#find my lighter pens again

[the-east-art]

The tango Maureen Sora

[i23kazu]

♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[if-loves]

tug o’ war

// Yandere Aventurine, Yandere Topaz & slight Yandere Jade

sum: At the end of the day, they are just two hotheads. At least, that’s what your boss says.

wc: 1697

warnings: sexual assault, sexual harizzment /j, 2.3 story quest spoilers, inspired by the “checking out” quest, written before jade release, assumptions about what jade does LMAO and also maybe OOC aventurine, topaz, jade

a/n: what was i on

also tried to make it as gender neutral as possible, do let me know if i‘ve accidentally left in anything :)

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

The scene in front of your door is quite the familiar sight.

“Maybe you wouldn’t find yourself in such dire need of a competent manager if you bothered going over the resumes sent to you!”

“Why do you even need another manager? You have plenty, you sure are just being greedy!”

Numby often wanders through your always slightly open door to get pets and little treats from you, probably having learned that Topaz arguing with that blonde haired extravagantly dressed Sigonian meant she would be there for awhile, and likely in front of your door. You didn’t mind being treated like a dispenser however, Numby was quite the adorable trotter. You ought to ask Topaz where she found Numby.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head at the idea. You barely have the time to breathe, where in the universe would you get the time to raise a trotter? Seeing Numby every once in a while would suffice. Lady Jade often gives you the brunt of the work, and although you would never even dream of saying no to her, sometimes you’d wish she’d pity you and give you a lighter load. But you suppose it’s alright, her giving you the hardest bits meant that she trusted you and your capabilities - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Their argument only seems to get louder, more jabs being carelessly thrown at each other without a second thought. It will only be a matter of time before they barge in, and things play out like how it always does - they’ll argue in front of you, then turn to you and ask who you’d rather work for. And as usual, your answer is always your Lady Jade. Then, their phones will beep, and they’ll glare one last time at each other and leave in opposite directions. You’ve never understood their obsession with recruiting you.

With a sigh, you continue your endless pile of work, stacks of files littering your office. The deal with Penacony meant that even more work was piled onto you, loans upon loans being processed by your hand and waiting to be signed off. Moments of relaxation are very rarely in your schedule, if at all. But the salary is good, your boss is beautiful and kind, and you get reimbursed for your modest apartment and all your meals and transportation. You don’t work on field like the Ten Stonehearts or the grunts do, staying in your office with papers and pens as your companions. All things considered, your life is pretty good.

Like clockwork, those two make their way into your office, scowls on their faces. It’s amusing how quickly their expressions change once they see you watching them, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think that they were mad at you.

“Good evening to you, (Y/n).” Aventurine doesn’t waste a second in his attempt of buttering you up, efficiently gaining the starting move.

“Mr Aventurine, Ms Topaz, it is a pleasure to see the two of you again. If I may ask, what brings you to my office?” You smile politely, setting down your pen. If you could just finish this stack, you could go home and flop onto your bed…

“Oh, nothing to be concerned about, I was just wondering if you would be so free as to accompany me to dinner on this fine night?” Topaz replies before Aventurine could, the white haired girl shooting a smug smile at the blonde who could only reply with his own.

“Thank you for the offer Ms Topaz, but unfortunately, I’ll have to decline your offer this time. Paperwork seems to come in like an endless waterfall, and I find myself working overtime more often than not.” You gesture to the stacks by your desk, shrugging helplessly.

“Is that so? Perhaps you should consider being my project manager. I’ve been looking for one, you see, and I think you would do a splendid job. How about a change of pace?” Aventurine swiftly cuts in, smiling charmingly, sandy blonde hair perfectly framing his face as if this were some television show.

“I’ll have to decline that, Mr Aventurine. I am quite happy with my current job.” Your smile is unwavering, but really, you just want to tell them to leave. They’re part of the Ten Stonehearts for Qlipoth’s sake, surely they have mounds of unfinished work to do?

“Hmm, I guess we’ll just have to resort to that.” Aventurine licks his lips and takes a few steps back, closing the door quietly, two clicks sounding. All of a sudden, you don’t feel so safe.

“What do you mean?” You nervously ask, eyes darting from one to the other. Surrounded by your files and papers and the two of them, you not only have no direct route to escape, you also stand no chance against them. Their expressions, like hungry wolves closing in on their prey, eye you greedily.

“As much as I hate dealing with this gambler, he offered me a proposal that even I couldn’t look away from.” Topaz says with a sigh. “He offered a once and for all proposal where we would decide who gets you. Of course I can’t divulge the details, but the only thing you really need to know is that you are the prize.”

“Before you can refuse and claim that you’re happy staying under Madam Jade, she has offered her own hand in this as well.”

It’s like all the air has been knocked out of you, leaving you gasping and dizzy. Proposals? Prize? You? How did this happen? How did you even get here? To have a worked your whole life for the IPC, dutifully doing each and every assigned job without even the slightest hint of refusal, and you, you get rewarded by being treated like something to be given, as if you weren’t even a human being but merely a prize to be given to the winner of this sick, sick deal?

“We only mean well, (Y/n).” Topaz tries to place her hand atop yours, perhaps an attempt to come across as reassuring, but yours immediately dart away as if having been burned. Fully standing up, you take several steps backwards until you hit the wall behind you. Ah, how could you forget - you're trapped.

With no regard for your personal space, each of them walks around the table to be by your side. They take each of your hands, and while Topaz places yours on her warm cheek, Aventurine brings yours to his beating heart. Each side reminds you that they are alive, conscious people who are willingly walking on this path of madness. There is no reasoning with madness.

“We have both lost much, but in return, we have gained much.” She whispers into your ear, and her warm breath reminds you once again that she is indeed alive. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your breaths labored and your heart pounds against your chest as if desperate to leave its confines. You feel her move, and all of a sudden you feel soft lips pressed against your cheek.

“The truth is, for the both of us…” He holds your hand tightly, his voice forlorn yet hopeful, and his lips too meet your cheek in a chaste kiss. When he parts, you can feel his stare. “You’ve become our meaning.”

They are both fierce in their competition to claim your lips, their hunger on full display as their free hands each glide over your body desperately. Their gloves are rough against your skin, sliding under your button up and down your pants, all while they continue their assault on the corners of your lips.

Just as they both inch closer to the middle, your eyes shoot open, the door creaks, and you are all met with a smiling Lady Jade.

“Oh? It seems that I’ve arrived at a bad time.” She chuckles, yet she makes no move to leave. If anything, she only walks forward, inching closer and closer to the three of you.

“Madam Jade.” Topaz and Aventurine both nod in acknowledgement, their cheeks rosy and hands still situated at their places. Neither of them makes any move.

“It seems that you two hot headed children have already made your moves. Ah, how rowdy the youth are these days.” The click of her heels against the cold floor only grows louder and louder, until they stop and she stands right in front of you, a finger on your chin, a snake-like smile on her face. Without an ounce of hesitation or fear, she leans down and places her soft lips on yours, and before you know it she has parted and left you in a daze.

“That’s hardly fair, Madam Jade.” Aventurine groans. “We did all the work, and you just took the reward.”

“Perhaps you of all people should know by now that when the opportunity arises, one should move before the others can even comprehend it.” She tuts, gently taking your hands from the other two. As if acknowledging their defeat, their previously roaming hands also depart from your body, albeit with a few quiet complaints from Aventurine.

“Madam Jade, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Topaz, always eager to please, smiles warmly at Jade.

“As much as I would have loved to continue the show, something urgent has come up. Something… that even I didn’t, or rather couldn’t expect.” Jade delicately pats you down, smoothing the wrinkles in your button up and running her hand through your hair.

“Oh? And what could that be?” Aventurine hums, his curiosity piqued.

“It seems that even Diamond would like to participate in our little game.”

[larissasgirl]

Can I request some HEAVY fluff with regina where reader have a terrible period (cramps, heavy flow, fatigue, always hungry, and just constant sobbing. Yes I'm on my period and I hate everything (except your writing)) (i love your writing)

You can always call me

Helllooo! Better late than never👉👈 Once again, sorry for the mistakes. As my friend would say, I'm just a girl😂 Hope you like it🥺

Saying you were in a bad mood was an understatement. Truth to be told, you weren’t angry per say, but rather in pain. In so much pain that it would knock the wind out of your lungs as you waited for the waves to pass. You had always been truly lucky in that department, as you could go months without feeling any discomfort. But when it happened, when it would be the exception, it would make up for the ones that were pain free. It made it almost impossible for you to function normally. 

You had woken up after your girlfriend, as you reached next to you for Regina, only to find her side of the bed cold and empty. You knew she was under a lot of pressure lately, always going to work before you were even up and coming back at crazy hours of the night. You sighed as you started feeling the familiar wave of pain slowly creeping its way back to you when you got up and got dressed, only for it to grow in intensity as the day progressed. You had contemplated calling in sick, but you knew how hard it was to find a substitute at the last minute, and you truly didn’t have the energy to make up a lesson plan for the day to give it to them. You were working with Mary Margaret at the elementary school, which happened to be the perfect job for you. Regina would often roll her eyes and call you a child, but you could always see through her fake annoyance whenever she said it. She adored you. She adored the way you would often come home with messy braids done by your students during recess and your arms full of drawings, with I love you’s written in messy handwritings and mistakes, which she knew made your heart a little lighter. She loved how happy the tiny humans made you, how you’d often randomly get an idea of an activity during dinner and shared it with her excitedly, wanting her opinion on it. She loved the way you cared so much, not only for them, but for everyone around you. You were a breath of fresh air when she thought she was meant to be alone for the rest of her life, and she absolutely adored everything about you. 

But today, you were completely drained, and you knew even though you were in pain, your kids would still be full of energy. In times like these, you would curse in every language you knew in your head, to be sure that the tiny humans wouldn’t hear, of course. You had managed to push though the morning by sitting down as much as you could, the medication you had taken after waking up slowly losing its effect. You were so thankful when the bell rang for lunch as the kids all rushed to the cafeteria, finally letting your head drop on your arms. You felt like you couldn’t move from your desk, the pain becoming unbearable by the minute.

