try again tomorrow?” he questions, not wanting her to feel like he expected sex from her right now. She shakes her head firmly almost instantly, taking him by surprise. He’s not entirely sure he believes her, needing more confirmation. “Are y’sure? Be honest, we can always get some snacks and watch a movie or something,” he reminds her, and she’s shaking her head once more.

“No, want you to play with me tonight,” she responds, reaching down to palm at his cock, which instantly starts to harden once more under her touch. A soft moan leaves his lips at the feeling, and he sees her lean closer to him before pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. Surprised, he deepens it and reaches his hand around to her backside, landing a small but sharp hit on the flesh.

The slight sting makes her mouth drop open in a moan, giving Harry the opportunity to slip his tongue into her open mouth as he rubs the sore area gingerly. The two indulge in the make out session for a bit more, Harry wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer. He ends up pulling her until she rests over his bulge, and she immediately gets the bright idea to grind her bare cunt onto his pants, the two of them hissing at the contact.

A small whimper leaves her lips as she gets accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling of the rough denim on her soft folds, experimenting with another desperate grind of her hips. At the same time, Harry bucks up at the touch, and it grazes her clit so deliciously that it has a wail falling from her parted lips as she chases her orgasm.

She continues grinding against the denim erratically, trying to find the perfect rhythm to get to her high. Just as she feels the burning deep in her belly, she feels Harrys grip tighten on her hips before he holds her in place, making her huff in frustration.

“What are you doing?” she demands, her voice thick with irritation as her orgasm fades away. “I was so close, what did you do that for?”

“You don’t get to question me, not after tonight,” he replies firmly, making all of her brattiness melt away. She nods gently at his words, awaiting further instruction.

“Get on the bed, I need to see you,” he demands, and she’s scrambling to obey, sitting in the centre. She watches intently as he climbs from the bed and goes to her bedside table, opening the drawer that houses her toys. Her eyes widen substantially as she realizes what’s going to happen, squeezing her thighs together as her pussy throbs in anticipation.

Pulling out her vibrator, Harry makes his way back over to the bed and climbs onto the edge, passing it to her. She takes it hesitantly and looks at him confusedly. She thought he was going to use it on her.

With a condescending chuckle, he shakes his head. “Don’t act all dumb now. I know you use this when I’m not around. Show me how you play with yourself when I’m not available,” he explains, smirking when a surprised moan falls from her lips.

She rests back against the headboard of the bed, spreading her legs and giving her a wonderful view of her messy cunt. His cock is instantly twitching inside of his jeans, sticky precum leaking from the head as he tries to keep some restraint.

Turning the vibrator on medium, she presses it against her sensitive clit firmly, her body jerking at the stimulation. Desperate for an orgasm, she turns it up to the highest setting, something she only does when she needs to be quick, and starts rubbing in clockwise circles over the head of her clit.

“Fuck,” she wails, throwing her head back and reaching her free hand up to play with her nipples. She hears a grunt come from Harry, and picks her head back up to see his jeans around his thighs and his fist around his cock as he pumps it desperately.

The sexy sight in front of her has her eyes closing in pleasure, her orgasm already near. “No,” she hears, making her eyes snap open. “Keep your eyes on me. Look into my eyes while you play with yourself like a slut,” he demands, and it only makes it harder for her to do so. Her eyelids get heavier and heavier as the seconds pass, but she tries her hardest to keep them open for him.

Her breath gets caught in her throat as her orgasm is just moments away, keeping her eyes locked on his. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” she cries, her mouth dropping open and her back arching violently as her orgasm tears through her, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she rolls her hips against the vibrator. When she can’t take anymore, she drops the vibrator without even turning it off, pressing her thighs together as her sensitive vagina literally pulses.

She’s struggling to catch her breath, and Harry hurriedly strips naked before grabbing her vibrator and turning it off, tossing it to the side before climbing behind her on the bed. He’s rubbing up and down her body gently, soothing her from her intense orgasm. Soft whimpers fall from her lips as she comes down, and when she’s calm, her eyes are opening, looking at him with a loopy grin.

“Y’alright?” he asks, chuckling when she nods lazily. “That was good, hm?”

She nods, and slides up so her back is flush against his chest. “So fucking good,” she pants, her vision still spotty.

“I bet. Can you go again?” he inquires concernedly, and she chuckles before confirming that she’s okay. “My needy little baby,” he teases, reaching down to spread her thighs gently. “Gonna let me play with you?”

“Fuck, please play with me,” she begs, her hips bucking against his hand as he starts to tease her, gently trailing his fingers over her inner thigh, soft ghost-like touches.

“What do you need from Daddy?” he grits out, his hand running up and down her thigh teasingly. Frustrated, she moves his hand to her pussy and bucks into it, showing him exactly where she is wants him.

“Use your words or I won’t let you cum, is that understood?” he spits, wrapping his free hand around her throat to let her know he’s serious.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry,” she whispers, and he hums in acknowledgment, awaiting the rest of her statement. “Can you rub my pussy, please?” she asks timidly, and that gets a smile from him.

“Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he questions, reaching down to play with her folds a bit before placing two fingers on her clit and rubbing gently.

“No, fuck, no sir,” she stutters, bucking her hips into his touch. He moves his hand away quickly before landing a sharp slap to her sensitive pussy, a cry of shock leaving her lips.

“Stay still. I didn’t tell you to move,” he reminds her, and she’s apologizing instantly. Satisfied, he moves his hand back down to her centre and wastes no time in sinking two fingers in. He buries them to the hilt immediately, making YN hiss at the cool metal of his rings against the heat of her lips.

“So fucking wet,” he rasps, his leaking cock twitching against her back as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of her tight pussy. “Cunt gets so wet f’daddy, I swear,” he moans, her cries of pleasure only spurring him on. Her hands are fisting the sheets on either side of him, and she’s trying her hardest to follow his instruction and stay still.

She can feel her second orgasm of the night burning deep in her belly, her eyes rolling back as he pushes her closer and closer with each pump of his fingers. A frustrated cry leaves her lips as he removes his fingers just as she’s about to fall over the edge of bliss.

“I know, lovie. You were so close, ‘m sorry,” he coos sympathetically as tears of frustration stream down her face. “You’re just so wet you’re making m’rings slide right off,” he explains, pulling them from his fingers.

The second they’re off, he’s sinking his fingers into her once more, a cry of relief leaving her lips as he does. “Gonna give you what you need, honey. Y’can cum whenever you need to, okay?” he asks over her sobs of pleasure.

She’s nodding furiously and her hips are bucking involuntarily against his hand, but he doesn’t care, letting her take what she needs from him. Not even a minute later, he’s shocked to feel her entire body freeze and her vagina lock down on him so tight he can barely move his hand.

Not wanting her orgasm to fade, he reaches down with his free hand and rubs all four fingers over her clit quickly, sending her over the edge with a loud sob of his name. A deep groan bubbles in his chest as he feels warm liquid seep through his fingers, streams of her orgasm squirting against his hand.

Harry is in pure shock as his mind finally catches up to what just happened. He’s never made YN squirt so much and it has his heart thumping in his chest. Sure, he’d made her squirt a few times, but it was nowhere near as much as now, the entire duvet soaked beneath them.

When he finally feels her taut hole relax, he’s easing his fingers out slowly and wrapping his arms around her twitching body, knowing her orgasm took a lot from her, but they’re nowhere near done.

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he coos, pressing a kiss to her hair and rubbing up and down her sore belly, wound tight from her intense orgasm. He lets her rest for a few minutes before he’s lifting her up and lining his cock up with her still quivering entrance, manhandling her right onto his cock.

A cry of shock leaves her lips as he breaches her, her eyes instantly rolling back into her head. She can feel the engorged head of him nudging at her g-spot, and it has her trying to move away in overstimulation just to feel him grip her hips tighter. Harry literally holds her down on his cock, not letting her move an inch as she starts to finally relax around him.

“Good girl,” he praises her, rubbing up and down her hips. He takes a moment to adjust himself, flattening his feet on the bed and leaning back to pound into her from below, working her on his hard cock.

Her hands are flailing as she struggles to find something to ground herself, and when her hands land on his bent knees she lets out a cry of relief as he wrecks her from below.

Harry’s teeth are grinding against one another as he uses his strength to keep fucking into her, swears leaving his swollen lips. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out, some sweat dripping into his eye and burning it slightly. “So fucking tight and you still manage to take my cock like a champ; Every. Fucking. Time,” he pants, punctuating the last three words with brutal thrusts.

No coherent words are leaving her lips, just loud sobs of his title over and over. Her eyes are squeezed shut as each thrust overstimulates her, the slight sting making her mind foggy.

“Look at you, baby. All dumb on my cock,” he teases, nipping gently at her earlobe as her mouth hangs open. The feeling of his cock in her walls erased all thoughts from her brain, and he knows it, the cocky motherfucker. “My dumb little baby,” he coos, reaching down to press two fingers to her throbbing clit and rubbing right on the head gently.

The action has her locking down on him once more, another orgasm wracking through her body. It’s all happening so quickly that Harry has to bite down on his knuckle to keep himself from cumming right then and there.

He doesn’t even give her much time to come down from her orgasm before he’s climbing up onto his knees and pushing her upper body until her face is buried in the damp duvet. As soon as he’s sure she’s comfortable, he’s pulling out so that his tip is resting at her entrance before slamming all the way back into her. He instantly sets a brutal pace, each thrust pushing her further up the bed, but he’s gripping her hips and pulling them back to meet his thrusts.

She’s screaming into the bedding, unable to even form thoughts as he doesn’t let up on his pace, his grip so tight she’s sure she’ll have bruises when she wakes up tomorrow. His pace is quick and brutal, the head of his cock grazing her cervix lightly.

Pulling out to slam back into her, a frustrated groan leaves his lips when his sopping cock just slides against her pussy, missing the hole entirely.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet I can’t even stay in you,” he grunts, slamming into her once more. Her screams only get louder as he keeps pushing her toward another orgasm, and it’s going to be big. Her nails are practically tearing the duvet, her body limp as he wrecks her. Tears of pleasure are leaking onto the bedding, and drool is falling from her mouth as she’s unable to keep it closed.

Sensing she’s close again, he encourages her. “Cmon, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock. I know you’re close, m’love. Just cream on my cock, make a mess on me,” he coos, his hand on the small of her back. Her body flies forward with one last thrust, a loud sob coming from her raw throat as she cums around him once more, her body shaking violently.

He helps her flip onto her back as her body still convulses, tears leaking from her eyes. Taking his thumb, he wipes underneath gently as she comes down slowly, her glossy eyes starting to focus again. Blinking, her eyes are no longer cloudy as she looks at him, entirely fucked out.

“Okay, baby. Almost done. Can you take me again?” he whispers, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead as she nods. He presses a chaste kiss to her swollen lips before helping her lie down on her back and climbing between her legs.

He’s kneeling on the bed, stroking his sensitive cock a few times before sliding closer to her. A small smile forms on his face as he takes in her messy hair, bruised lips, and glossy eyes.

Lining the leaking head of his cock to her quivering entrance, he looks up at her for permission, and she nods. He runs the head through her sopping folds a few times to lubricate himself again, the both of them hissing at the slight pleasure before he’s grabbing her leg and placing it on his waist, sliding into her slowly.

Both of their mouths drop open in pleasure as he sheathes himself inside of her warmth, her walls immediately clenching down on him as she tries to keep him there. “Shit, honey. Squeezing me so tight,” he hisses, grabbing the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm that’s already started blooming deep in his belly.