“Hey, Y/N, do you think I can borrow a…” Mary Margaret, as her usual cheerful self, had just stormed in your classroom, looking to borrow something from you as she did every day. She was always a bit distracted and often misplaced her belongings, and you would usually just shake your head smiling before lending her your pen, your sharpener, or even your paper trimmer. “Are you alright?” she had stopped in her tracks when she had noticed your posture, and you slowly raised your head before you forced a smile on your face.

“I’m just in a little pain, but it will pass,” you shrugged it off as if you hadn’t wished to disappear into the ground over and over again just seconds before. You forced yourself to get up from your chair, leaning on your desk with both hands as you were a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over you. It wasn’t uncommon that the pain would lead to you to be physically sick, getting too much for your body to cope. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be in front of Mary Margaret and on your desk. 

“Are you sure? You’re as white as a ghost,” she rushed to your side when she noticed your struggling, grabbing your forearms and helping you sitting down once again.

“It’s just my stupid period, I’m not the first neither the last,” you mumbled before reaching for your bag under your desk, attempting to find your medication in the mess you had made when you packed it up this morning. 

“I think you should go home, Y/N. You’re clearly in pain,” you missed the way her brows furrowed when another wave of pain rushed over you, a small whimper leaving your lips. 

“It’s too complicated. Besides, the day is almost over” you sighed, before finally finding what you were looking for in your bag, as you grabbed your water bottle to swallow the pill, hoping it would take effect quickly. 

“If by almost over, you mean the hour that will be the lunch break plus the entire afternoon, you’re clearly not thinking straight. Come on, get your things and I’ll take care of everything,” she argued, her hands on her hips, her brown eyes defying you to refuse. With a sigh and no strength to fight back, you started grabbing your things on your desk, missing the way she quickly pulled out her phone from her pockets before typing something and putting it back there before helping you to get your belongings. 

“Thank you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered the last part, ashamed of yourself for leaving work before the end of the day knowing she had to cover for you. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’d rather have you back feeling better so I can keep borrowing your things. Nobody else will let me,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood, which seemed to work as it made you smile a little before guiding you to the school’s front doors. She held it open for you, pointing at the black Mercedes that was parked right in front of you. It took you a second to recognize it, even though it seemed oddly familiar, the sun blinding you momentarily. 

“Did you seriously called Regina?” your eyes widened, feeling a headache forming behind your eyelids. You rubbed them off with your fists like a child, not caring about the mascara you had quickly put on earlier, which made Mary Margaret beam at you when some fell under your eyes, completely obnoxious of the anxiety raising inside of you. She waved at Regina who was walking towards you with her lips pressed together, an indication she was not happy. You were in trouble big time.

“I didn’t called, I texted her. See you later!” she turned on her heels and walked back into the school before you could answer back. You now understood a little better why Regina was aiming for her head back in the Enchanted Forest. You turned your gaze back to your girlfriend, who grabbed your bag from your shoulder, noticing the way her jaw was clenched, her eyes boring into yours with an expression you only took for anger even though her movements were nothing but gentle. 

“I’m so sorry Regina, I didn’t know she would bother you at work,” you hesitated, looking at your feet, not daring to meet her eyes. It seemed so silly to pull her out of her office when you knew she was so busy simply because you had your period.

She grabbed your chin with her hand, her thumb slowly brushing circles on your cheek as she forced you to meet her eyes. They were much softer now, almost glossy, and you realized that what you had mistaken for irritation was worry. 

“You never bother me,” she pulled you close to her, holding you the closest she possibly could, your face finding its usual spot in her neck. You breathed in her scent, your shoulders dropping as the anxiety left your body before wrapping your arms around her waist as tightly as you could. “I want you to call me when you’re in pain,” she whispered into your hair, swinging you lightly from side to side. “I want to be there for you, Y/N,” she pulled back to look at your face, but keeping you close to her, your eyes flooded with tears as she gently brushed away the ones that managed to escape. “You always come first. Please, never hesitate to call me.”

You were sure your knees would give in if she wasn’t holding you close to her, the love and worry filling her beautiful brown eyes making a new wave of tears escaping your owns. You simply nodded as she softly grabbed your hand, not before wiping the tears from your cheeks once again and kissing it when she was done. The way she would drop her stubborn, sarcastic attitude and become so caring, so gentle with you, even though you were in public, and no matter who watched never ceased to amaze you. It almost made you sob. “Let’s go home now, shall we?”

She led you to the passenger’s side of her car and opened the door for you, as you sat down with another wave of pain stealing your breath away. She noticed immediately, being familiar with your often painful episodes from the year you’d been together, and gently kissed your forehead before closing the door and making her way to the other side, sitting down behind the wheel and driving off right away. “We’ll be home soon, and then I can put warm water to heat for the bag and make you tea. Deal?” she briefly looked at you to make sure you had heard her before returning her attention on the road, seeing you nod in the corner of her yes.

“And we can cuddle?” you whispered, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear it.

Regina smiled widely and glanced at you again, pulling a hand just above your knee, rubbing your skin softly with her thumb. “Yes darling, we can cuddle,” she laughed, making you blush at the nickname, and also because you knew it meant she had taken the rest of the day off to spend it with you. It made your heart swell with love for the woman sitting next to you, not taking your eyes off her for the duration of the drive. 

It appeared to be much faster than usual, even though you didn’t lived too far from the school. You blamed it on your fuzzy brain and on your lack of concentration, being too busy staring at your girlfriend, not knowing Regina had sped up a little, hating to see you hurting so much and wanting to take care of you as soon as possible. She helped you to get out of the car and argued with you over carrying your bag inside, before you finally gave in and let her do it. She opened the door and you went in, letting yourself fall on the couch with a sight. You closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths, hence why you didn’t noticed when your girlfriend wrapped your shoulders with your favorite blanket that had little brown bears that you absolutely adored and that she hated, stating it was made for children and that she wasn’t one. It made you giggle a bit when you peeked through your heavy eyelids to see what she had wrapped you in with, only to notice she wasn’t next to you anymore.

“And what are you laughing at exactly?” she questioned from the kitchen, leaning in the doorframe to get a better look at you. You figured she had put water to boil as you noticed the empty water bag in her hand, your eyes softening even more at the sight in front of you.

“You gave me your favorite blanket,” your mouth was curved into a soft smile, hinting that you were finding it utterly adorable and were simply teasing her a little. 

She rolled her eyes but smirked at you, happy to see you almost back to normal, turning her attention back to the kettle, the high pitching noise indicating the water was hot. She carefully filled the water bag and screw the lid shut as tight as she could, as the last thing she wanted to do was to burn you. Then, she reached for the tea box and quickly filled a cup with water before making her way back to you, setting the fuming mug on the living room’s small table and hanging you the now warm water bag. She sat next to you, her leg touching yours, and studied your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. She was relieved to see the colors returning to your face slowly, having also noticed that you were paler than usual when she had picked you up. 

“Thank you, Gina,” you smiled gratefully at her, the warmth seeming to help with the pain almost instantly, and the medication from earlier having probably kicked in too, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. “Lie down with me?” you battled your eyelashes and gave her a little pout when she unwrapped the blanket from your shoulders, feeling cold immediately. She kissed your lips gently before laying down on the couch, pulling you down with her, being careful to leave enough space for you to place the water bag. She draped the blanket on you both this time, which almost made you want to tease her again for being wrapped in the blanket she seemed to hate so much. You immediately wrapped your arms around her after making sure the bag would hold itself in place between you two, nuzzling your face in her neck and placing a kiss that made her shiver. She felt your lips curl into a smile again her skin at her reaction, holding you tighter than before. 

“Thank you for everything. I love you, Gina” you mumbled, feeling exhausted from the pain that seemed to temporarily have given you a break. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll always take care of you,” her nails tracing your back made it hard to stay awake, feeling more than content wrapped safely in your girlfriend’s arms. “Close your pretty eyes, I’ll still be there when you wake up,” she whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. And you did, knowing that no matter what happens, you’d always be safe with Regina by your side.

[doestalker]

in smoker geto we trust 🛐

yes we dooo so here's more smoker!geto !!

your legs wobbled and seemed to have a mind of their own as you tried to navigate through the sweaty bodies in the nightclub. the colorful lights blurred your vision, and you were pretty sure you stepped on more than a few toes with your heels. the music's heavy bass thudded in your chest, and instead of pulling you in, it made you feel more disconnected. the air was thick with a mixture of perfume and the smell of too many bodies together, it was all too much. fuck, i need some fresh air, you thought as you pushed foward towards the inviting green sign that read 'exit'.

as you stepped outside, finally breaking free from the chaos of the club, the cool air hit your face, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat inside. you fumbled with your coat, trying to slip it on, and staggered slightly before finding your balance. leaning against the rough brick wall next to the entrance, you took a moment to steady yourself, savoring the crisp night air as it began to soothe your senses.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see someone was standing a few feet away from you, on the other side of the door. you turned your head a little, it was one of the kitchen staff taking a smoke break, judging by the basic white tee under a black apron.

he wore his long hair like a cloak of jet black, while his weary eyes were framed by faint dark circles, revealing a depth of fatigue—evident even from a distance. a cigarette, halfway burned, dangled from his lips. the glow of ember lit up his face amid the darkness of the street as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his head resting against the wall, watching it swirl up into the night.

for a moment, he caught you staring and you blushed. despite his tired looks, he was undeniably attractive and you were sure you looked a mess of frizzy hair and sweaty makeup. he gave you a lazy side smirk.

"can i have one?" you asked, voice cracking a little mid sentence. you cleared your throat.

he looked you up and down, then let out a soft, amused laugh. "what's the magic word, princess?" his voice was like velvet—soft and deep, as if the cheshire cat had stepped out of the shadows and become human.

you ignored the heat burning in the pit of your stomach. "please?"

his smile widened, accentuating his monolids and wrinkling the outer corners of his eyes. with a casual grace, he reached into the front pocket of his apron and pulled out a pack of menthol cigarettes. he picked one and handed it to you.

as you put the filter over your lips, you turned to him, a touch of embarrassment on your eyes. "do you have a lighter?" you asked, your voiced tinged with shyness from asking him for something again.

he chuckled softly, brushing off your embarrassment with a reassuring nod as he walked over to stand in front of you. he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver lighter. with a flick of his thumb, the metal wheel sparked and a tiny flame flickered to life. he held the lighter steady, the warm glow briefly illuminating your face, as he brought it closer to the cigarette on your lips.

you breathed in the intoxicating blend of his cologne and nicotine as you took a deep drag, and he watched with a faint, satisfied smile, his eyes still twinkling with that lazy, knowing glint.

"what's your name?" you asked, exhaling the smoke through your nostrils.

"suguru geto," replied the tired man in front of you. you couldn’t help but think that exhaustion had never looked so attractive on anyone else. "my break's over, but here," he said, pulling a pen out of his apron pocket and taking your hand. he scribbled his number in black ink on your forearm before giving you a mischiveous wink. "in case you're out of lighters."

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Mentions of dub/non con, Power imbalance, SMUT!! Lots of smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 3

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

As you enter your cubicle the morning of the office party there's a package on your desk. It has a note that simply says, "For my good girl." You giggle a bit out of nerves Lloyd is coming on stronger than you like. He definitely has the potential to be a good Sir, and part of you is quite flattered that he's already taking such ownership of you, but you've yet to actually agree to anything.

That was a lesson learned the hard way: talk about your limits before getting into bed. Your last Dom wasn't interested in discussion and you thought that was just his way, that he would at least listen to your color codes and safe-word. If it weren't for the club's owners you don't doubt you would have ended up in the hospital. Still, you've yet to go back for fear of trusting another Sir. At the very least, though, you can tell Lloyd that you need to talk before you accept his gifts, his ownership.

You decide to use the gift as an excuse to visit him in his office, later in the day. Leaving your desk for your break time, you walk to Lloyd's office and knock on the door.

"Enter," he barks. His angry look melts away a little when he sees you. "Maestro! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You close the door behind you before taking a seat across from him and setting his gift on the desk. He frowns. "I just...I need to make sure...I'm sure you're a good Dom, a good Sir, but I need..."

His eyes soften, "limits and boundaries. Even before you get a taste of the goods?"

You nod, "last time I did that I got hurt." Lloyd's jaw tightens at that. "So I promised myself I would never do that again. I need to talk about limits and I need to know you'll respect them. Given that you haven't been putting my job at risk since I talked to you, I think I can trust you on that front. But I'm not accepting a gift from you until we talk."

"Absolutely," Lloyd agrees, his attitude is all business. He pulls out some paper and a couple of pens. "Let's go ahead and write down things as we talk, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir."

You return to your desk feeling much lighter, maybe even giddy. It's been so long since you've had your needs met. And you're sure Lloyd's going to satisfy. He was asking all the right questions, giving all the right reassurances. He treated your needs and concerns with all the seriousness you weren't sure he was capable of.

Letting yourself get back into the swing of things at work, you almost forget about the gift Lloyd got you: an angel costume. Nothing fancy, but definitely cute with just the right amount of naughtiness. You're to put it on before visiting him in his office after the party starts.

A few minutes after the party starts, you sneak your way to the floor of Lloyd's office. Finding a bathroom nearby, you use that to switch into the angel costume. You feel so giddy and hopeful as you look at yourself in the mirror. You don't know how he guessed your size so accurately, but the skimpy costume fits quite well.

Peeking out the door to make sure there's no one who will see you, you quickly skitter to Lloyd's office and knock on the door.

"Enter," he barks. You do so, making sure to close and lock the door behind you. You turn towards him and await his command. Because you're keeping your head down, you don't see Lloyd licking his lips at how good you look. "Come here," he orders and you're quickly at his side, kneeling in obedience to his hand gesture. He cups your face with his large hand, making you look up at him. "Put your work clothes under your knees," he purrs. "I don't want you to hurt yourself on this god awful floor."

"Thank you, Sir," you chirp as you obey.

When you're settled at his feet, Lloyd starts caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch. "You're absolutely gorgeous," he comments. "I can't wait to ruin you in all the best ways." He smiles at your whimper. "I wonder how responsive you'll be when I'm teasing that pussy of yours with my fingers. I'll bet you've never been fucked by such a large hand, have you?"

"No, Sir," you breathe, desire quickly building in your core.

"I wonder how many of these fingers that hole of yours can take," he ponders. "Maybe a good girl like you just needs one or two." He grips your chin, "or are you a little slut who can take my whole hand?" You let out a bit of a strangled mewl as your pussy clenches around nothing, imagining those hands on you. He moves his thumb to your lips and you automatically open your mouth, making him chuckle. "Not yet, Maestro. First, let's give your hands a test run. Unbutton me."

Wasting no time your hands work to undo Lloyd's belt so you could get to the button of his pants. The outline of his erection has you biting your lower lip. You want to unzip him, to gag on his cock, but you were only ordered to unbutton him so that's all you do.

Lloyd caresses your cheek again, "do you see something you like, Maestro?"

"Yes, Sir," you whine.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he orders.

"I want to choke on your cock, Sir," you confess, a little bashful.

Lloyd moans and you see a twitch beneath his pants. "Take my dick out and give it a kiss." You're quick to obey, your breath hitching at the size of him, before kissing the tip. "Good girl," he coos. "Now choke yourself on my cock. And yes, you can use your tits as well."

Lowering the shirt of the angel costume, you let your breasts out and use them to sandwich his cock while you set to work on the tip of his dick. You build up speed as you take more and more of him in your mouth, rewarded by his moans as he pats your head. You feel your saliva dripping onto your breasts and use it to massage his length even more. You're occasionally choking on him as you repeatedly take him to the back of your throat.

"Look at me," Lloyd growls, and your eyes immediately turn to him. "Fuck, that's it, that's a good girl," he praises. "Haven't had a proper suck in so long. Wonder if I should cum down that slutty throat of yours or all across those gorgeous tits. Maybe even all over that pretty face." You whimper, trying not to get distracted by your needy pussy. "You like that? You want me to cum all over your face? Mark you with my cum?" Lloyd smiles at your needy whine.

He grabs your hair, stilling you, "hands on my legs, Maestro. Remember, three taps to get me to stop." You give a little nod and place your hands accordingly before he starts roughly pushing you down on his dick. You're repeatedly gagging, gasping for air as you struggle to breath through your nose, but your pussy is dripping wet from the rough treatment and the noises of pleasure coming from Lloyd. "Shit, your mouth feels so good," he moans. "Taking me like the good slut you are. Fuck! I'm gonna cum all over your body. Gonna claim every singe inch of your body as mine."

Without warning he almost throws you back and you gasp for air. "Press those tits together and keep that gorgeous mouth open," he orders. You do so and your vision clears enough that you see Lloyd jerking himself off, making you open your mouth wider. "Fuck, Maestro. Such a good girl for me, making me cum so fast and so. Fucking. Hard." His cum splatters all over your chest, some of it getting onto your face.

He catches his breath but you don't move, just staying in the position you were ordered to, despite how needy your pussy was feeling.

He pets the top of your head again, "you were such a good girl for me. Did really good for our first time together. I think you deserve a reward." You whimper at that and he chuckles. "Stand up," he orders, and you do so. He grabs your clothes and lays them down on his desk, "lay down on your back."

It takes you a little help from him because of how big his desk is, but soon you're laying on your clothes, legs spread, silently begging Lloyd to fill your pussy. He places his palm over your mound and uses one of his fingers to play with your hole making you quietly whine.

"You're a good slut for me," he teases. "So damn wet I could probably slide my cock right in." He quickly pushes one of his fingers into you, up to the knuckle and arch your back, desperate for more. Lloyd leans over you, putting his arms on each side of you, "we don't want to get caught, so I'm going to need you to keep quiet. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," you nod fervently.

"If you want something to bite down on, let me know."

"Thank you, Sir."

Lloyd moves one of his arms down your front and resumes teasing you as he kisses down to your breasts, licking some of his own cum off of you. He uses his tongue on one of your nipples, alternating between licking and sucking. His hand roughly shoves two fingers inside your cunt and you arch back, eyes rolling in pleasure as scissors them in and out of you at a harsh pace.

"Sir, Sir, please, Sir, thank you, Sir, please, Sir, Sir---" you clamp your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet as you cum, clenching around Lloyd's large fingers. He continues finger fucking you until you've come down a little.

"Good girl," he purrs. "Keeping quiet like I told you to. Did you enjoy my fingers?"

"Yes, Sir," your voice is raspy.

"You look so pretty when you cum," he grins. He lowers himself so his face is between your legs. "Let's see how many more I can get out of you."

Part 3

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

[slvthrs]

okay well now i need more dealer!vinnie x reader 😫

ofc babes!!

STARGIRL INTERLUDE | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

after you and your drug dealer start dating and he just can't help feeling just a little too possessive of you

DRUG DEALER!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, use of drugs, relationship sex, degradation n praise kink, pet names, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), choking, jealous/possessive vinnie, daddy kink, spanking

word count: 1.7k

Me and Vinnie had been dating for nearly a month and we were planning to celebrate our anniversary by going to have dinner at his apartment but we both had to go to our friend's house for different reasons- I was there to support my best friend during her birthday party and he was there to sell drugs.

So cut to me currently sitting in front of my mirror doing my makeup- it’s was my everyday look of black smudged eyeliner but I added some shimmer on my eyelids to make them pop and added a deep red almost black lipstick to the middle of my lips and smudged it out- Vinnie’s favorite.