For about two minutes he’s just stationary inside of her, letting the two of them adjust to the new position. She’s peppering kisses all over his sweaty chest as she waits for him, wrapping her legs around his waist to get him as deep as possible.

“Ready f’me?” he whispers, moving his right hand down to thumb at her sensitive clit. She’s immediately nodding with a whiny moan, digging her heels into his lower back.

“Please, H. Need it so bad,” she begs, her words coming out choked as desperation overtakes her. She needs to feel him cum deep inside of her, to flood her womb and give her his baby.

No more words are said as he pulls out just to drop his hips back to hers slowly, her bottom lip taking refuge between her teeth as she feels a bulging vein on the underside of his head graze her g-spot in the most delicious way. The stimulation has her back arching and her head lolling to the side, the single push of his hips stirring another orgasm.

“Okay, baby,” he rasps, trying his hardest to keep up the exact pace to get her to her orgasm. “I know you’re so close again. One more and I’ll fill you up, gonna give you my baby,” he whispers, reaching down to thumb at her clit gently. No sounds come from her mouth as she cums around him, her hole locking down on him as she tries to keep him there.

“G’na cum, baby,” he rasps, grinding his hips against hers as he chases his orgasm, her velvety walls milking his cock as her hole still twitches from her orgasm just moments before. “Need to cum in you, can I do that please?” he murmurs, burying his face into her neck and pressing gentle kisses there as his stomach tightens and his balls draw up.

She wraps her arms around him to pull him closer and nods feverishly, giving him permission. With three more deep thrusts, he’s letting out a deep groan and stilling his hips. His toes are curled and his eyes are squeezed shut as his orgasm tears through his body. Spurt after spurt of his warm cum fills her and she shivers at the warmth it gives her, making her relax into the bed as he pants into her neck.

The two lie there, with him atop her as the two try to calm down a bit, and the second he’s recovered, he’s slowly pulling his softening cock from her messy hole, apologizing when she whines quietly in pain. He rests back onto his knees, looking at his worn out girlfriend as her chest heaves with laboured breaths.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up. That was a lot, hm?” Harry whispers, rubbing his warm hands up and down her arms as she nods weakly, still recovering from her orgasm. “You need a minute?” he asks, and she nods once more.

He decides to give her some time to recover, running to the bathroom to run them a nice warm bath with bubbles and all of the soothing ingredients to ensure that she’ll sleep well tonight.

The steam from the bath fogs up every glass surface in the room, and Harry stays in there for a while to make sure it doesn’t overflow. As soon as it’s filled enough to cover them, he runs back into the room to help YN into the bathroom and letting her pee before letting her ease into the warm water.

Placing another kiss to her forehead, he informs her that he’ll be right back, running into his bedroom to change the sheets as she soaks for a few minutes. When he’s all done, he makes his way back into the bathroom before sliding into the bathtub behind her, wrapping his arms around her as she leans into his touch.

They just soak for a while, basking in each other’s presence and warmth. The quiet sound of the water swishing back and forth occasionally is all they can hear besides each other’s breathing, and it’s so comfortable and relaxing that YN starts to fall asleep right there in his arms.

Harry takes that as his queue to get her cleaned up, gently washing in between her legs before cleaning the rest of her. He decides they’ll shower in the morning for their hair, and he climbs from the warm water before helping her out and drying them off. As soon as they’re dry, the two make their way back to his bedroom and climb into bed, not even bothering to clothe themselves.

Harry switched off the lights and it’s like magic; they instantaneously fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the warm pillows and they are wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, exhausted snores fill his bedroom all the way until the early morning when the two wake up and prepare for a day alone together.

[stromuprisahat]

Regarding Nikolai. it’s insane how the author and the fandom close their eyes and baby him. When he SA Alina, pushed her in a carriage so she could react, and then immediately gaslit her to think out was okay. He’s the one who actually used her and manipulated her to and succeed in getting the Ravkan crown. but the worst crime he has is the one where right after Genya tells him his father* and king is a rapist…..Nikolai rewarded the king. Nikolai covered up the king’s crime, made sure he received no trial at all, that no girls received justice, and to rub salt in the wound he gave the King a full expense paid retirement vacation with a “life full of luxury….safety” and even let the king choose where he would retire..oh sorry…LB calls it “exile.” So the King who never wanted to rule the nation, only wanted a life of luxury and attacking girls…gets a life of luxury far far away where he has no care or worry and he is free to attack any and all servants I’ve had in his luxury retirement. Leigh Bardugo should have re-read chapter 11 of ruin and rising. Rich white savior born with a silver spoon that manipulates, SA, and uses Alina go get in power let’s his father figure who literally SA’d genya and other girls go free and rewarded.

*father figure - publicly his father privately not really the bio dad And I call BS on the R&R proclamation that Nikolai didn’t know the king was a rapist. Nikolai was raised in the same halls, if the king’s reputation was so well known like LB keeps claiming it was in RoW then Nikolai would 100% know about it before he left for the military.

I have a problem with understanding Nikolai's actions.

It's caused by his moral alignment.

I simply cannot grasp how can someone put rules, established by other humans- therefore possibly faulty-, above preventing possible injustice. (Yes, I'm true neutral.) How can "a good" person be stopped by immaterial concept? If he believed there's some higher power, eventually judging all human actions, but he's an atheist!

What makes it more complicated, is his seeming moral flexibility. I'm not even halfway through Siege and Storm, and he doesn't seem bothered by lying, stealing, manipulation... is a piece of paper truly such a difference? Nobody wrote down rules about particular situations, so he can do whatever he pleases?

A bit of a hypocrite, isn't he?

... As he was helping me back into the coach, he slipped his arm around my waist. “Please don’t punch me,” he whispered. Then he yanked me hard against his chest and pressed his lips to mine. The crowd exploded into wild cheers, their voices crashing over us in an exultant roar. Before I could even react, Nikolai shoved me into the shadowy interior of the coach and slipped in after. He slammed the door behind him ... I turned on Nikolai and kicked him hard in the shin. He yelped, but that wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. I kicked him again. “Feel better?” he asked. “Next time you try something like that, I won’t kick you,” I said angrily. “I’ll cut you in half.” He brushed a speck of lint from his trousers. “Not sure that would be wise. I’m afraid the people rather frown on regicide.” “You’re not king yet, Sobachka,” I said sharply. “So don’t tempt me.” “I don’t see why you’re upset. The crowd loved it.” “I didn’t love it.” He raised a brow. “You didn’t hate it.” I kicked him again. This time his hand snaked out like a flash and captured my ankle. If it had been winter, I would have been wearing boots, but I was in summer slippers and his fingers closed over my bare leg. My cheeks blazed red. “Promise not to kick me again, and I’ll promise not to kiss you again,” he said. “I only kicked you because you kissed me!” I tried to pull my leg back, but he kept a hard grip. “Promise,” he said. “All right,” I bit out. “I promise.” “Then we have a deal.”

Siege and Storm- Chapter 11

This isn't gaslighting. It's another kind of manipulation, if anything. He's playing it down, but in his case I'd say it isn't caused by some malevolent intentions, but different view on the matter. He's playing a part. While he isn't repulsed by the idea of kissing Alina, he didn't do it for his personal enjoyment, but to cement their union in eyes of the people.

Alina, on the other hand, doesn't intend to become anything more than her own private person. She views the kiss only as a transgression against her.

Nikolai is a people-pleaser, who obviously displeased Alina. While he might be manipulating Alina so he doesn't have to deal with her anger, it might also be an attempt to make it better. Children often do this. I did a bad thing, but if we both agree it wasn't SO bad, it will get better.

His swift reaction outside the carriage was about preventing Alina to ruin the image he just painted. It's not hard to figure out she's quick to anger and much slower to think. He already tried to introduce her to the concept of being a public person. When pure theory fails, apply more practical approach?

This is another example of Nikolai "The Diet Darkling" Lantsov in action. Collar Alina to take over her world-changing abilities to end wars is absolutely despicable, while mere kiss to use her status of Living Saint for run on position of power's possible to overlook, because Nikolai's motivations are noble. I guess that's the difference between Royalty reaching for the Crown and serf reaching for the chance to live.

The rape confrontation feels weak and unsatisfying, thanks to NIkolai's lack of spine, or fixation on Ravkan law, depending on your POV. Apparently he acted according to their legal system. I have a half-written post on this, but since we're on the topic, I agree it's one on those examples, when law guarantees neither justice, nor prevention of future crimes, so instead of cheering for Nikolai's fairness, we're left upset with his decision.

“You will write the letter, and tomorrow you will leave on the Kingfisher. It will take you to Os Kervo, where you’ll be seen safely aboard the Volkvolny and across the True Sea. You can go someplace warm, maybe the Southern Colonies.” “The Colonies?” the Queen gasped. “You will have every luxury. You will be far from the fighting and the reach of the Darkling. You will be safe.”

Ruin and Rising- Chapter 7

Sure, it's exile, loss of power and prestige... but how is luxury a punishment? How is relocation to a peaceful place instead of constantly warring Ravka a punishment? And most importantly- how does it prevent the rapist from raping more servants? Or other helpless, young destitutes?

It's like sending a serial killer on a paid vacation, weapons of choice included.

[leiawritesstories]

Congrats on 500 followers! <3

A couple of prompts...

-I put you down as my emergency contact because I don’t know anyone else in the city, and we literally only met in passing, please forgive me but I am stuck at the ER and they won’t let me leave without you.

-First time meeting the parents

-“I would marry you again in a heartbeat.”

I got one from each list. Just leave Frederick on a leash? :)

🥰🥰🥰Thank you, my dear ❤️ *forcibly shoves Frederick back into the basement* You'll be pleased to know that Frederick has NOT been invited to the party 😂

also, both you and @renxzs asked for the "emergency contact" prompt, so I'll fill that one separately (and hopefully you'll like it hehe)

Word count: 814

Warnings: absolutely none :D

Enjoy!!

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

"I can feel my blood pressure going up just thinking about this stupid dinner." Aelin leaned back into Rowan's arms, biting at her lower lip like she always did when she was stressed.

"Fireheart, it'll be okay," Rowan promised, kissing the top of her head.

She blew out a sharp breath. "What if they hate me? What if my parents hate you? What if they decide we 'aren't right?' What if--"

"Hey." He cut off her rambling worries with a kiss, gentle and sweet. "Aelin, love, my mom and dad love you already, and they've only met you through my stories."

"Yeah," she admitted, her tense posture starting to relax. "I'm worried about my mom, though. Her standards are so fucking high."

Rowan flicked imaginary lint off of his suit jacket. "That's why I dressed to impress, love."

She chuckled softly. "You'll always impress me, love."

A soft smile curved his lips. "I love you, Fireheart."

"I love you too." She rested her head on his shoulder, drinking in the peace of the moment. "We really have to go, though."

He sighed. "Yeah, we do." Lacing his fingers with hers, Rowan led Aelin out of her apartment and down to where his car was waiting. He drove to the restaurant where they were meeting both sets of their parents for dinner, taking her hand as they got out of the car and headed across the parking lot. "It's gonna be perfect," he reassured her in a low whisper, squeezing her hand.

"I hope so," she murmured, squeezing his hand back.

The moment they walked entered the elegant, low-lit restaurant, they ran into the rush of Enna Whitethorn's enthusiasm. "Darling!" she chirped, folding Rowan into a breath-stealing hug. "Oh, it feels like we haven't seen you in forever, son!" She beamed, soft lines crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

"Hi, Mom," Rowan deadpanned, biting down on his mischievous grin. "It's literally been three months, calm down."

She pinched his cheek, which Aelin thought was completely adorable and something she'd never, ever let her stoic boyfriend live down. "That's too long, darling." Wrapping her hands around his arm, she steered him towards Aelin. "And who is this lovely lady? She's miles out of your league, my dear."

Rowan cleared his throat. "Mom, this is my girlfriend, Aelin."

"Oh, it's so wonderful to finally meet you, Aelin dear!" Enna embraced Aelin, who took a few seconds to realize what was happening before she hugged Enna back.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Aelin laughed. "I can totally see where Ro gets his sense of humor." She winked. "When he allows it to show, at least."

Enna clicked her tongue conspiratorially. "Mmm, yes, he's far too solemn for his own good. I'm sure you're fixing that, though."

"We practice his smile for twenty minutes every day," Aelin agreed, nodding along. "The goal is an hour, but twenty minutes is such an improvement from the ten seconds he started with."

Rowan muffled a groan. "You two are getting along far too well," he complained, affectionately stealing Aelin's hand and sliding it back into his.

Enna beamed at the two of them. "Let me take you back to where we're all sitting." She walked them towards the back of the restaurant, where Rhoe and Evalin Galathynius sat with Pyotr Whitethorn at a table set for six, chatting animatedly. "The young ones are here!" she announced.

The parents immediately stood up, coming over to the young couple for introductions. Aelin threw Rowan a dangerous smirk and wink before turning to her parents, greeting them with smiles and hugs and kisses.

"Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Rowan Whitethorn." She paused for dramatic effect. "My husband."

Halfway through shaking Rhoe Galathynius's hand, Rowan choked on air, coughing violently and blushing even harder. "Aelin!" he managed to wheeze as he caught his breath. "What?!"

Aelin burst into bright laughter. "Ah, love, the look on your face is too good." Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," Evalin gasped, muffling a smile as bright as her daughter's.

"Learned from the best," Aelin teased. "Rowan is my boyfriend, of course."

"Good." Rhoe kissed his daughter's cheek. "I won't start asking about grandkids, then."

"Dad!" Aelin's face flamed red. "You promised to behave!"

"That was before you decided to shock ten years off my life, Fireheart," Rhoe chuckled. "Fair play, hmm?"

"Fine," she acceded. After another few moments of greetings, they all took their seats, Aelin sliding in next to Rowan.

He took her hand under the table, sliding his thumb over the back of her palm. "Just so you know, love, I would marry you again in a heartbeat.”

She nudged his leg with her high heel. "That's still several years away, buzzard."

"Good luck convincing our parents of that," he joked. "They're already planning the wedding."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[gonkys-database]

You Talk Too Much

Authors note: Sneaky hand jobs in the Marauder cockpit

Summary: Tech talks too much. You can fix that (set before Season 1)

Relationship: Tech/GN!Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: hand jobs, soft dom reader, soft sub Tech, getting naughty in the cockpit, Tech is a nerd for ships

Words: 1832

He was cute, in a way you never quite thought ship schematics could be. For all his battles, for all his knowledge as a clone, yet still managing to find the little pieces of awe and wonder in the neighbouring ships on docking platforms.

Hunter's orders were clear;

Stay behind and watch the Marauder with Tech. The rest would head into the HUBworld for supplies and procurement. Call if anything happens.

"That is a Consular-class cruiser! With a modified engine! Certainly not legal from the thruster count or-Oh! That is a refurbished Rho-class shuttle." Tech tittered from the command chair beside you, fingers a flurry of movement over the console to bring up the schematics on file to compare their neighbours ships against, zooming in and out as he went.

"Has anyone ever told you, that you talk to much?" You ask, hardly meaning it in a cruel way from how you relax in your seat, chin propped on a fist as you watch him zip between holograms like a child on Christmas with a new toy. 

"Frequently, actually" Is all you get back, Tech leaning forwards as a ship banked overhead to a nearby platform, name rather incomprehensible at how quickly it is muffled by the soft hum of the next hologram activating and the clone right into his next little chatter of pros and cons to its current upgrades.

Hunter said they'd be back within the hour ... You'd have plenty of time.

"And, how often have they done something about it?" You ask next, a boot coming over to the arm rest to hook the tow behind, gently spinning the engineer around to face you, lacing your fingers together over your knee to regard him.

"... I am not sure I follow?" Oh, bless him. Brains of the mission, clueless outside it.

"I am flirting, Tech" You can't help but chuckle as you see the little lightbulb blink on above his head, and hands slowly pull his lenses down over his face. 

"Oh. Oh, I see  ... Apologies" Well, the glasses might hide his blazing cheeks, but his ears are certainly that 'Bad Batch' signature red. Cute.

"... I can go keep watch outside. Don't worry about it" You offer at the way the cockpit fizzles into silence, Tech in some state of probable rebooting. You'd volunteer to help out wherever Tech wasn't if it causes any tension later. Blame confined spaces and good company. 

Pushing up from your chair with a grunt, a roll of shoulders at how close quarters this ship can be but its ... quaint, you decide as you turn to step down from the cockpit only to turn at a sharp little 'Wait!' behind you. A noise that you ever so slowly turn around to regard Tech about, a brow raised expectantly for the rest. He's spun completely around to face you, even if he can't seem to hold eye contact for a moment before his hands become the most interesting thing in the ship and bothered by imaginary lint or a fascinating scuff he hadn't noticed before.

"Uh, no. That, that won't be necessary" Tech murmurs, gaze constantly flicking up to and away from you behind his little lenses as he fidgets, slowly flicking through holograms as he finds his words. "I'm, uh ... I like that you listen to me?"

"Do the others not?"

"Not always. Echo, occasionally, but mostly, no?" 

"That is a shame. You have a nice voice" You hum, stepping back up into the cockpit and moving to take a seat once again. Tech was in the biggest one, and he certainly didn't take up much of it. It was far too easy to rest a knee between those twiggy thighs and brace an arm above his head on the backrest. "I wouldn't mind hearing a little more of it. What about that one? With the gold?"

"We ... Aren't facing the window"

"Good. I'd hate to share my view. Besides, you've seen every ship that has landed here since we arrived. I don't think you need to see it to know which one I mean." You purr, hand curling under his chin to tip it up to you, not about to let him hide that sweet little face.

"I-It's a H-2. Executive shuttle. Mostly for officials or diplomats" Tech whines, finger still curled under that gorgeous chin and thumb sweeping over that plush little lip before pulling him up for a sharp kiss. They weren't machines, even genetically modified and created humans were still humans. And even lab grown humans had reactions and needs. 

And this one was certainly needy.

"As I said, nice voice" You smirk, letting go of his chin to lean backwards, admiring how little it has taken to undo him. His grip on the arm rests likely will leave dents for the next occupant, he's flushed crimson down that markable throat into the collar of his blacks, and panting softly at getting enough space back to breathe again.

"First time on the ship. ... Or?" Oh, you could have quite a bit of fun based on the answer. 

"N-No, there is a bar. Coruscant. Back rooms... Supply closet" Comes the breathless answer, lean legs shifting under you as the engineer gets a little more comfortable, hands lifting to tug at his blacks collar to let a little more cooler air down there. Was ... Was it this hot in the cockpit, or just him? The thermal regulator says it was comfortable, but it felt like Mustafar up here!

"Good to know. And the blue and white ship?" You ask, noticing how he seems to fuss with the neckline of his blacks and decide it would be ever so cruel not to help him out a bit. 

Fingers curling under the hem of his blacks at the waist, carefully helping raise the fabric up and over his head, mindful of the lenses before pushing the fabric backwards over the backrest of the chair, arms stuck in the tight fabric to the upper arm, tugging faintly at his sudden restraints. Someone's headband would have been rather convenient, but one could always make do with their surroundings. Besides, he wouldn't damage the arm rests or his blacks worrying at them like this. It was quite cute to watch muscles tense and flex either side of his head as he tested how much flex and give he had. Not a lot.

Not that he'd have much thought process to set aside for testing his binds, tipping that chin up again for a graze of teeth along that flushed throat, trailing knuckles down a toned little abdomen to another hem, and resting over fabric to give a soft squeeze and tracing little patterns into the mesh. Oh, that hitch and groan above your ear was delightful, lenses pressing to your shoulder as his head tips forwards, and each little pant as you brush over somewhere sensitive is divine.

"It's a ... its ... ah" He's trembling, from the way the chair creaks at him pushing backwards to arch up, arms flexing in their confines unsure if he wants to hang on for dear life or push you backwards, but if he wasn't pink before he was now. He'd make the Emperial flag envious with his current shade.

"Its a ... what??" You croon, brushing the back of your fingers over the mesh beneath you, dancing nails up and down those quaking thighs and listening to the hitched inhales into your shoulder with each margin of fabric explored. The breathless moan into your neck at your hand slipping under the hem and fingers curling around him was probably the most vocal he's been tonight since you took a seat. 

He's sensitive. 

Understandably so, with a life under armour. Any and all registry to the brain would be armour plates shifting, the blacks doing most of the work as dampeners to the skin so, one could hardly blame him for the hitched keen as you start to move certainly checks out. Thumb tracing little circles over the head with each idle stroke, settling back on your knees to watch Tech.

He's beautiful; Head lolled to the side, flushed skin spreading along his chest and stomach, arms flexing where his hands likely fisted and strained at the sensory feedback, unable to help every moan and pant to escape his lips as you slide your hand along him, squeezing as you move downward if only to watch his expression as hips buck up towards you.

"... What was that?"

"Please" He whines, head tipping backward to thunk against the headrest as you squeeze again, legs shifting under you as booted heels dig into the flooring to push more of himself up to meet you.

"Good boy" You murmur, pleased even in his current state that Tech still has his manners. Even if it would have been cute to teach him some, how could you deny such a pleasant request? 

You catch him by the lips again, cornering every hiccup and moan against your lips as you find a pace that has him shaking and arching up against you, heels squeaking against the cockpit floor on ever press and downward stroke until he's silent. 

Lips parted in little rabbit breaths, hips bucking as he curls forward into your shoulder, seat creaking as arms strain to come forwards, and the little sound as warmth floods your hand is addicting. 

Twitching in your hand as he breaks, hot breaths ghost your neck as he sucks in desperate little breaths, and you love the way his body seems to convulse as you gently slide your thumb back and forth over the slick head. 

Just in time, that is the crew entering the spaceport again, over the headrest of the chair. You've got a few minutes before they'd reach the boarding ramp.

A soft little brush of lips to his throat, making a nice little mark against his collar bone as you help unhook his blacks from over the headrest, and you're freeing his arms from it as you rock back onto your feet, running the fabric through your fingers to toss over by their apparent 'laundry' section of the mess they called belongings as he slumps against you, starting to get lights on behind his eyes as he apparently takes a moment to reboot himself into a post orgasmic version of Tech... Its sweet. 

You've never seen that goofy little smile before. You could almost assume him drunk were it not for their location and the last hour in landing.

"Can you stand? .............. A grunt is not an answer, Ships. Can you stand?"

"I do believe so?" Comes the soft little wheeze the second time around, curling an arm under his arm to haul him up onto wobbly little legs with a comforting pat to clad little cheeks, guiding him down that step into the main galley and leaning in the doorway. 

"Hunter's stepped onto the platform, so we have about  .. eh, two minutes for you to put some new blacks on. Can't let the crew know you're actually fun" You grin.

"I'm always fun" Comes the little retort from somewhere near the bunks, storage lids clacking open and closed from around the corner in mission objective of right sized blacks. Perks of everyone aside Wrecker being somewhat like-sized? You could raid ‘wardrobes’.

"Course you are, Ships"

[munson-blurbs]

Fight My Battles (Eddie x fem!reader)

Lots of angst + fluff. You’re home from college and working at the record store with Eddie. Plans get interrupted by an unwelcome blast from the past.