I fluffed up my hair and tried to find some sort of hairstyle to wear but I just ended up wearing it down. I was wearing a mini skirt with a red corset top- I was wearing a jumble of rings and necklaces along with his silver choker from hard jewellery. On my feet were platforms along with knee high black lace socks and to finish the outfit I was wearing Vinnie’s oversized leather jacket. 

I had finished my makeup and now I was sitting on my bed grabbing the stuff to put into my black purse- my phone, airpods, cigarette box, money, ID, lighter and my weed pen. That was when Vinnie walked into the room and looked at me with a sort of excitement which I then realized was due to the fact I was wearing his jacket and just in general of how good I looked.

“Peaches” God I loved that pet name, he sat in front of me on the bed, “You look so fucking good” he sad planting a kiss on my lips,

I giggled against his lips, and he continued “Do we have to go out, I bet Chloe won’t even know your missing” he argued

“Babe, it’s Chloe. I’ve known her since forever c’mon we just have to make an appearance and you have people who expect you to be there” I say with a pout and then drag him off our bed and then plant a kiss on his temple.

He was wearing a white david bowie top along with boyfriend jeans in blue and some nike air forces. The outfit was completed with gold rings on his hand and a gold necklace around his neck. To put is easily he looked fucking amazing I ruffled up his blond locks a bit and planted a kiss on his lips and pull him out of the apartment. 

We end up situated in his car and I connect my phone to the aux and scroll through my spotify to find a good song but I just end up putting my likes on shuffled and it ends up on ‘Stargirl Interlude’ and I start dancing in my seat and lip syncing to the song,

“I had a vision, 

A vision of my nails in the kitchen, 

Scratching counter tops, I was screaming, 

My back arched like a cat, my position couldn't stop you were hitting it”

The lyrics just end up causing Vinnie to end up in a fit of laughter and I end up smacking his arms and asking him to stop acting like a middle schooler with fake offense in my voice, 

“Holy shit what is this song called” He asks while trying to compose himself, I just grin at him and tell him it's called Stargirl Interlude,

“Oh wait it’s like the song you made me listen to um what was it OH WAIT STARBOY” He exclaims and I just nod at him chuckling at myself, 

“So wait if I’m Starboy does that make you my Stargirl” He asks and I think about it, “Hmm I guess so, I’m your stargirl” he just laughs, “You bet you are,” and then he kisses me again

— — TIME SKIP — —

We’ve been at Chloe’s party for about 3 hours and both of us want to leave but Vinnie has one more thing he has to do so I just end up waiting for him while on my phone when a guy come up to me, 

“Oh hey I saw you from across the dance floor, you look really pretty” He says, he’s about 6 foot, and is wearing a black dress top and black jeans, damn nice clothes,

“Oh thanks” I saw with a friendly smile hoping to end this conversation

“I was wondering if I could get your number your just like really hot” Fuck this is going to be an annoying conversation

“Uhm actually I have a boyfriend so no thanks” I say trying to be as nice as possible

“Oh c’mon I don’t see him anywhere” He says trying to convince me

“He’s in the back and I’m seriously not interested” I say backing up but eventually hitting a counter

He keeps trying to get my number for about 3 more minutes while I keep telling him to stop until I meet Vinnie’s eyes across the room in front of the door looking like he’s about to hurt someone, and that's when I remember that it might look like something entirely different to him.

I maneuver around the guy and I run to Vinnie who is almost outside the door as I call out his name, “Vinnie just listen to me!” I yell and all he does is tell me is to get into his car

We just sit in the silence waiting for eachother to say something, we don’t say anything until we get into the apartment and as soon as the door closes he’s on me.

His lips smash onto mine as I’m pressed on the door and he’s pulling my jacket off, “I thought I was gonna go crazy seeing you flirt with him” He says as he pulls his lips off mine and onto my neck.

“Vinnie, fuck, I wasn’t flirting with him” I moan out

“Fuck, I know baby I know but I need to remind you who you belong to got it?” He says it like it's a question but it’s a statement, a command and a promise.

He pulls me off the door and I’m bent over his countertop with him pulling of my skirt and my  panties in one swift motion and smacking my ass causing me to yelp and he grabs the base of my neck making me look up at him into his eyes that have darkened with something more sinister, 

“I’m gonna make sure the only thing you can say after this is my fucking name, got it whore?” He says while slapping my ass again causing me to moan a ‘yes daddy’ under my breath

He takes his dick out, pumping it a bit and then running it through my folds and slamming it into me, gaining some of the most porngraphic moans that have ever left my mouth.

He places his finger around the choker on my neck and then pulls my head back and then spits in my mouth, “C’mon whore swallow it” he says as his eyes narrow and darken

His hands don’t leave my neck instead they let go of my choker and now he’s choking me letting me see stars, it doesn’t take long for my orgasm to come crashing as I cum around his dick.

He pulls me off and then spins me around and picks me up and takes me to his room and places me on his bed but he doesn’t join me he gets up and walks to the living room to grab my purse and pulls out my weed pen.

He sits in front of me and takes two puffs of the pen and then pulls my mouth close to him and blows the smoke into my mouth, the mixture of the weed and the eroticness of the situation makes my head spin and I pull Vinnie into a messy kiss still recovering from my post oragasm haze.

I climb on top of him and I rub his dick with my cunt making him moan in my mouth and letting me relish in the power I have. But it doesn’t last long until he’s pulling me off of him and pushing me on the bed and climbing on top of me to fuck me.

He lines his dick up with me and slams into me again causing me to tip back my head and arch into him, I claw at his shirt and he gets the hint and pulls his shit of but not before he pulls of my shirt and I run my hands up from his abs up to his chest and I start biting in hickies into his chest until I grab his hands and start kissing his finger and then put the digits into my mouth swirling them around with my tongue and sucking on them as if they were his dick.

I open my eyes to see him staring deep into me just watching as I suck on his finger, he’s so focused on looking and me that he’s stopped moving and is just staring, “God your such a whore for me aren’t you, your my little bitch” I don’t respond I just moan around him finger and pull them out with a pop!

He takes the hand I was just sucking on and brings them to my clit and starts circling it and continues thrusting into me chasing his own orgasm, I’m so close that my legs are shaking and I’m about to cry while he just places a kiss on my lips and continues his agonizing pace. 

He finally cums after I cum for a second time and pulls out of me rolling over and he gets up to walk to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean me up and then finally lays down next to me grabbing the weed pen, and doing a few puffs before he passes the pen to me letting me take a few puffs before I succumb to my tiredness but not before he kisses me and calls me “My precious girl” as he cuddles up next to me and we succumb to our exhaustion.

[jello-library]

The Roommate Program (PT 2/?)

Finally part 2!! This one focus more on the reader/self insert!

Also I want to try writing the letters so you can get a feel of what being written instead of just getting vague descriptions!

I hope you enjoy it! 💛

Your first letter from your pen pal was…something else…to say the least. Paired with a prickly friendship bracelet. You felt like you opened Pandora's box with that first letter.

You sigh as you sit down in your office chair looking down at the blank sheet of paper nervously. What in the world do you write back? I mean, writing a letter about yourself is easy but continuing conversations is harder than it looks. What do you say now “Hey I heard you went to solitary confinement was it fun?” Like how you continue talking with him?!

Twirling the pen in your hands your wings twitch and flutter nervously. You joined the program because being a past patient at the Theraprism who managed to opt out of the recarnation ceremony praise the axolotl for that one. You thought it was nice to try to give back to them you know to show that redemption is worth the effort! You felt like you had a pleasant experience there or maybe because you were more cooperative than your peers.

But after the copious amount of interviews and several months of being on the waiting list.

You finally were met with a small envelope congratulating you on your approval into the program and your pen pal. You thought things were finally going well for a chance.

Until…you were brought to have a one-on-one conversation with THE Axolotl themselves you felt like maybe this wasn’t a good idea anymore…They wanted to talk about your pen pal, Bill Cipher. You were somewhat familiar with the name mostly being associated with the chaos he left in his wake.

He was a force to be reckoned with.

Was…

“He is someone who is quite..um…complex..” Look up from your teacup to glance at the other being across the table. The word “Complex” still feels like an understatement to you. The axolotl smiled down at your eyes laced with slight concern before continuing.

“I’ve read your file..” Shit. ”You seem to have been the star patient during your stay. Self-admitted leading to 500,000 years stay before you were released. The top storyteller during puppet hour.“

You can feel yourself getting hot with embarrassment as you sink into your seat. “Yeah, Dr.Oswald says he misses my shows…” You swirl around the remaining tea left within the cup. You don’t know what to say or why they brought you here to begin with. Did all the other participants go through this conversation as well?

“I already know why he joined the program. But I hope for a better outcome than another trip to Wellness Void and I think you can help me with that.”

Looking back down at the blank sheet of paper the pen feels more lighter in your hand now. Just breathe and relax if you mess up you can fix it later.

Dear Bill,

Sorry for my first letter being so plain I can honestly admit I’m a bit nervous about messing this up. I never knew how to talk to someone without it feeling awkward so this is a new step for me. As someone who used to be in the same position you’re in I feel like I can you some advice on how to make your stay less boring! Like, if you want to get out of group therapy it’s time to start taking advantage of art time!

Start doing big projects that take up time with this when art time is over you can ask to stay. But it’s important to say it so can present your piece to the next time group therapy session! Use this advice sparingly those counselors in there are nice but they ain’t dumb! Also if the vending machine is still in the cafeteria hold down on the C button it should give you an extra snack but it’s sadly randomized.

Well, I hope this letter finds you well and also thank you for the bracelet I hope to make you something special when I write to you again!

Sincerely,

██████

[derww]

DAY 15: TREASURE

A young man stands in his bedroom. He would like to lay down on his bed, but on it, right across, is a red-haired menace, sweetly sniffing in his sleep. As a good teammate and friend, he kicks him a couple of times, but the guy doesn't even think to wake up; he's too comfortable in someone else's room and someone else's bed, so he rolls his eyes, gives up, takes his pillow, and knocks on the door next to his. The door is unlocked, but he still waits for permission before entering.