Warnings: allusions to sex, language, attempted assault. Contains sensitive topics. Billy Hargrove makes an appearance.

--

Pulling into the record store lot, you throw your car in park and take a deep breath. First days were always nerve-wracking, even if it was just at a summer job back in your hometown. New York City, where you went to college, was too vast to be personal; a stark contrast from Hawkins, where everyone knew each other.

You step out of the car and smooth down your black skirt and check your shirt for any lint. Good to go.

The bell on the store door gives a little ring as you walk in. An older, balding man--your manager, Greg--looks up from behind the register. When he sees it’s you, he smiles and waves you over. “Y/N!” he calls, “welcome!”

“Thanks!” you chirp back. “I’m a little early, but I figured you could give me a tour of the store or something.”

“Actually,” he stretches, “I have to run out real quick. My wife’s car broke down at the grocery store and she needs a knight in shining armor to save her,” Greg grins, “but Eddie would be happy to show you around.” He cracks open the door to a storage area and calls out, “Hey, Ed! Care to give the new girl a tour of the place? Show her the ropes?”

And just like that, Eddie Munson appeared at the door. You recognized him from school, you know, when he actually showed up. You two had never really talked or ran in the same social circles. He stuck with his D&D buddies, while you preferred the company of the theatre kids.

Now, he offers you a smile that makes your heart beat a little faster. “For sure. I’m Eddie,” he says, holding out his hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself.

“Y/N. I think...I think we went to Hawkins High together for a bit. I graduated last June.” you offer for context.

“Oh, yeah! You looked familiar. I just graduated this year. Third time’s the charm, I guess,” he replies sheepishly. He runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Anyway, let’s get this tour started so you can get to work and I can get back to doing the bare minimum.”

Greg gives him a small smack to the back of the head and hurries out the door. “I’ll be back soon. Y/N, keep an eye on Eddie for me, will ya?”

Oh, that certainly won’t be a problem.

Eddie gives you a full tour: the stock room, the front end, how to take inventory, place orders, and use the cash register. All of the new information has your head spinning, and he notices.

“Don’t worry. You have any questions, just ask me. And if you make any mistakes, blame it on me.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

He just shrugs. “My uncle is always fixing Greg’s wife’s car for cheap. If he fires me, he’s gonna have to pay a lot of money for someone to fix that hunk of junk.” Fair enough.

A small silence stretches out in front of you until you ask, “How long have you been working here?”

“Just a few months. I needed a new gig, a legal one, and Greg was telling my Uncle Wayne that he needed someone to help with the store, and,” he punctuates with a sweeping gesture, “here I am.”

You giggle. “Here you are.”

“What about you? What brings you to Wrecked Records?”

“Needed a summer job, and it’s too expensive to live in New York City year-round on minimum wage, so, here I am.” You mimic his gesture kindly.

“Here you are,” he murmurs, then clears his throat suddenly and checks the clock behind him.

“What time does your shift end?” you ask.

“Uh,” he stammers, “half an hour ago.” “Eddie! Go home!” you chastise him teasingly. 

“I’m not leaving you all alone on your first day,” he retorts. “What if you burn the place down?”

You roll your eyes and plop down on a worn leather couch. “I’ll be fine. Greg should be back any minute.” And he does come back 15 minutes later, and Eddie’s still there, reorganizing the inventory for the fiftieth time. Greg’s surprised to see him.

“Normally, I can’t even get you to work your full shift, and you’re staying late now?” he says, “Y/N must be a good influence.”

“The best,” Eddie flashes his signature grin. “See you tomorrow,” he calls as he heads for his beat-up van.

~

The next few weeks are filled with shifts at the record store. You’re pretty sure Eddie’s flirting with you, always teasing you and playing with your hair when the store is empty. Your favorite is Thursday nights. It’s your day to close the store. Eddie’s supposed to leave at 6, but the store doesn’t close until 11, and he waits around for you to close so he can walk you to your car. Every time, you think he’ll make a move, kissing you or even asking you out, but nothing. Just a “get home safe,” as he closes the door behind you.

Maybe you’ve been misreading his signals. Maybe he just has a flirtatious personality.

Tonight, he is in a goofy mood. He’s been having more of those since you started working at the store. He blasts Cyndi Lauper and sings along in what can only be described as a screech.

“They just wanna! They just wannaaaaa! Girls just wanna have fun!” You’re laughing so hard that tears stream down your face. 

“Fuck, Eddie! You’re gonna make my mascara run!”

“You know you love my singing, sweetheart! Don’t deny it!” This only makes you laugh harder.

The song ends and you check the clock. Only 8 PM. You notice Eddie grabbing his keys from the back and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll be right back. Just gonna grab some food. You want anything?” You shake your head, and he laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get you some fries so you don’t steal mine. Again.”

“Food just tastes better when I’m stealing it from you,” you reply simply.

Eddie leaves and you hear his van starting up. There’s just one person in the store, a woman checking out some Pat Benetar records, and she leaves a few moments after Eddie does. You’re picking at your chipped purple nail polish when the bell rings. “Finally, you’re back with--” you stop, because it isn’t Eddie. It’s Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove, your high school sweetheart, although sweetheart was too generous. You dated for half of your junior year all throughout your senior year until you left for college. You wanted to make long-distance work, but Billy had other plans. Other plans that involved other girls.

“Hey, college girl,” he says roughly. “I heard I could find you here.”

You say nothing, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave, but it doesn’t work. If anything, he feeds off of your discomfort.

“Since when did you get so shy around me? Don’t you remember chasing me down, throwing yourself at me like a pathetic little slut?” he sneers and finally gets a reaction out of you.

“I’M the slut?” you shout. “You’re the one who was fucking other girls for half of our relationship, but I’M the slut?”

He feigns shame, but his eyes give him away. “I know. That’s why I’m here; to get you back. I missed you, missed those perfect tits, missed how good you feel.” He goes to cup your face with his hand, but you pull away. “Don’t you remember how I made you feel? I could take you in that back room and make you feel that right now.”

“No,” you croak. “Leave me alone.”

“Aw, come on, college girl,” he drawls. “I know none of those little frat boys made you moan like I did.” He creeps closer to you until you’re backed into a corner. He places his hands around your waist and pulls you to him. You try pushing away, but he’s too strong.

“Get off of me!” you yell, but it’s useless. You pick up your foot and kick him in the shin. He stumbles back slightly but comes charging back to you.

“What the fuck was that?” he snarls and grabs your arm, tight. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Stop it, Billy! Stop it! Leave me alone!” you sob. In the background, you hear the faint sound of the bell but can’t process what it means. It’s only when you hear his voice that it clicks.

“Get the fuck off of her!” Eddie drops the food, fries tumbling across the floor. He grabs Billy’s shoulders, whips him around, and punches him in the nose. Blood drips down Billy’s face, staining his teeth red.

“Oh, is this why you won’t fuck me? Because you’re fucking the Freak?” he laughs meanly. 

“She won’t fuck you because she doesn’t want to, you piece of shit!” Eddie swings again, but Billy catches his arm in one hand and uses the other to punch him back. Eddie falls to the floor and Billy kicks him in the stomach.

Thinking quickly, you grab the gun from behind the counter, the one Greg keeps there in case of a robbery. Well, this wasn’t a robbery, but you didn’t think he would mind.

You aim it at Billy and scream. “Leave right now or I’ll shoot you right between the fucking eyes, you pig!” You clock his fear as he backs out with his hands up. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But I’m not finished with you yet,” he growls. Exhausted, you collapse onto the ground in a pile of tears.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Eddie runs over as fast as he can. “Well, of course you’re not. Did he...did I get here in time?” You nod, and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

“Let’s close up early. Greg won’t mind; I’ll explain it all in the morning. Then I’ll get you home.”

You shake your head. “But I drove here. What will I do with my car?”

“Leave it here.”

“Okay, then how will I get back tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he says simply, “if that’s okay.”

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder. “You saved me, Eds. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come back in time...”

“No, no. If I didn’t leave to get food, he wouldn’t have...” but you stop him.

“Eddie, you punched Billy Hargrove and saved me. You’re my hero. Take the compliment.” you joke lightly.

~

Fuck Billy Hargrove.

That’s all Eddie can think as he drives from your house to his trailer. Tonight was going to be the night he asked you out, maybe gave you a kiss on the cheek or the forehead. He was ambivalent about it, knowing you’d be back in New York soon, but he didn’t want to let the chance slip by.

And then Billy Hargrove showed up, and hurt you, and Eddie very well couldn’t just ask you out after all that. He wasn’t going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

He pulls up to the trailer and Wayne greets him with a smile. “So, how did it go?”

Eddie fills him in on the night’s events, watching as his uncle’s grin turns into a frown. “What are you going to do now?”

“Kill Hargrove?”

Wayne gives a small chuckle. “Besides that. You can still ask Y/N tomorrow. Just be extra gentle about it. Don’t want her pulling a gun on you, too.”

~

Eddie’s rehearsed what he wants to say, over and over again. You were still on edge the next day, but markedly less scared, so he plunged ahead with his speech. He didn’t have to work that day; he was only driving there to drop you off, so he knew it was now or never when he pulled into the parking lot.

“Y/N, I have a question. And I don’t want you to, y’know, feel any pressure to say yes or anything. But I’ll kick myself if I don’t say something.”

You twist in your seat and look at him. His hands are gripping the wheel even though the car is in park. “What’s up, Eds?”

“Do you want to go out with me tonight? I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to ask you yesterday, but then...” he trails off, not needed to finish the sentence. “I just don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because of what happened, because if you say no, I’ll still be your friend and fight Hargrove for you any day of the week.”

That gets a giggle from you. He’s about to continue babbling when you grab his hand. “Eddie,” you start, “I’ve wanted to go out with you since the moment you gave me a tour of the store.”

His eyebrows raise. “Really? Huh, no shit,” he mutters. “And here i was, waiting around like an idiot.”

You look at him mischievously. “Well, then, we’d better start making up for lost time.” You planted your lips on his, tasting stale cigarettes and black coffee. His hand snakes around your waist, pulling you as close as the van will allow. You bring your own hand up to his face and cup his cheek, giving his lower lip a slight bite as you pull away. He groans and slumps back in his seat.

“Now I gotta wait until 6 to do that again?” he whines, but he’s smiling as he says it.

“Be nice or I’ll make you wait until the end of our date to kiss me again,” you tease. You kiss his cheek as you leave. “A parting gift.”

"Try it, and I’ll sing Cyndi Lauper until you lose your mind.”

You bound into the store, well aware that Eddie can’t tear his gaze from you. It’s going to be a long shift. 

[mrfelixfischoeder]

22 with Tina and Jimmy Jr.?

22- Write about a member of your ship giving the other a special gift. 

Tina slid down the booth, groaning loudly. She didn’t mean to make such a spectacle of herself, though it does tend to get results in terms of someone asking:

“What’s wrong, T?”

“It’s just,” Tina tried to talk, though her head was angled into her chest and it made it kind of hard. But she was dedicated to the slouch now, “I didn’t raise enough money for the Boyz 4 Now concert… The last wave of sales are this afternoon.”

“What – you didn’t – Gene, what’s in your pockets!” Louise shook her brother, feeling uncharacteristically panicked. She cleared her throat when she realised how worried she sounded, getting back to her seated position.

Gene turned his pockets inside out, “Lint, a chicken popper from lunch – MINE! – and two cents.”

“There – how much does that put you to now?!”

“Uhm, 25.02…” Tina covered her face, nails dragging down and messing up her glasses, “I got nothing! Ugh, and they’re starting their tour now so I won’t get another chance to see them live for at least a year.” Louise grumbled, head in her heads, only making a face when she realised Gene was eating said chicken popper.

“I’m sorry Tina, honey.” Linda walked over, “Your pocket money would be more, but we gotta keep some money back to pay for the caterpillar tube.”

“Capillary tube, Linda.”

“What’d I say?”

The door opening distracted them all, and Tina peered over the booth – the only thing forcing her to actually sit up was the fact it was Jimmy. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey Tina, are you buschy?” he glanced at the whole Belcher family being there, though he supposed he could have picked a better time than the close. But if he didn’t do it now, he’d need to do it at school, and Gene and Louise would still be there. At any time, she had a Belcher glued to her – so Hell, might as well talk to her while everyone is here.

“Uhm, no.” she stood up, ignoring Bob’s warning ‘hmm’. “What’s up?”

“Okay, well, uhm,” he looked at Linda and Bob, who were both staring. When Jimmy looked, Linda suddenly looked up at the ceiling, and Bob looked back down at the grill as he cleaned. He cleared his throat, offering Tina an envelope, “I got a prethent for you.”

“Oh wow, isn’t it your birthday?” Tina took the envelope anyway, clinging to it - a gift from Jimmy was to be cherished, “This isn’t usually how it works. But I definitely have a present for you. But it’s uhm, upstairs, and not wrapped, so I can’t show you it until tomorrow. Or maybe Monday, ‘cause you know, I don’t really have the right wrapping paper-”

“Tina, Tina. Tina.” Jimmy interrupted, getting louder with every word. He ignored the fact it was obvious she hadn’t gotten him a birthday present (he didn’t actually care. His birthday was okay, but awkward. His dad didn’t really try, but somehow still got Jimmy on his birthday, meanwhile his mom had put out all the stops last weekend when he was over). Hanging out with her and Zeke would be good enough. “It’th not about my birthday. Well, it kinda ith. My mom uuh, got me ticketth…”

Tina’s eyebrows met, and she opened the envelope, staring at the shiny tickets for Boyz 4 Now. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!!! “Ha, ha, ha! Ha,” Tina tried to breathe, “You got me Boyz for Now tickets?! How! The sale started today – I mean, well, the last wave,”

“My mom got them ageth ago.” Jimmy smiled at her confused delight, scratching his cheek, “I didn’t really want anything, so I athked for ticketth.”

“How’d you know I wouldn’t be able to get any?” Tina wasn’t trying to find loopholes – but the hypothetical of Jimmy wasting his mom’s money in case she had gotten tickets stressed her out a little. Jimmy didn’t really reply, instead his face crumpled. How on Earth was Tina Belcher going to raise money for at least one ticket when all she did was rake leaves and the odd paper route.

“Mom look!” Tina walked over to the counter, showing Linda the tickets – who ‘oooh’ed appropriately, though she wasn’t too thrilled that it was Jimmy that did it. Though she had to admit, it was a very, very sweet gesture for her daughter. That won him some brownie points.

“Yeah, yippee, okay, good for you!” Louise couldn’t help her outburst, rubbing the menu a little harder than necessary, “If we don’t need to get more than say, one ticket, could we get any, mom? So that I can you know, chaperone these kids.” She thumbed at Jimmy and Tina.

“Still no, sorry honey.”

Jimmy took the envelope from Tina and then took out the tickets, “I got you one too, Louithe.” He spread them apart, showing indeed that there were three. Louise pursed her lips, unintentionally letting out a squeak, before pulling on the strings of her hat.

“Okay, cool.” She managed, “Now get outta here you scamps, why don’t you enjoy the rest of your night – and I can look after those, uh, tickets,” she began to crawl across the table, but Jimmy snatched them away, giving them back to Tina.

“Can we go get some ice cream, mom?” Tina looked over. Linda rolled her eyes, hands on her hips.

“Okay, sure, but if you don’t eat your dinner, I’m cutting those tickets up! Haha, oh, I’m kidding – geez look at your faces.”

“Boyz 4 Now is no joke.” Louise glowered, “For uh, Tina.”

“Thankth Mrth B!”

“Be back soon!” Tina walked out with almost a skip in her step, taking Jimmy’s hand as they head down the street.

“Good kid.” Bob murmured. Linda tutted, getting back to her work only after she couldn’t see the pair anymore.

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins: Neon

A sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debacherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

The completed first series can be read and found here.

Author's Note: It's a long one. Happy New Year!

Chapter Nine

Valentine’s Day 1993

Bill was just about to leave his penthouse when the phone rang upstairs. Quickly, he took two steps at a time up the wrought iron spiral staircase and hastily grabbed the phone. It was Alma on the other end of the line thanking him for the dozen red rose vase bouquets that he had delivered to her apartment. 

“Is it overkill?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Alma laughed. “But they are all very pretty.” She said touching the soft velvety petals of a rose before her.

“I’ll miss you tonight.” 

“Me too. But we’ll see each other in a couple of days…” 

Bill smiled at the thought. “Uh, I was just heading out but-” 

“No. I’ll let you go. I have to do the same. We have a show tonight at the shop.” 

“Right,” he sighed. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” click.

…

Bill arrived at Trigger Finger XXX early that day since he wasn’t staying as late as he usually would that night. He had just finished eating a good sizable steak with a side of fries and sauteed asparagus that Bianca had gifted him. She had the kitchen staff prepare it for him making no fuss of it so that he could eat and enjoy it alone in the office. She knew he’d prefer it that way. He had almost forgotten to give her a gift but when leaving the gym he had stopped by a small chocolatier shop close by to grab her a box of intricate chocolates on a whim. One year she had even given him a bouquet of white roses which he found a little weird but deep down it did feel a little nice to receive. He wasn’t a great gift giver himself, it was just easier to hand money off than make decisions about what someone would like. Of course, with Alma, he made a little more effort but she never complained about the money either. 

Eventually, he found himself down below in the designated VIP booth he sat at every night. Everyone seemed to be in a loving mood. Quite a few times flower delivery men had come to his club to drop off bouquets to a few girls and he could see all the girls checking them out silently competing over who had the biggest prettiest one. Had they known Alma would have been the winner. Tommy had stopped by his booth, he had just personally delivered pink roses and a large teddy bear that had shiny pink foil heart-shaped balloons attached to it to Bambi. They shook hands and Bill offered him a drink while he was already waving a bartender over before he could happily accept as he slid into the booth. They spoke a bit about Tommy’s cubicle job and house hunting over drinks until the conversation fell back on the celebrations of the day. 

“Bambi seemed to really love the gift you brought,” Bill said.

“Ah, thanks she really likes that kind of stuff. I mean girls you know,” he lightly shrugged. “Uh did you get your wife something? Sorry, I can’t recall her name?”

“My girlfriend, Alma. Yeah, I got her roses.” He nodded.

“Oh, sorry I wasn’t sure whether-”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, picking up his drink for a sip. In the back of his mind, he knew he probably should and would marry her. However, the thought of asking her the question made him so dreadfully anxious. Worried that she would say no even if most likely she wouldn’t. But what if she did? She could be very stubborn.

“I remember you two mentioning at Bianca’s Christmas party that you’ve been together since high school like me and Sar-Bambi I mean.” 

“Yeah, long time,” he said, picking a piece of lint off his tailored charcoal trousers. It was easier to give a short answer. They had only known each other since high school. That was a fact but in regards to being together just as Tommy and Bambi were wasn’t. However, he wasn’t about to get into the debacle that was their actual relationship with Tommy two-bit next to him. They never really officially asked each other to be boyfriend and girlfriend, one day they just were after everything else they were to each other.

“Mhmm. Do you ever… get bored?” 

Bill turned to look at him with furrowed brows. “Mm. No, she keeps me on my toes,” he smirked. 

Tommy just nodded sheepishly to himself. “My wife and I have kind of discussed maybe… inviting a third into our bedroom you know trying to spice it up. But uh we haven’t found anyone we can both agree on.” 

Bill quickly side-eyed him. Why the hell was he telling him this? “Um,” Bill sighed. “Sure but I hope you two aren’t fishing for my dancers. I don’t think that that would be app-” 

“Not the girls,” Tommy said, cutting him off and giving him a pointed look. 

Bill looked away from him for a second, noticing Venus dancing to What’s Love Got to Do with It by Tina Turner on stage, and then turned back to him with a skeptical expression on his face. “Eh, Tommy?” 

“You seem fine enough to me. She likes you,” he lightly shrugged. 

“Yeah… most people do but they don’t often ask me to fuck their wife.” 

“Hey, I was just putting feelers out,” Tommy said, putting his hands up defensively. “But I take it that you’re not interested. I just figured as a man who works in this type of environment that maybe…” 

“Sure,” Bill rolled his eyes. “But I learned long ago that I frankly don't like an audience.” He declared. 

It was years ago he agreed to let a pathetic husband watch him fuck their wife. It was fine when it started but when he could hear the other man's moans filling the room while he jerked off his less-than-average penis in a corner it began to throw him off. He was being demanded of things from both the husband and the wife. The woman wanted it a certain way while the man wanted to watch something else. Then the man got jealous and asked him to leave before he could finish much to his wife's protests against it. He didn’t like the idea of fighting a naked man while he was vulnerable as well. Instead, he collected his clothes, gave the man some scathing choice words, and went on his way. Though even afterward the woman called his phone but he rebuffed her politely as he could because he surprisingly felt bad about what she had to deal with. By the third time he rudely told her to lose his number and threatened to kick her husband's ass for real if she didn’t. 

“Just forget it, man. I read you wrong.” Tommy said, pushing his drink glass away.

“Look, it’s just not for me. But uh I hope you find someone at the very least.” 

“Mhmm,” Tommy said, putting on an act of checking his cheap wristwatch. “I gotta pick up our son from his grandma.” He offered his hand and gave him a curt handshake before he left. 

Bill just sat there alone slightly amused and stunned as he rubbed the thin white gold chain he wore around his neck between his fingers. To him, Bambi and Tommy seemed subjectively normal and though he’s seen and heard and done a lot in his life people could still surprise him. He shook his head to himself hurrying out of the booth and lit a cigarette on his way to the girl's dressing rooms. It was filled with all sorts of bouquets and heart shaped gifts today. There were a few girls in there when he stopped at the threshold flicking ash from his cigarette to the floor. The scent of Aquanet and strawberry body mist hit him. A few girls were adjusting straps of clothing and others touching up make-up in the mirror of the wall-to-wall-lit vanity. When they registered a male presence they all turned their head and smiled noticing it was him. Though security did a fine job of keeping men out there were times a creep would sneak past and they never liked to miss an opportunity to tell them off.

“Hi boss,” they all said together melodically. 

“Hi ladies,” he politely smiled at them. “Happy Valentine’s,” he said, slightly bowing his head.

He walked in further glancing at Bambi who seemed more occupied with touching up her red lipstick than paying attention to him. He wondered if she put Tommy up to the proposal or whether she knew at all. He looked around for Marcy when he realized Payday wasn’t in the dressing room meaning if he didn’t see her on the floor she was most likely in the private rooms working. Marcy was in the back area with Chastity holding onto a wax strip that had been applied to her lower belly as she braced. 

“Just do it!” Chastity whined and with that, Marcy pulled it away from her body which made her recoil from the abrupt pain. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Marcy said looking at the pink strip that had short dark hairs attached to it now.

“Fucking hardcore,” Bill said when Chastity walked away rubbing the ruddy sore spot below her navel as he took a drag of his cigarette. 