Subz's room is somewhat similar to his; it also has a lot of light and fun. But it is much more chaotic: none of the surfaces are made of appropriate materials, clothes, papers, and garbage are scattered everywhere, and an iron golem is dancing in the middle. But it has a bed. And ItzSubz_. ItzSubz_ was an important addition.

– Hi, – Subz waves at him, but does not turn around – he is working with the plans of his current project. Zam doesn't peek – he doesn't want to violate Subz's personal lines, – we haven't seen each other for a long time, – this is an irony: just a couple of hours ago they had a dinner together, where they threw food at each other and discussed whether to invite Spoke to the next game night. The final decision was just to see if he would show up on his own.

– Vi stole my bed again,– he says, and then throws his pillow across the room, onto Subz's bed, and lands on the bed after.

– Is that why you decided to steal mine? – Subz sarcastically clarifies, pausing to look at him. There is a strange warmth in his gaze, – And where do I sleep, in Vi's catacombs, right under the bookban? 

–Why, – he grumbles, looking for a suitable sleeping position, – sleep with me. The three of us once slept in the same bed. – Subz's mattress is much tougher than his, it almost does not bend and retains its shape, but Zam has been sleeping on the floor for several months, so he does not mind.

– Well, then why don't you sleep with Vi, – Subz objects, but it's obvious that he's not serious, that he doesn't mind him being here, just joking. – Vi is soft. He will be your dakimakura.

– You know how he can be, – he remarks with a yawn, – he fills the whole space with himself. You have to either sleep on the floor or lie down on top of him. Thanks, I'll pass.

– Everything comes with the time, – Subz calmly answers, and Zam, finally finding a comfortable position, throws a blanket over himself – no, rather even a plaid knitted by Subz himself, lighter and not so warm, covered with moons – and finally closes his eyes. He is used to sleeping in the light, but he notices that Subz muffles it, and a smile spreads across his face.

He feels himself... at peace with the world around. His body doesn't seem to weight anything, and the soft plaid wraps around him, and the muted light touches his eyelids, and the methodical creaking of the pen drives him into a trance. He almost falls asleep when the sound subsides, and then the mattress bends and Subz slips under the blanket next to him. He doesn't hug him, but the bed is narrow enough for them to touch each other indelibly, and for some reason it feels insanely intimate. Having found his place, Subz reaches out to stroke his hair, and he does not dare to move.

– Good night, Zam.

– Good night, Subz, – he whispers back. 

He can't sleep for another half an hour because of how fast his heart is beating. He wonders if Subz notices. But, in the end, he still manages to fall asleep.

He doesn't remember very well what he's dreaming about. That's what he remembers exactly: he doesn't like this dream. When he wakes up, he feels one thing: relief. He tries to be as careful as possible, but Subz still wakes up. 

– Two o'clock in the morning? – he asks skeptically, checking communicator, – seriously? We have a day off, and you jumped up in the middle of the night.

For them, every day is a day off. He sighs.

– Bad dream, I'm going for a walk.

Subz looks at him attentively, almost without blinking. And then, in a few quick movements, he gets out of bed and stands in front of him. Zam tries to persuade him to go back to sleep, but it's useless, and he gives up.

Vi has already woken up; he is lying on the floor in the main hall and reading a book – Zam does not recognize the author. Noticing them, he stands up and waves, smiling.

– Hi guys! – radiating the power of a thousand suns, – how are you?

– Zam had a nightmare, we are going to the surface, – Subz sums up.

– I'm with y'all, – Vi instantly replies, and while Zam is choking on a hundred words, Subz shrugs his shoulders, and the three of them leave the base. In the process, Vi feeds Zam an assortment of caramels and a scattering of sweet berries. Zam quickly comes to terms with it.

Predictably, it is night on the surface. It's peaceful here: they live far from everyone else, and such moments enchant with a sense of communal loneliness. Rejection of reality. Being in your place.

– It's not bad up here,– Subz shares, and Vi, smiling, elbows him:

– Then start going outside at last! Touch some grass more often than once a month.

– I'm not so hopeless, – Subz grumbles, – and I'm busy; the project won't make itself.

– Can't you design it, I don't know, – Vi gestures strangely, clearly unable to catch the right word, – while here? In nature? Not that anyone would bother you!

– It's noisy, – Subz refuses, – nature is loud, the light is of the wrong strength and direction; the wind is too strong. I appreciate my comfort; thank you very much. – Vi giggles as if he finds it funny, but does not continue.

They walk under the twinkling moon together, talking and joking. Zam doesn't say anything about it, but Vi gives him his cloak, and of course he feels warmer now, but he stares at Vi's true form now and can't get enough of it. In front of strangers, Vi didn't even show his nose from under his hood, and the fact that he made him feel freer than ever was liberating in its own way. He, lost in thought, collects flowers along the way and then weaves them into a wreath and puts it on Vi's head, and Vi smiles, and Vi hugs him tightly, and Vi says that he loves it, and Zam really, really wants to be happy.

Its... peaceful. No one bothers them. They are completely safe and just enjoying the common moment, and it is easy for him to forget about a bad dream and any other worries. They return back to the base right before dawn, and he asks to give him some time alone, and Vi and Subz, after exchanging glances, nod. No matter how close they are, the moment they see that he needs space, they give it to him.

Once alone, he goes out into an empty village full of traces of his stay and forces himself to take a deep breath. The air smells of cinnamon for some reason. Slowly, as if reluctantly, it begins to dawn. He stares at the faint outline of his shoes in the gloom, knowing that they are smeared in mud. Something in all this doesn't sit right with him.

He eventually raises his head.

The sky is full of life. There, billions of light years away, civilizations die and are born, and space travelers plow the void in search of adventures, putting their lives on the line again and again. But none of it belonged to him, and that's why the richly painted canvas seems so empty and flat. 

The silvery-white stars winking at him seem to be glued to the hemisphere of the ceiling. Each of the countless myriad placers looked through him like an ugly panopticon. Every single one of them didn't care. 

The color of the sky is just slightly too blue – barely enough for him to notice. The moon hanging above him lacks only a crescent moon to become full. This time, the void has nothing to offer him. 

[trashmouth-richie]

Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 1: FLICKER

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THR REDLIGHTS

chapter summary: flashbacks provide some insight on our favorite metalhead.

chapter trigger warnings: 18+ only, character death, references to child neglect, upside down references, poor parenting practices, etc, blood, character death, killer reveal.

CH. 4: FAMILY VALUES

1974

The tires on Evil Kneivel’s Stunt Bike trudged through the familiar path of the bare thread carpet in the back bedroom of trailer 8 in Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie was on his stomach, ignoring the rumbling noise from the hollow emptiness in his belly, he pressed his lips together to vibrate a motorcycle sound through his mouth, casually blowing dark curls from his vision. 

An annoyed huff echoed across the thin walls, “This is boring,” Billy snarled, he was laying flat on Eddie’s bed, feet on the wall, throwing up his stretch Armstrong to himself before tossing it across the room, landing with a splat on the broken closet door. 

Eddie pushed himself up from the carpet, the fibers itching through the holes in his jeans and scratching his knees. 

He shrugs, running his tongue through the gap of his latest pulled tooth, “wanna see my guitar?” 

“No,” Billy huffed, his thumb nail catching along the ridges of the zippo lighter he had stolen from Melvalds, lighting a small flame that he quickly extinguished with the flip of the lid. “I wanna do something fun.”

“Alright then, genius,” Eddie scowls, sitting next to Billy on the brown and burgundy ripped threads of an afghan blanket, “what do you have in mind?” 

Billy swings his feet around, landing with ease and standing before his friend, the smirk on Billy’s face was one Eddie knew all too well. 

—

Neil and Al didn’t hear the boys sneak out from the back room, too drunk and elbow deep in “work” to notice their sons had pushed the screen outward and hopped down to the ground. 

“The instructions are clear, Al,” Neil said, his mouth around a can of Pabst, scrubbing a dirty thumbnail through his eyebrow, “here let me see that.” 

Al blows a cloud of smoke into the air, handing over the poorly written note on the back of the Hideout napkin, clad with ketchup stains and spilled coffee. “Don’t know how you can even read this shit.”

“I can read that’s how I can read it dumb fuck,” Neil snapped, grabbing the napkin from him, he looks over the scratchy pen marks, pointing at the instructions again, “see right there, Creel laid it all out for us.” 

“Okay wise ass, but it doesn’t make sense. How the hell are we supposed to break int- into that place without anyone seeing us?” Al puts the butt of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray, blowing smoke around the side of his mouth. “It’s under surveillance and the guards are armed.” 

“The guards are armed.” Neil mocks, “Jesus Christ you sound just like a woman, how many cars have we boosted?”

“That’s different, easy. Breaking into a secret government lab? This is above our pay grade, and your skill level.” 

“Yeah and your big brains are why you got fired from the mill right?” 

“Shit,” Al downplays, “they didn’t pay worth a damn, boosting and dealin’ keep my pockets lined just fine.” 

“If only it was enough to keep Liz around right?”

“Don’t say that bitch’s name in this house, I’ll slit your throat and use it for an ashtray, Hargrove.” 

“Ahh shit,” Neil quips, “don’t get your panties wadded up, but back to this,” he says waving the napkin around, “the tunnels, that’s our way in.” 

—-

Eddie’s van is barreling down the highway like a bat out of hell. Nancy hasn’t stopped crying, slowly wiping her tears, with the front of her shirt, sniffling every so often. 

You’re grief stricken, numb to whatever the hell just happened, and what those things even were— and to top it all off, Eddie somehow knows?

Steve is leaning on the center console between you and Eddie, back seat driving and giving him directions on how to get to his house. 

At first Eddie had thought about going to his trailer, he knew his dad and Wayne kept their rifles in the back shed, but decided against it at the last minute, hollering over his shoulder for anyone having an idea of where to go. 

How safe could he keep everyone if his house was bordering on enemy lines? 

—-

1983

The Hargrove’s house was nestled on Cherry. Older but comfortable, a damn sight better than the paper thin walls of the trailer, and the soggy couch that reeked of spilt beer. 