“Not so easy being a woman,” Marcy said, turning to him with a wink. “What’s up?” 

“I was looking for Payday. When she circles back around from the private rooms could you tell her I’ll be waiting in the loft?” He said pointing behind himself. 

Just before he walked out, Onyx came in walking a bit strangely announcing that she needed a tampon. When he got to the loft he plopped down on the couch because Bianca was sitting at the desk looking over paperwork and tapping her long red nails on the desk. He sighed to himself loudly as he lifted his long leg to place on top of the coffee table in front of him and the other crossed his knee at the ankle. 

“What’s up with you lover boy?” Bianca finally said. 

“Just waiting,” he shrugged. “Thanks for my gift by the way.”

“Of course! Thanks for mine.” She said tapping on the box of chocolates on the desk. He had just left it there for her to discover and placed a sticky note on it that read: To B from B. “And what is this that you’re waiting on? The desk?” 

Bill lightly chuckled. “Waiting on Payday. She asked if I’d take her to Simion’s fight tonight last week. I figured why not.” 

“Hmm,” Bianca expressed looking a little perturbed. “So she’s with him for real then?” 

“Seems like it. Why?” 

Bianca shook her head. “You know when I was the house mother I didn’t like the girls to form real relationships with clients. Personally, I know what can go wrong. I met my sons' asshole father here.” She rolled her eyes. “He gave me hell forever when we separated, tried to get my sons taken away claiming I was an unfit mother. Anyway,” she waved a hand trying to dismiss those memories and the risk of repeating a story Bill already knew. “Marcy is with that bogus-looking guy she met here and suddenly she’s gone lax on that rule.” 

“Sounds like you might have to talk to her?” 

“And you too. It doesn’t bother you,” she asked, lifting a brow at him. 

“To a degree but as long as our money keeps coming…” he shrugged but Bianca didn’t seem pleased with that answer. “Sure, I agree with you we can’t start having our high-dollar girls marrying off. If Marcy has a problem just call in the big guns,” he said playfully flexing his biceps. 

“Oh look at you! Fuckin’ dork.” Bianca said, making him laugh. “You are looking nice today though, even wearing color for once.” She said pointing out his ruby-colored button-up. “And the red bottoms.” She noticed his new designer Chelsea boots.

“Ah yeah, Alma bought these for me when she went shopping last time she was here. Nice huh?” He said, rubbing a smudge from the sleek black leather with his thumb.

There was a knock at the door and Theo walked in with Payday just behind him holding a clutch purse. She had put on a short satin red dress with a cowl neck that hung low with nude strappy stilettos. Her long dark hair was curled and styled half up and half down with flirty locks framing her face. The shade of pink lipstick she wore on her full lips complimented her tan skin. As he got up to grab his long black coat he thought about how they would match and if he should change his shirt while Payday asked Bianca if she looked cute. He decided that changing it would make it a bigger deal when there were a lot of people who would be wearing red today. In some ways, Payday’s looks reminded him of Alma so he enjoyed looking at her but not much else beyond that did he find interesting. He asked Payday if she’d like to borrow a jacket since there was still a chill in the February air and was only wearing thin fabric and little of it but she politely declined.

They were mostly silent in Bill’s car on the way to the discrete location of the underground boxing match. Payday was sitting with her legs crossed, her smooth thick thigh facing him on display, and was anxiously fiddling with her long French tip acrylic nails. 

“Are you cold,” Bill asked. 

“No,” she said softly. “Just nervous. I’ve never been to anything like this. And my boyfriend is gonna be up there you know?” She said clasping her hands and settling them into her lap. 

Bill nodded in understanding. “Well as a fair warning, it’s not like anything you’ve seen on pay-per-view. It’s a bare-knuckle fight,” when he glanced at her he noticed her wearily frown. “But I’ve seen Simion fight, he’s good. He hardly gets touched.” He tried to reassure her. “Um, did he get you anything nice today?” He said steering the subject to something else to ease her anxious worrying for a bit. 

“Oh you know, flowers, chocolates, money,” she sighed. “After the fight, we’re staying at a really nice hotel which I’m excited about.”

When Bill asked her where they were staying he just nodded at the mention of the place. It wasn’t what he would call really nice by his standards but fine enough. Then he thought that maybe he was being a bit of a snob about it. He didn’t come from luxury but now he had preferences for things he never imagined there were preferences for. 

“Don’t you have a girl? Did you get her something nice?” 

“Hmm. I try.” He said scratching his mustache. 

“Oh c’mon!” 

“We’re not big gift givers. We mostly like to just be together but she’s living in another state right now. I’m seeing her in a few days.” 

“That should be nice. I briefly saw her when she was at the club a few months ago. She’s very pretty, soft, but kinda tough. It’s sexy.” She said which made Bill smile. “But I can imagine you kinda have to be a bit tough to be with you. You know because of your job and you come off as very mysterious sometimes. Like a bit hard to crack,” Payday lightly laughed. 

Bill chewed on his cheek in thought for a moment. “By ‘a bit hard to crack’ do you mean like standoffish? Dickish?” 

“Hey boss, I said no such thing, you did.” She smirked. 

“It’s a fair observation, I guess.”

“I mean even for me it’s hard to date, not a lot of guys have liked that I dance you know. Takes a specific kind of person who’d be cool with it.” She said finishing a previous thought she had to fill the dead space fearing she may have offended him. 

They fell silent again. Bill had to admit he was private, more so in recent years ever since the situation with Craig. He didn’t need to make any unnecessary waves. Besides that, he had a family to protect as well whom he didn’t need to make targets of his misdeeds. It had happened once and he’d be damned if it ever happened again.

Payday sat in her seat still nervous but now it was because she felt she may have said something wrong. She peered over towards Bill who was taping his steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of a down-tempo alternative rock song softly playing on the radio unbothered as he drove them. That’s when she peeked at a small photo tucked into the car dash control panel of a sleeping baby. Of course, all the dancers talked about him. She’s heard bits of pieces of things that mostly sounded like bullshit to her. She never liked to make assumptions about people because she didn’t like when people did it to her when they learned of her profession. However, the photo did confirm the baby rumor amongst the bullshit ones she’s heard.

“If you weren’t going to this fight and you didn’t have to work tonight, what would you be doing?” Bill asked her as he turned a street corner. He could sense her nervousness after he had quit speaking and was trying not to seem so cold. It hit him then that it sort of felt like a first date with how painful it felt to carry on a conversation. 

“Oh. Um well, I used to rave and go hang with club kids. That’s how I picked up all those little funny games I play with the clients,” she lightly giggled. “But yeah, probably something like that. I bet there are a few on tonight too. Have you ever raved?” 

“I’ve been to a couple when I was a bit younger. My girlfriend liked to go to those mostly. She likes to dance but I’m not so good at it.” He lightly shrugged. “We’re here.” He announced as he swooped into a parking spot. 

Payday looked around. It was just a random city block with a few sketchy warehouses. She saw some people walking down the street but a few she could pluck out by their more tailored threads. They were most likely headed to where they were. 

“It’s still a bit of a walk from here. Will you be okay?” He said with a pointed look at her stiletto heels while he picked up a loose cigarette that lay on top of his dashboard and put it between his lips. 

“It’ll be okay,” she hoped. She could do a lot on the platform heels she wore at work but these were flat to the ground, better for sitting down and looking cute on her French pedicured feet.

Without a warning, Bill reached behind his back and grabbed the handle of his gun. Payday watched him check the slide and pull a lever and then he met her shocked expression, apologetically he laid his gun gently on his lap. It was a lapse in judgment on his part, he navigated alone and the only other girl that had ever been in his Thunderbird was Alma who wouldn’t have been startled by it one bit. Surely, the girls at the club knew he carried a gun but he was in a car in a sketchy area alone with a girl being too casual about a deadly weapon. If this was an actual first date this would have been the moment Payday would have decided that there wouldn’t be a second. That thought amused Bill. 

“Sorry. They don’t allow outside firearms. They check,” he explained with the unlit cigarette still between his lips until he plucked it away. “Do you mind if I reach over to put it in the glovebox in front of you?” 

“It’s cool. I just didn’t expect it.” 

“You don’t mind?” He asked again because she didn’t answer his question. 

“No,” she shook her head. 

She was beginning to wonder what in the world her boyfriend Simion’s fight night got her into tonight. It all seemed so hush-hush and serious now. It seemed like he told her enough but not the details of what underground fighting really was because she imagined it was just some macho guy get-together. Bill reached over and placed his Glock in the glove box. Before he shut and locked it with his key she could have sworn she saw not only a large bottle of Chanel cologne and a pocket knife but also a pair of white sheer panties. That observation quickly left when she noticed the lock of hair that fell out of his slicked hair, his clear skin, and the expensive cologne he wore while he was so close. He was handsome, she loved his big beautiful green eyes that set him apart but she preferred Simion’s muscular brawny build more. Plus, Bill could be a bit stoic whereas Simion was playful. However, she had seen Bill cut up on occasion and how Bianca and him would joke. He just wasn’t someone who’d let people in easily. Almost as if you’d have to prove yourself to be in his inner circle. 

After he opened her door and helped her out after a quick reapplication of gloss. They walked half a block and through a tiny residential alley until they finally reached the back area of a nondescript almost dilapidated-looking warehouse. Bill had his coat collar slightly popped up with a hand inside the pocket as he was smoking his cigarette with the other. A few times he had to pause while Payday caught up to his strides. She wouldn’t even answer a callback from him if this was a first date for doing that, that’s for sure, he thought. 

They stood behind a few other spectators being patted down. Once it was their turn Bill flicked his cigarette away and asked for her purse before he went first. He passed the small clutch to the security guard and he took a glance over at the ID, coin purse, powder case, lipstick, gloss, and the two light blue condoms inside. Bill passed it back behind himself to her and then put his hands up to be patted down. Payday could tell he was thoroughly annoyed by it and saw him muttering something to the security. 

“She’s a lady.” She heard him say in a low tone. “Look at what she’s wearing, what would she have on her.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” the stocky bald security guard said back. 

Bill flashed him a dark steely gaze. “I do.” 

It was then she glanced down and caught Bill palming the security a few one hundred dollar bills and he waved them through without her needing to be subjected to an invasive pat down. 

“Ready,” he asked her with a softer demeanor about him again and then offered his arm for her to grab as a polite gesture.

It was strange to her how he could change his emotions in that way. Almost like a Jekyll and Hyde effect. All she knew was that she never wanted him to look at her in the way he looked at the security guard because she might just piss herself. 

Inside there was commotion coming from everywhere. There were two lean muscular boxers on the makeshift but well-built rings in the center of the warehouse but it seemed not many people were interested in watching. There were people still looking for seats and waiters with drink trays weaving between them. A woman at a coat check offered to take Bill’s coat but he waved off the offer. As they continued through she realized it was a full operation which was here in the night but gone in the day. 

“I need to stop by the bets real quick,” he said leaning down so she could hear him. Even in stilettos, she was short. “Then we can look for seats.” 

She watched him speaking to a bookie placing bets of exorbitant amounts of money. He turned back to look at her over his shoulder and saw her taking everything in. 

“Would you like to bet on a round?” He asked her, trying to make her feel included. “On me,” he said before she could say she had no money to bet with.

“Sure,” she said, deciding to participate especially since it wasn’t her money to waste away. 

“Okay, boxing usually goes ten rounds right? Tonight’s main event only goes to seven,” he explained. “So from one to seven, you can bet on which round there will be a knockout that ends the fight.”

“It’s just a guess?” She asked and Bill nodded. “Hmm. Round six.” 

“Round six,” Bill nodded in approval. It wasn't a bad or good round to choose as long as she didn’t say round one. He would have chosen the fifth round knowing how Simion fought. He turned back to the bookie who asked him if he wanted to do the lower hundred bets and then it jumped to twenty-five hundred or five thousand dollar pots. “What do you think?” He turned to her again.

“Uh,” Payday grinned a bit overwhelmed. “Twenty-five hundred?” That amount of money was a fraction of a fraction of the numbers she had heard him throw out before getting her to play.

“Eh. Maybe a little higher right,” Bill said pointing up. “Something worthwhile.” 

“It’s your money, boss,” she said nervously. He only looked at her, waiting for her to agree. “Hm, five thousand then,” and even that was still a modest number from the ones she’d heard before. “Sixth round,” she said more definitively in her tone.  

Bill grinned. “Now we’re playing.” 

They were held up a bit by the entrance to the boxing ring because Bill had recognized a few men there and was speaking to them. She looked around and quickly grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter and downed its contents which earned a glance from Bill but he turned away again with a smirk she mistook for a sneer. She thought maybe that was a bit trashy of her because of the look he gave. But she didn’t know him enough to know he found it funny. As he tried to veer away from the conversation before him he was saved when one of Simion's training crew called his name. He was a young guy named Aaron and Bill had even worked out with him. 

“C’mon, follow me!” He hollered above the crowd and waved them over. 

Bill offered his arm again to Payday as he kept his eyes on the back of Aaron’s blonde head and navigated them through the crowd. The crowd started to become thinner and eventually, they turned a corner. Payday let go of him and walked ahead down the corridor as Bill and Aaron shook hands a few paces behind. She could faintly hear her boyfriend Simion’s voice and followed it.

“Payday,” Bill said, pointing to a makeshift room as she walked ahead. “In here.” 

She turned her head and hastily scurried back and Bill stood behind to let her in first. Simion turned his head in the middle of a pep talk from his trainer and brightly grinned when he spotted her. 

“Simi!” She shouted happily.

“Marina my angel!” He exclaimed with his arms out awaiting her embrace. She leaped up and slammed her body against his before they tongue-kissed. Everyone could see her asscheeks because her skirt rode up and she didn’t even bother to adjust it. 

“Careful! He’s still got the main event coming up,” Mauricio his trainer chided. 

Simion placed her back on her stilettos as she bashfully pulled her skirt hem down. “She is my main event, Mauricio!” He said, kissing her cheek proudly. 

Bill was leaning against a heavy punching bag with his arms crossed when Aaron leaned in towards him. 

“It’s like some kind of fucked up Rocky movie,” he said to him which made him chuckle. 

“Hey, did you get it in,” Bill asked him hushed. 

“Right, right,” Aaron said, grabbing a small gym bag sitting on the dusty floor next to him.

Bill used his broad back and large body to shield his gym friend as he dug in the bag and produced a small Sig Sauer he had snuck into the facilities for him. It was easier for him because as a part of the crew, they weren’t subjected to pat downs the way patrons were. Even if he was a bit weary of leaving one of his guns from him to hold on to, Bill also knew Aaron was young and stupid enough to bring it in as a way to impress him. Bill quickly grabbed it, checking the slide and the safety before tucking it into a custom inner pocket he had tailored into his coat. He thanked Aaron with a pat on his shoulder since he had already paid him for the favor prior. He didn’t trust anyone at these events, everyone was into shady seedy shit and Bill had laid down a lot of money tonight he wasn’t risking not having a piece on him. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who did either.

Aaron backed away when Simion approached them in his blue, yellow, and red designed boxing shorts that were meant as an homage to the Romanian flag. Bill straightened up and they hooked hands before Simion pulled him into an embrace. He pulled him like he weighed nothing which took him aback a bit but he held his ground. His biceps were two – close to three sizes – bigger than his. 

“Thanks for bringing her brother,” he said to him. “She’s my good luck charm!” 

“No problem. I told you I would bring her in one piece tonight,” he said, scratching his neck.

“I managed to get you and her some front-row seats. You know for the trouble.” 

“No trouble at all. And I appreciate it but uh I just like to sit in the back you know.” 

“Low profile I understand. Well, it’s there if you want it, no worries, brother.” He said, patting his arm.

“Thanks. I can take Payday to her seat though.” 

“Such a gentleman. I’d like that.” 

“We need to buckle down Simion,” Maurcio bellowed sternly. “The fight right now is almost over, then we got one more and you’re up.” 

Bill waited outside the room for Payday as she said her goodbyes to Simion but when they emerged at the threshold he caught Simion pulling her dress down to kiss her bare breasts. He looked away. He had seen them countless times, he could even picture them perfectly but it just felt weird to look at them outside the club. 

“I asked you to keep it a surprise,” Payday said to him as she approached. 

Bill began to lead her out the corridor before answering her. “I know.”

“Well?” 

He looked down at her and took a deep breath. “It’s just a stupid guy thing. You’re his girlfriend. I have to respect that and make sure he was cool about me giving you a ride.” He caught her slightly rolling her eyes and he had to keep himself from smirking.

He led her to the seats, really damn good seats. With an open hand, he pointed to her seat like a good usher would and just as he began to walk off she caught the tail of his long coat.

“Are you really just going to leave me all alone?” She said looking up at him a bit upset. 

Bill groaned under his breath and leaned down. “It’s a bit too overexposed for me.” 

“I don’t know anyone here but you and Simion?” She pulled on his coat collar to speak into his ear. “Honestly, I’m a little uncomfortable.” She looked around then and while there were a few women amongst the male majority she was there front and center. She felt overexposed as well. 

Bill side-eyed her and then closed his eyes in thought. If it was Alma he would sit down if she was uncomfortable. However, she wasn’t but as a friend of Simion’s, he decided he would bear it. 

“Fine,” he said begrudgingly. 

He shrugged his coat off and again a waiter in passing asked if he’d like to check his coat and again he declined. As far as he knew his Louis Vuitton coat would just walk out without him and the thief would also now have a new gun. He held it by the collar and then draped it across his lap as he finally sat down. 

“Thank you,” she said, nudging him. 

“Yup,” he sighed indignantly. “Can I ask you something? Is it alright if I call you Marina here?” 

“You can call me whatever you like boss,” she smiled politely and batted her silver shadowed eyes at him. It was maybe even a little flirtatious if he wanted to look at it that way. Suddenly this faux date had turned into an escort service by that response. And by how she was dressed it probably did look like that outwardly.

“No like seriously. You don’t have to call me Boss either we're not at work.” He didn’t mind the girls calling him boss but he always wondered when that even started. They used either his name or boss interchangeably but one day it was just boss only. 

“So you want me to call you, Bill?” She asked cautiously. 

“You could have always called me Bill,” he said, slightly irritated. “So can I call you Marina? Of course, at work, I wouldn’t obviously.”

“Marina is fine... But I usually go by Mari’.” 

Bill bit his lip and looked away to keep the frustrated laugh from escaping past his lips. “Okay, Mari’ then.” If he had this exact conversation with Alma he would have sworn she was fucking with him just to start an argument. Unfortunately, it seemed like this was just how Mari was. 

And now he just missed Alma all over again. Keeping busy always helped but it being Valentine's just exasperated all his feelings for her because she just wasn’t there. Did he agree to this because it was the closest thing to Alma? Though they were similar in looks he couldn’t keep himself from finding all the things she lacked. What started as a polite favor he now began to wonder if he was just so damn lonely his subconscious planned all of this. 

A waiter stopped by them and he quickly ordered a glass of top-shelf bourbon, for Mari Dom Perignon after discovering that’s what she stole off the tray when he asked the waiter what champagne was being served.

“You’re expensive,” he smugly joked. 

Their drinks arrived as soon as the second-to-last fight started. He told the waiter to keep the drinks coming until he said when. Bill had bet on this fight and Simion’s so he was interested to see how it would go. He bet that the Irish fighter would win since he hadn’t had a single loss on his record and expected the streak to continue. The first round had the crowd in the warehouse roaring as the Irish fighter put in some work on the other off the bat. Bill finished the rest of his Bourbon and an attentive waiter swooped by to grab his empty glass. Resting his elbows on his knees and wringing his hands together he watched the second round start and it began the way the first went. Until after the last-minute mark when the Irish fighter ducked a punch the other boxer clipped him with a left hook stunning him and leaving his guard down enough that another punch hit him square in the face. His knees buckled from under him and like a dead weight, he fell forward straight on the boxing mat. The crowd's roars were deafening, some patrons shot out of their seats in disbelief. The referee counted down and it was over. 

“FUCK!” Bill yelled and his face fell into his hand. “Fuck me,” he whined. 

Bill sat back in his seat, shaking his head with furrowed brows. Marina glanced at him remorsefully; she knew he bet on the Irish fighter to win and he went down unexpectedly quick. Money gone, just like that. The waiter came with drinks and she watched him shoot it down like a shot and put it back on the drink tray. She was worried about saying anything because of how upset he looked, twisting around his blue gem pinky ring. The winning team finally got out of the ring after congratulating the underdog and Bill sighed loudly in resignation. 

“Well shit,” he said, turning to Marina now. “I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“That was… crazy. I heard you bet on Simion too,” she said cautiously. 

“I did,” he nodded. “Hopefully he wins it all back for me.” He had more at stake in Simion’s fight and he was silently praying to whatever powers that be. 

The ring was being swept off and prepared as Simion was the main event. It was quiet between the two while they waited until Marina spoke up. 

“Bo-Bill,” she said to gain his attention. “If you weren’t here tonight what would you be doing on Valentine's Day instead?” She was reframing the question he had made up to ease her earlier in the evening. 

Bill smiled and turned his body so that it was more open to her now. “Hm. Not sure.” 

“Would your girlfriend like to come to something like this?” She asked after taking a sip of the champagne she’d been nursing.

“Probably. But I wouldn’t bring her here for Valentine’s,” he lightly chuckled. “We’d go out to eat, and stay in a nice hotel suite,” he paused, deciding how much he wanted to tell her. “Uh, I like to buy her dresses so she’d be out with me wearing what I bought her.” 

“Aw, that’s so cute! And you say you’re not a good gift giver?” She said playfully tapping his arm.

“I mean I told you I try,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “But the dresses are more for my indulgence.” 

“Can I ask a question,” she said softly to which Bill nodded as a reply. “I saw that picture on the dash, whose pretty baby is that?” 

Bill looked away a second and looked back at her with a tight smile rubbing the stubble on his chin with his knuckles. He barely gave her an inch and she just went the whole mile. He was worried about this. 

“You’re only asking that because I think you already know,” he said to her, seeing through her disingenuous questioning. “I know you girls talk about me in the dressing rooms. Was it Bambi?” He knew when he saw Bambi at Bianca’s Christmas party that she’d be the one to leak that information around whether intentionally or not. He was surprised to even see her there at all as Bianca liked to keep a tight group as well but it was her home he had no say on her guests. 

Marina hated feeling caught, she knew better. She responded to him remorsefully nodding her head. “I’m sorry, Bill. That was ugly of me.” 

“It’s not your fault for being curious, Mari. I know I’m a cryptic fuck it doesn’t help when it comes to speculation,” he set his drink on the floor and crossed his arms sitting back in his seat. “To answer your question, yeah that’s my pretty little baby,” he smiled and that eased her enough to smile also. “It’s not like some huge secret exactly. I just… want to keep her separate from business, you know? I’m also guilty of being possessive. So when it comes to my daughter-” 

“Out of bounds,” Marina said understandingly.

“Exactly,” Bill nodded. “Out of bounds, that works,” he said because he was going to originally say that it was nobody's fucking business. This was less crass.