Billy was going on and on about his girlfriends, yes plural. The blonde haired Gina or was it Jenny? And Tanya, the rich one who lived by Steve Harrington. 

Junior year was different for the boys, where Billy excelled in popularity with the jocks being a basketball star, Eddie fell into a different crowd, the Hellfire Club.  

They were still friends, still causing trouble on nights you couldn’t hang out, Billy now refusing entirely to hang out with Eddie when you were around, which you weren’t complaining about. 

Eddie takes another swig of Mt. Dew and continues drawing a rogue for one of the older guys, Nico, in Hellfire. He was only half listening to the way Billy was describing the differences between the girls, body type mostly. 

“If you want in on the action big boy just let me know, Gina loves hearing Metallica play when we steam up the windows in my car if ya know what I mean,” the cigarette hanging limply from his lips wiggled as he spoke, sending ashes down to his black converse. 

Eddie immediately thought of you. He wasn’t sure of his feelings when it came to you but he wondered if you’d be weirded out that Billy was planning to get him a date. How would you feel if he went out with some chick?

The idea of you kissing someone made his stomach turn, and not in a butterfly way. 

Instead of listening to Billy bitch about how much he can’t stand you and how you’re holding Eddie back he just went along with it, “yeah man, sounds good.” 

“Sounds good?” Billy questions, racking the weights he was lifting with a thud, checking his traps in his reflection, shooting a look over his shoulder, “I’m trying to get you laid, dude.” 

Eddie looks up from his seated position in the corner of Billy’s room, his fingers were silvery from shading the lines of his drawing, pinked eraser rubberings littered the front of his new Metallica shirt. “Yeah man, I’m down, what’s her number.” 

Eddie wrote the number on the corner of his paper, barely registering what else Billy was saying, his mind wandering to what kind of shit his dad was up to this time. 

Al was home for a longer stretch than normal this time, but he seemed to spend every waking minute at the Hargrove’s.

Eddie wasn’t dumb enough to think that his dad actually wanted to hangout with him. 

Oh no, Al Munson had his priorities whenever he came back to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, and seeing his only son wasn't the top of the list. 

He went to the bar first, picking out the waitress with zero confidence, saying all the right things and tipping her just enough to make her think she was really something. When her shift was over, he’d bring her to a sleazy by-the-hour motel, giving her the ol’ Munson magic and then, when she was in the shower or cleaning up in the bathroom, he’d bolt. Driving to the nearest gas station casino and spending whatever money the waitress had in her purse. 

He’d finally crawl back to Wayne’s when he was bone dry, claiming he was home “for good this time!” And how he, “just wanted to hangout with my boy!” 

Turns out the “hanging out” was going over to Neil’s and getting shitfaced drunk, bringing Eddie to tag along, to prove to his brother that he was a good dad. He failed to mention that Eddie would end up locked in Billy’s room until dawn. 

So no, getting laid wasn’t on Eddie’s mind right now. 

“I told Tommy H to leave you alone, told him I’d fuck his girlfriend again if I caught wind of him messing with you.” Billy said, shoving his chest out proudly. Maybe if he helped Eddie spread his wings, he’d stop getting picked on, but in Billy’s eyes, Eddie brought alot of it on himself sticking up for those fucking nerds he always hung out with. 

The Hargrove kitchen table was covered in the same paperwork they always were when Al came over. Weird haikus, and riddles that were partly solved, a timeline of when and where everything needed to take place, and lastly, a complete blueprint of Lonnie Byers’ house. 

Everything was just about set in stone, the only thing the men couldn’t figure out is why Creel had decided that it had to be Lonnie’s son as the baited sacrifice. And whenever they asked, Creel would say the same thing, “an eye for an eye.” 

—

1986

“Right here,” Steve said, pointing his hand in Eddie’s face and out the window to his big behemoth of a house. 

The kind of house that belonged to a homeowners society, telling you when, where, and how to water and mow your grass. Not the type of neighborhood that housed the brown piece of shit on wheels that was arriving into the Harrington driveway at record speeds. 

Steve fumbled with the door and had to pry Nancy away from the van, she was petrified, her body shaking and tense, beneath his arm. 

Eddie turns to you, tapping you gently on the shoulder and when you don’t move he guides your chin towards him, his heart breaking at the sight of your tear filled eyes. 

“I’m gonna keep you safe, okay?” His eyes were large and the worry on his face only made you more scared, but he tried to put on a brave face for you, “c’mon, we gotta get inside.” 

Steve’s home was decorated with expensive paintings and gold fixtures. The kind of decor that wasn't available at a mall but ordered from some lavish designer in New York. The living room had vacuum lines in the carpet, as if it were never used. The wood floors in the foyer sparkled from the overhead chandelier, it was a catalog home, looking as if it were staged for a photo 

shoot rather than people actually living in it. 

Nancy’s cries echoed loudly around the empty Harrington home, Steve scooped her up like an infant and carried her down the carpeted steps to the open basement. 

Eddie still wasn’t acting like himself, his eyes were clouded over with something you couldn’t pinpoint, plagued with grief? But you felt reassured when his fingers curled into the spaces between yours as you followed Steve and Nancy to the basement. 

—

NOVEMBER 9, 1983

“You working tonight?” Eddie asks at your locker, ringed fingers working over the corners of a Polaroid of you and him last summer when he tried to teach you how to skateboard. One of his favorite memories. 

“Nope,” you answer from deep inside your locker, looking for the crumbled history notes you swore you still had for todays test, emerging from the locker and hitting your head on the way out, “ow fuck! Nah I’m off tonight, Don closed since Joyce’s son has been gone, why what’s up?” 

Eddie shuts your locker and shifts his worn notebook to his other hand, “it’s Wednesday, the Hawk has free popcorn, thought maybe we could see a movie?”

It wasn’t weird for two friends to go to a movie together, you and Eddie had done it multiple times. Completely casual. Even if the heat from his fingers bumping against yours sent flutters to your stomach and he quickly moved his hand like you were a snake that had bit him, a blush forming on his cheeks. 

“What time?”

“I dunno, seven? Pick ya up at 6:30, that way we can stop and get snacks to sneak some snacks in to go with our free popcorn.” 

His boyish grin was the same from when you were kids, dimple dipped cheeks, and the darkest eyes twinkling with mischievous glee.

The door to Mr. Stanley’s Chem 210 was open and you stopped before going in the classroom to give Eddie your answer, “fine, but I want twizzlers.” 

—

“What the hell do you mean it’s not enough? We did exactly what you said, solved each fucking riddle!” 

The weathered boards of the Creel House groan as a screaming gust of wind slaps loud against the old home, the late winter storm rattled the wooden foundation and pelted the window panes with ice, pinging loudly with each large gale that forced its way through the cracks of the poorly maintained home.

A small fire crackled in the sunken fireplace, wafting dark plumes of smoke into the living room and ashing soot onto the cobweb covered furniture. 

“He makes the rules, I do not, I am simply a messenger, a ves—,” a tattered mitten hand cups around his mouth, acting as a poor excuse for a shield against a barking, wet cough. Lungs burning with each wheeze of oxygen leaving. He clears his throat when the fit is over, wiping his mouth with a moth bitten scarf around his sagging neck, leaving blood behind, “..vessel, I don’t make the rules, Neil.” 

“A what?” Al quizzes, shifting uncomfortably from his left leg to his right, “we delivered that kid exactly where you told us to! The whole town thinks he’s dead! Hawkins PD put out the report last night that a body was found by the quarry.” 

Creel pokes the fire with the blunt end of his cane, crumbling a reddened log into pieces, adding a wadded mass of newspaper, the face of Will Byers’ missing poster front and center, his cherub smile warping with the heated flame. 

“The boy is hiding somewhere. The creatures can not find him, he is convinced that there is help from our side.” 

“Impossible,” Al scoffed, rubbing the cold of his nose on his sleeve, “I just talked to Chief Hopper at the Hideaway last night, and according to him it’s a closed case, Lonnie and his former ol lady were making funeral arrangements.” 

“What you hear, and what you see, seem different ways to hold the key.”

“Enough with the psychological bullshit!” Neil yelled throwing his beer across the living room, “tell us what he needs from us.” 

The blackened tooth smile creeps onto Creel’s face his red chapped lips split and bleed, and he holds back his cough just long enough to whispers the same fallacy he was given only hours before, in another dimension identical to this one. 

“A son.” 

—

The wind was ripping snow across the streets of Hawkins. The windshield wipers on Eddie’s van had frozen in place, stopping half way in the middle of the windshield, the shitty wipers no match against the freezing, winter rain. 

You were certain that the seat belt in the passenger seat had never been used before tonight, but Eddie was insistent that you wore it, foregoing his own with a you’re kidding right? look. The whites of your knuckles shine bright with each overhead street lamp that dances lazily on the windshield, and Eddie looks over with a laugh.

“Almost there Pebs,” he mumbles, his mouth snug around the filter of a cigarette, a half smirk on his lips, “don’t worry.” 

The storm foiled more plans than just good driving conditions, apparently The Hawk had closed earlier that day when the windchill dipped down to the negatives, Sal ensuring that his employees had plenty of time to get home before the weather took a turn for the worst. Thankfully Family Video was still open, and Eddie’s trailer was empty for the night, save for a couple of beers in the fridge and the heat from an electric blanket. Apparently the manager of Family Video didn’t give a fuck about the roads, neither did the factory. 

You and Eddie were met with the rolling eyes of Steve Harrington as you two shoved each other out of the way to get into the door first, bringing with you a cold gust of wind and chattering teeth.  After securing The Poltergeist and two boxes of peanut M&M’s, you and Eddie were tucked into the tin can death trap on wheels, trekking slowly to Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

The bumpy driveway was nearly covered by the falling ice and snow, causing Eddie to slide into his parking spot, well the front yard, of trailer 8. Before he jiggles the key out of the ignition, a man’s shadow illuminated the front door, the burning end of a cigarette glowing on a presumed inhale, and Eddie mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“Stay here, okay?” He says with a shallow voice, his eyes never leaving the front door of the trailer, “I’ll be right back.”