“So I’m guessing you wouldn’t even tell me her name then.”

That made Bill lightly chortled because she was still trying to pry. “Yeah, no I won’t be. I won’t even entertain a guess.” 

“Fair. I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” He said with an appreciative nod.  

“Picturing you with a little daughter looks so sweet. You probably wouldn’t like to hear it but it takes a little edge off you knowing that now.” 

“Sorry for breaking that facade tonight,” Bill joked. 

“The way you’ve behaved tonight towards me, well except for walking ahead of me earlier,” she pointed out to which he quickly threw in a sorry. “Maybe you’re possessive I guess but you’re protective. I can tell you’re a good dad because you light up talking about her. I wish my dad did when he talks about me.” 

Bill bashfully looked at his lap twisting the pinky ring that honored his daughter and smiled to himself. “Ah, that’s sweet of you to say, Mari.” He couldn’t ever say that he was a good dad or not exactly; he didn't feel like he had spent enough time with Echo to gauge that. Even with the reassurance from Alma that his daughter loved him and that he was a good dad, he felt like she had to say that as his partner. Hearing it from a near stranger felt nice though it made him feel good about himself. 

“So back to my question before since I know what I know now. If you weren’t here tonight. Good food and hotel still?” 

“She’d tag along with us. She’s still little,” he said, putting his hand out a few feet from the floor indicating her height. “Alma, my girlfriend, always likes to call her a fancy girl when we’re doing something particularly gaudy,” he laughed. “But yeah she’s fancy, she's got a lot more at her disposal than we ever had. That’s for sure.” 

The announcer finally introduced the main event of the night. While Bill tried his best to keep his conversations with Marina dreadfully shallow he now kind of appreciated where their night’s conversation went. It was nice to think and talk about the girls he loved so much with someone else besides Bianca. He was sure he bored her with it sometimes. Now he had to focus, he had money to win. 

After the announcer introduced the referee and the other main event boxer, Simion walked to the center of the ring lightly jogging in place and jutting out punches which made the crowd cheer. 

“And in the blue, yellow, and red shorts, SIMION ‘THE DRAGON’ DALCA!!! Let the Bloody Valentine’s Fight begin!” 

Marina jumped from her seat and cheered her boyfriend while Bill only stood up and clapped next to her. Simion spotted her and she began to blow kisses at him. They sat down as the first fight round went on with only a few jabs from both fighters sizing each other up. From the corner of Bill’s eye, he saw some latecomers to the fight shuffling to their front-row seats just on the other side of the ring. There was a classically beautiful woman who caught his eye first, her honey-blonde hair was in a perfect French roll and she was wearing a brown mink fur coat and white gloves. She looked suitably dressed for a symphony, not some dusty underground boxing fight. 

That was until someone stepped aside revealing Joey Russo right beside her. He was dressed in a nicely tailored three piece suit with a rose boutonniere attached to the lapel. He briefly watched as Joey helped the woman take her mink off and handed it off to who looked like personal security. He looked away and took a deep breath through his nose holding the air in his puffed-up chest and let it back out slowly. He and Joey Russo had bumped into each other here and there and were fine with each other but it didn’t mean he liked it when it happened. He’d much prefer if he never saw him ever again but such is life. In the days when everything could seem so trivial suddenly he is hit with too much in a day all at once. 

He put all his focus on the fight only pausing a moment to roll up the sleeves of his button up. Though the way the day kept throwing curveballs he was deeply worried. Simion had been putting up a good fight throwing blows that would buckle five men but his opponent was just taking it. Their bare knuckles were bloodied and raw. Simion’s nose was busted open in the fourth round and began to run crimson down his chin and trickled to his sweaty chest just as he did to his opponent in the third. Marina screamed when that happened and involuntarily clutched Bill’s arm. He patted her hand lightly not to remove it but so that she could let off a little as her long nails were digging into his skin. Near the end of the fifth round, Bill’s heart began to thump hard in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him. He reached down for his bourbon and finished it. The alcohol wasn’t going to save him though he was too pent up with anxious energy. 

As the boxers fought on the ropes of the ring where Joey Russo sat, he locked eyes with him. They gave each other a nod of acknowledgment and turned their focus back on the fight. Just before the end of the fifth round, Simion threw a medley of body jabs and he cheered appreciatively. 

“Yeah!” He caught himself shouting. 

He looked toward Marina and could see that she was tearing up. He would hold her hand but he wasn’t going to she wasn’t his but he’d allow her to grip onto his forearm like she had been doing even forgetting about her nails digging in. Once the sixth round started Simion took a bad blow that split his eyebrow which made him curse under his breath but then he felt Marina bury her face in the crook of his arm openly sobbing on him. He moved his arm as he tried to pay attention and awkwardly patted her back. Alma hardly sobbed like this. Usually, a few tears would run and she’d fiercely wipe them away and then she’d become annoyed by them rather than sad. In fact, he could only count the few times she did sob in front of him on his hand. She preferred to cry alone and didn’t want him around until she was finished. Didn’t seem so healthy thinking of it now. 

“C’mon,” he nudged her to right herself. “It’ll be ok-”

Just as he spoke then it was as if a fire erupted out of Simion who was once lagging from his tough contender's jabs. They were sparing off blow for blow. Until like a fury Simion hit him one after the other. From their front-row seats, Bill could hear the hard blows and the sweat spraying off their bodies as the punches connected one after the other. With one final uppercut Simion knocked out his opponent. Lights out. 

The crowd went absolutely crazy. Bill even jumped from his seat cheering and pumping a fist in the air, he won too. He won big tonight. 

“Holy fuck!” Bill said, running his hand through his hair as his main stressor lifted from his shoulders. “God damn it,” he shook his head in disbelief. “Simion fucking did it.” He said, turning to Marina who was now crying happily. 

With his coat in his hand, he quickly put it on and grabbed Marina's wrist. He needed to leave before the crowd rushed and blocked him in. The training crew lifted Simion on their shoulders celebrating his win as they left the ringside. Aaron was watching from the entrance of the corridor, he was in charge of watching the locker room that held the crew's items. He was glad for that because at least it was someone he could leave Marina with while everyone else was still celebrating in the ring. 

“I’ll leave you with Aaron over there if that’s okay. But we need to see the bookie first.” 

He was right up after a few other guys who’d collected smaller wins. Luckily a lot of the crowd were still cheering or arguing with each other over the results of the fight. First, he collected the five thousand dollars for the sixth-round knockout. The bookie wrapped the bundle of cash in butcher's paper and slid it over. Bill put it under his arm while he arranged the dealings of his earnings of the night. The five thousand was only his part of the pot, he had won much more from it. With Simion’s win and the pot earnings, he couldn’t take that amount of cash home tonight so he and the bookie arranged for it to be delivered to Trigger Finger. The bookie even offered collateral on his part to ensure he’d get the money. Bill knew this bookie to be respected and good on his word so he accepted. By tomorrow at 9 am he’d be waiting with security for the delivery at the club. 

He turned on his heel and while he was happy as hell he kept a cool poker face. He took the 5k out from under his arm and handed it to Marina and she looked at him shocked. 

“No, Bill. That’s your money I can’t,” she said, pushing his hand back. 

“You picked the round, you were right. Fuck, you really are his good luck charm,” he laughed.

“No…” she said, looking up at him shaking her head. “No.” 

“I won’t accept that,” he said, pushing his hand forward and placing the money on her chest forcing her to take hold of it.

She grabbed it and looked shocked. “This is crazy shit Boss,” she laughed. “Thank you.” She hugged him tightly. 

“After tonight uh I hope we’ve come to an understanding about what has been said?” He said, giving her a pointed look. 

 “You got it.” Marina nodded. “You didn’t say shit to me on the car ride and you sat in a corner all night by yourself,” she winked. 

“Thanks,” he said appreciatively. “See you at work, Mari.” Though he couldn’t be certain she would keep mum about their time tonight he hoped the money would be a good enough incentive to. 

After paying his drink tab he reached in his coat pocket for his pack of smokes as he headed out into the night. Walking with a few other guests as he reached the street. As he went on to get into his car on the other end of the block he saw a limousine parked at the corner. That’s when his path intersected with Joey Russo’s. He was trying to avoid him and for a moment he felt that he had gotten away. He was helping the well-put-together woman into the limo and saw her flash a cold glance with her ice blue eyes at Joey just as he turned to him.

“Ay, Bill!” Joey said delighted to have gotten to run into him.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and then stomped his cigarette out. He looked at him with a tense smile then. “Joey,” he said with a curt nod. 

“What a fight right?” He said just as the woman inside the limo irritatedly asked him to shut the door complaining that she was cold and telling him to hurry up. “Hm. My wife Carmen,” he wryly smiled. “She’s not so happy that I kinda lied about our plans tonight,” he said lightly chuckling and taking a glance at Bill’s left hand to see if he had a gold band like his own but it was in his pocket while his other was around the handle of his gun. He was trying to find details he may not know about him already. “Do you happen to have another smoke, she can wait.” He said dismissively waving at the limo. 

“I do but I’m kinda in a rush?” He said scratching his neck revealing his bare ring finger to Joey. 

“I won’t hold you up too long.” He said grabbing the cigarette Bill held out for him he even offered his lighter but Joey had his own. “So it’s been a while. How have you been, huh?” 

“Business is still good,” he replied curtly. While he wasn’t asked that, that was all he was offering him feeling no need to speak about himself. 

“Same here. You know after Batter passed finally the old guards backed the fuck off. Buncha old school fucks you know?” He said, giving Bill a knowing look. 

“Mhmm,” he said, straightening his back.

“But that’s long done,” he said, taking a puff of his cig. “It’s the people like us that keep it fresh. There’s no time for old stubborn fools like that. Shit is changing so fast these days you gotta be on top of it or you get left behind.” He looked over at Bill who looked completely disinterested and just wanted to leave. “You rushing back to your girlfriend tonight? Alma?” 

Bill lightly cleared his throat, he didn’t particularly like that he even mentioned her. “Sure,” he said with a shrug as he looked down at him. It seemed to him that he had no idea she lived out of state which pleased him. Had Joey known he would have mentioned it, he liked revealing things he knew to get under people's skin. 

“I saw you sitting with that girl… almost thought it was her at first glance. One of your dancers, maybe?”

“The Dragon’s girlfriend.” He was slightly getting irritated the longer this conversation went on. Joey just wanted to hear himself talk because, during their other run-ins with each other, their banter went the same as tonight. Where Bill said little and Joey just spoke a whole lot of nothing hoping that by saying more he’d get more but it never happened with Bill.

“Ah, nice. Not bad,” he said, nodding his head. He was becoming bored too. There was nothing new with Bill. He liked to keep tabs on most people he’s dealt with but Bill was low on his roster. Just some punk kid who did his family a favor once. He wasn’t an enemy. “Anyway, it was good to see you. I know you’re not very keen on me but like I said that was old-guard shit. Though I have to say there’s no room for people like… well, you know.” He said, stomping out his cigarette. 

“Mm. I don’t think so,” Bill said, scratching his brow. 

“Right.” Joey chuckled. “See you around, Bill.” 

Bill walked slowly to his car after the limousine pulled away. He kept a hold of his gun and soon he was finally alone again. He walked around his car looking through the windows before getting in. He locked the doors, sat his gun on his lap with the safety off, and waited a bit cautiously looking through his rear and side view mirrors. When he felt safe enough he pulled away from the curb onto the New York City streets where he drove at cruising speed as he headed home. 

“Just three more days,” he thought to himself, glancing at the photo of his daughter on his dash panel.