What the hell was his dad doing at home this time? Maybe he was confused, thinking it was Thanksgiving already— probably wondering where the turkey and green bean casserole were. 

The door of the van groans as Eddie pushes it open with his shoe, slamming it shut and hearing the crinkle of built up ice breaking away from the frame. Ice was gathering in his hair as he scurried up the steps, the shadow moving away from the door so Eddie could come inside, and once the threshold was breached, he wasn’t surprised to see his dad standing in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette, long fingers wrapped around a can of Wayne’s breakfast PBR.

“There’s my boy,” Al greeted with a false tone of cheer laced in his voice, “only been waiting here for an hour, I need your help with somethin’.”

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters, shutting the door tight and shaking his hair free of the elements, “must have lost my schedule on your flight arrival.”

“Watch it,” Al snaps, his eyes are bloodshot and dark rimmed, voice gravelly, “I’m in no mood for your shit tonight, alright?”

Eddie tuts through his teeth and shoulder checks his old man before walking to the living room, pulling the cord from the wall jack, unplugging the tv. Holding it against his hip to bring it to his room.

“What the hell man, I was gonna watch that!” Al yells as Eddie trudges into his room, shoving shit off his dresser with a sweep of his arm, putting the small tv down he turns to find his dad right behind him, glaring menacingly at him, nose to nose. 

“The rabbit ears haven’t worked in months, guess you’ll have to go to Neil’s..”

His insult is cut short as Al grabs him by the lapels of his denim vest, shoving him into the closet door, busting it off the sliding track. 

“Listen to me you little fuck…” Al spits, literally into Eddie’s face, “I said I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight, ya got me? I need your fucking help for once in your life, can you manage that?” 

“Get off me,” Eddie sneers back, trying to hide the trembling in his jaw as he grits his teeth, “I’m serious.” 

I'm serious, Dad! Al mocks, shoving Eddie harder into the closet, the splintering wood busting beneath his shoulder blades. “I ain’t ever asked you for nothin’ in your whole damn life, let you live here with Wayne, no rules no nothin’ and now it’s time to pay up. I need a favor.” 

His eyes were shocking in a desperate way, anger riddling his irises. 

Eddie thinks fast to his underwear drawer, the wad of cash shoved into an old sock underneath a sticky playboy, “I don’t sell whatever you’re on, and I don’t have any cash.” 

“Ain’t about money, or horse, Eddie boy, you remember my friend, the one that lives in the old house on Morehead?” 

Eddie thinks back to all the “friends” Al had ever introduced him to. There was Bud the one who owned the bowling alley in Bridgeport that had a fake eye and an gnarly looking scar on his face from a dog bite, Willy Jack who helped take the plates off of the van and scratch up the VIN number when they stole it from that scrap yard north of town, he even painted it any color Eddie wanted, but somehow the friend he was talking about wasn’t registering. 

Raising an eyebrow, Eddie shakes his head no. “Doesn’t matter,” Al said all too quick, “his son has been missin’ see, for years, and we need your boys’ help finding him.” 

“Who’s we?” Eddie asks, finally wiggling free from his dads hands, straightening his jacket, “and why the fuck do I need to find him?” 

A closed fist breaks through the paneled wall next to his chin, “enough with the questions Eddie goddamnit! I need you on this, and you’re not gonna tell me ‘no’ you understand me?” 

Eddie had never hated his dad more than he did at this moment. If he were older he’d swing a fist into his gut, knock his lights out once and for all, but he didn’t dare, shoulders slumped and the weight of the world and all its guilt piled onto him. He had no idea what kind of shit his dad was getting him into, only the gut wrenching feeling that something was terribly wrong, and the only thing he could do was nod his head, agreeing to lend his trembling hand. 

Across town on Cherry lane, Neil Hargrove was having the same friendly little “discussion” with Billy, but the conversation was different, lighter, happier, and the two Hargrove men seemed to be on the same page for once in their lives. 

—

OCT. 1986

The Harrington’s basement was set up much like the Wheeler’s but on a grander scale. Large tv tucked behind an oak cabinet,, a beige leather couch that seemed to stretch across the entire living room area, a surround sound system in each corner,  two bedrooms and a full bathroom. Setting Nancy down on the plus couch and covering her small form with a wool blanket, Steve opens a closet door and wrangles out a new set of golf clubs, leaning them against the wall, and running his hair through his fingers, as if he’s trying to make a mental list of household objects that could be used as a weapon. 

The phone rings noisily in one of the bedrooms and Steve leaves to answer it. 

Eddie still has your fingers between his, his rings leaving small indents but you don’t mind, it’s a comfort. He’s muttering to himself, in a tone only he can hear, biting the nails on his right hand with grinding clicks of his teeth. Looking at you his expression falters for a split second, trying to put on a calming mask, nonchalant-like even though inside he was screaming. 

It wouldn’t be long before the Demodogs came, especially if the Demogorgons were out, would he be looking for him? Wondering where he has been? Why he’s been gone? 

He guides you to the couch, a grand gesture with his nail bitten hand, grabbing a blanket and putting it around you. 

Steve emerges from the back bedroom, a tiny bit of relief in his eyes, “that was Robin, they’re on their way here, I guess they barely made it out.” 

You wince at the thought of everyone dead at the carnival, the way Argyle’s body was ripped to shreds, the howling cackle from Creel, the way he stood with his arms in a welcoming hug, just an hour ago you were convinced you were going to kiss your best friend, now the majority of Hawkins was dead. 

Steve turns to Eddie, with wide searching eyes, fumbling for the right words but failing, “I need answers man, right now.” 

—

Robin hangs up the phone, blood drying on her fingers from when she tripped over the gaping carcass of Tammy Thompson, her face covered with streaks of dirt and god knows what else, “ Let’s go! Everyone’s at St—”

A stinging in her spine brings heat, warm and dripping, then fiery hot, a hand on her shoulder she turns to see his maniacal eyes, the blood from the gash on his head now trickling into his mouth, white pearls stained in ruby. 

“I did you a solid Rob, killed that bitch for you—didn’t even think twice about it, because we’re friends,”  blood now trickling down her back into the waist of her scoops ahoy uniform shorts, she garbles a breath cusping on the breath of a question. 

“shh,” he reassures, wiping tears from her freckles lined cheeks, extracting the knife from the well in her back, he helps her lie down gently, “this isn’t going to kill you, it’s just temporary you see? I can’t have any distractions, I can’t let you get in my way, but don’t worry!”

 He moves to rip the phone cord from its hook, “I’ve done so much research on this meticulously studying over books on ways to cut the human body, what would hurt the worst, the least, the angle of the knife  was just right, I guess I could be wrong,” he scratches his head, the whites of his eyes rolling as the smell of blood starts to work him up, an ache he can’t scratch, “hmm… take care, yeah? I’ll be back.” 

A pool of blood blossoms from Robin’s back, flowing into the blue carpet fibers of her room— in tandem with the slow blink of her eyelashes meeting. 

The ignition of his car engine backfires with a gunshot noise, the bloody knife he used to kill the others laid gently on the leather of his passenger seat. 

Driving down the desolate streets of Hawkins, he looks in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, Jonathan Byers likes what he sees. 

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @katethetank @munsons-mayhem28 * @mandyjo8719 @joannamuns9n @littlebookworm86 @hunnybuns-world @feyremunson

[southernbluebellereader]

Please, ma'am, could I request a reader who's a people pleaser and a perfectionist. Someone who always tries to stay optimistic for other's sake. Preferably platonic but I don't mind either way.

Do whatever else you want with it. I just think the dynamic with the team and a high-strung happy-go-lucky personality would be interesting.

Tenderheart Bear

A/N: Hi Bestie! I got you, girl! Look at me *holds your face* I got you! This is so cute! I love! Because this is literally me lmao. Also I got the name from the Care Bears lol I'm sorry (No, I'm not lol) but I hope you like it!!! - I hope you're ok with me making the reader a field-medic. I also made her a slight cry baby, mainly because I am a cry baby. I hope you're ok with that lol

Taskforce 141 x F! Field Medic Reader who's Miss Happy and a People Pleaser Perfectionist (like me lol) - PLATONIC

Warnings: Cursing? Members of the 141 being stressed and depressed, per usual.

Master List (tag list at the bottom)

Sometimes the members of the Task Force 141 wondered why their Captain had brought you onto their team. You were just... so nice.

You're always smiling.

You're always in a good mood.

You're always seeing the bright side of things - even on the field.

You were a field medic. Even field medics had some sort of arsenal of weapons, yet for some God damned reason you refused to carry any of them, except for a few utility and military knives - which is all you ever needed really. Johnny dared to ask you why - and beg you - to have something else other than a knife.

"No, because how would I be able to carry more medical supplies?"

Johnny looked at Simon with a dumbfounded expression, then back at you, "No, you at least need a gun, lass!"

"Sergeant, I don't need a gun! I have you guys!" You shrugged as you continued to pack your medical backpack.

"Oh my God, Woman!" Johnny exclaimed, waving his hand in protest as he left the room. "LT, please talk to her."

Simon looked over at you, sighing slightly, "Y/N, he has a point."

"I haven't had an issue before, why would I have an issue now?

"Y/N. What are you going to do if you get cornered? A knife isn't going to protect you against bullets."

"True. But again, I have you guys."

The vein already bulging out of Simon's forehead became more prominent.

---

"Wait, stand still!" You sucked in a breath, pressing your lips together as you bandaged Kyle's arm. The mission was over and you were waiting for a helicopter to come and pick you and the team up.

"Y/N, I'm fine." Kyle told her calmly.

"No, I have to re-wrap it because you keep moving, Serg-" Your eyes began to gloss over. Kyle placed his free hand over one of hers, making her look at him.

"Hey. You're ok. I'm fine, just a little surface wound. The bandaging doesn't have to be perfect, just good enough for us to make it back."

"But it'll get infected if I don't do it right!" You pouted, tears threatening to fall.

Kyle took a deep breath and re-assured her once more: "Y/N. It's ok. I'll be fine. You'll be fine. You did good out there."

---

Captain Price patted each of the pockets of his cargo pants, looking for a pen. You stood beside him, holding a pen out for him. He thanked you for it, and started looking for something to write on.

You pulled out a small note pad from one of the side pockets of your cargo pants and handed it to him. He looked at you for a moment, thanked you again, then started looking for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"My cigars."

"Oh, you left them in your right jacket pocket with your lighter." You smiled at your Captain who just looked at you, then walked over to his jacket that was hung over a chair and checked the right pocket, finding his cigars and his lighter. Thinking you may be playing a prank on him, he looked at you for a moment, then thanked you.

---

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Simon sat on a chair beside you while you were being patched up by one of the nurses on the base.

You couldn't meet the Lieutenant's eyes. Your eyes glossed over and tears threatened to fall. "Because I got hurt- I didn't- I couldn't-"

"Y/N. Look at me."

The nurse had left, leaving you and Simon. You took a deep breath and finally looked at him, eyes puffy and rosy cheeks from crying earlier.

On the inside, seeing you hurt, or seeing you cry, or upset - at anything, wrung his heart. He scooted over and looked up at her, speaking softly, "Hey. You did good out there, sport. We all get hurt on missions, you know what - there's a reason we got you on our team. You're our little healer - and we protect our little healer. But you getting hurt this time was not your fault. If you should blame anyone, blame me because I didn't keep an eye on you."

Simon - or anyone else on the team - only spoke softly to you - they all knew that and you knew that. Because they cared. You made sure they were patched up on the field. You made sure they were ok. You were their little healer. It was only natural that they make sure you're ok.

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

TAG LIST

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat

[whorediaries-09]

are you death or paradise?

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s) - throwing up, hurt/comfort. a/n- god i should really stop breaking my own self lmao.

little train. series masterlist.

sirius found himself in the corner of his room, disgusted by what he'd done. he hated himself, and in the drunk haze, he slipped into a little bubble of deranged anger and despise. he found himself clenching onto a piece of parchment and a pen. he wanted the pain he felt to be shattered. so he decided to write it down, burning it into a flame.

'prongs, i hate it here, please take me with you. what if it didn't happen if i was made the secret keeper? if i changed anything would you still be alive, prongs? do you hate that i begged you to make peter the secret keeper? do you hate me prongs? am i to blame?'

the tears stained the parchment. he felt his body burn, and within the pocket of his t-shirt, he found a lighter. staring at the girl asleep on his bed, he burned it up. his arteries drowned with the poisonous pricks of his blood. his breathing differed and he shuddered as the cold air bit him.

he hooted to the little owl he had bought. it flocked onto his shoulder.

'can you find remus?' he slurred with half open eyes. 'please?' the owl stared at him with it's big amber eyes that reflected through its black feathers. as if it understood his words, it nodded before flapping its wings and flying off into the night.

*-

the owl had been nipping at remus' ear, trying to grab his attention. even to the owl, it seemed weird that the lanky male was up at the dead of night, drinking black coffee and reading the newspaper as if it was the beginning of the day.

remus didn't understand why the owl had been there. or how the owl had been there. or why the owl was there. remus had his flat in the most secluded-if not the most darkest alley he'd found. it was cheapest he could find, after all.

his eyes shimmied over the bold headline on the newspaper.

'sirius black freed, but has disappeared? what is the mystery behind the man?'

another obnoxious article by rita skeeter, remus thought. the news of his long lost friend was the hot gossip, and everybody was in the watch out to look for him. his face was printed onto the front pages on the paper for the last few days. the shift from the front page to somewhere in between, he supposed was a change.

he had also received sirius' letter. reluctantly, he had agreed. however, when he went to the three broomsticks to meet him, he had not showed up.

the owl nibbled his ear again before perching on his lap, prodding at the moving picture of sirius on the paper.

'are you sirius' owl?' remus asked. the owl turned his head, blinking and agreeing, as if he understood his words. with an earnest glowing fire in his eyes, the owl tried to speak to him with his eyes and hoots.

the amber glow of his eyes contrasting against the black feathers strangely reminded him of sirius. perhaps he'd gotten an owl just like himself...

*-

sirius found himself being jerked awake. his mouth was dry, lips wet with saliva as drool drooped all over himself from his open mouth. his body ached.

'padfoot, wake up!' remus said, holding up a pair of pants. 'please wear this pants, we have a guest!' he startled awake, his head thumping against his skull. he stared aimlessly at his bed, the sheets crinkled and dirty. his mind tried to make sense of the things that happened around him, but he couldn't ignore the feeling of ache that spread all throughout his body.

'fuck, moony, you're here,' he whispered. his gut churned as he tried to stand up, his vision dizzying. remus wrapped his hand around his shoulders telling him to sit down on the bed and handing him the boxers he held.

'wear them, then we'll talk.' he said, his voice harsh. sirius nodded slowly, lowering his head into his hands. he breathed slow, letting his head ache and gut churn. with slender movement, he slipped his legs, sliding the boxer up to his scarred narrow waist. slow and hot, he felt salty water accumulate into his mouth, the hangover getting the best of his sanity. he spilled out whatever he had consumed the last day, throwing up on the floor.

a soft, strangely familiar hand wrapped around his hair, pulling it up, simultaneously rubbing his back for comfort. he felt his gut bubble for the last time as he spilled out every bit of food consumed. with tear stricken eyes and a rumbling stomach, he stared at remus, who cleaned up the mess with a simple spell.

'you're okay,' the familiar voice whispered from behind his back. 'you'll be okay.' you said, a tad bit more stern as he whipped his head around to look for the source of your mouth.

'lupin, please help me get him up. he needs to freshen up. i don't know how many whiskeys he had last night, but he smells pretty booze-y.' remus merely hummed, helping you to carry sirius into the bathroom. you filled up the bath with warm water and the cherry flavored body wash kept beside.

sirius hazily took off his clothes, ignoring remus' pleas to not get rid of them in front of you. he was too far gone within his crumbled ruinations to care. he plopped himself into the bath.

'lupin, can you set the tea?' sirius' eyes opened droopily,

'how did you know i have tea?' he slurred, staring at your standing form. you rubbed the back of your head, sitting down on your knees beside him, sponge in hand. you rubbed the water on his back.

'you told me the other night,'

'i'll go and make the tea, actually,' remus said, awkwardly walking away. tenderly, you rubbed the age old scars on his back. they were healed, yet visible from the fading ink of the tattoos on his back. you rubbed agonizingly slowly as if the scars still hurt.

perhaps they didn't. but the chronicles behind them certainly did.

'are you looking at my scars?' he asked, twisting his head to stare into your eyes, catching you off guard. there was a glow in them you'd never seen before, a strange glow that felt so familiar to be within the curtain of his gray irises. a hue that belonged within him.

'maybe,' you said, continuing to rub the soap on his body. with slender, cold and wet fingers, he tucked your stray hairs behind your ears. as the sun rose, the golden light illuminated through his windows. it fell directly upon your features, enhancing your features.

he felt his heart soar. words stuck on his tongue as he watched you tenderly, bitterly wash him off. it was as if the lightening had struck again, and he was outside in the rain, his body and heart bleeding. as if he'd felt james' warm embrace again as he took him in. as if it was maa yet again cleaning him up, with papa vowing to never let him go.

but in his mind, he knew it wasn't james or maa or papa. he was in his doomed loophole of prison that burned him to the very core. perhaps he was escaping death, freeing himself from the cold hands of death. but where was he escaping? who was his paradise?

were you the paradise he was escaping to?

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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[language-of-love]

Am I really writing fic again? Not sure...but I guess maybe...cause I wrote a thing. Colin and Penelope have me in a vice, y'all.

No idea which of my blogs to use since this is a new fandom for me, so I chose this one. (*waves hello*) Do I even remember how to make a post? LOL

Anyway...here's a tiny little kiss fic, cause that's what I do.

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

never been kissed...

His first was an embarrassment. Fumbling fingers mixed with overwhelmed breaths, the memory built up in his estimation as more revelatory than it was in actuality. There were feelings, undefinable, but new and full and far from perfunctory. The stirring he’d imagined to feel in his belly he’d felt, but not for the nameless partner, but more for the act itself. He’d been left wondering if there was more, something beyond the fluttering like moths wings and mild nausea he’s still unsure was from the touch of another's lips or his nerves alone.

His second was rushed, drunken and hazy, the remnants of it only tickling at the edges of brown liquor-poisoned flashes of dimly lit sights and muffled sounds. His pockets were left lighter from too many coins spent for something so unmemorable. 

His third was better. Confidence and less alcohol proved to be improved bedfellows than his previous encounter, experienced lips matching his eagerness and hands finding purchase on areas before unexplored by soft fingers. He’d flushed at the intimacy of the act, thought back on it fondly, but remembered her hands far more than her mouth. Perhaps that is to be expected.

The few more that followed brought pleasure and exploration, but each one leaving him searching for that elusive something…something life-altering, something poetic, something… more . Looking back at his diary from that time, his confusion over his own feelings, or lack thereof, is etched into the pages with long dry ink. How could he have known something so seemingly unknowable to a man of two and twenty.

The next was his last, the last of the life he’d known before and first of the life irrevocably reshaped after.

Every millisecond of it is etched on his heart, forever being retraced with each minute that passes spent by her side. The warmth from the blush blooming beneath the impossibly soft skin of her cheek, it still causes his fingertips to flex at the slightest reminder. Her eyes, two swirling oceans of impossible blue, wide and questioning, slowly fluttering closed as he'd drawn her closer. He’d never felt so exposed, so uncertain, yet confusingly certain at the same time. That slight pull in his gut he’d felt before, it was nothing contrasted to the plummet his stomach had taken as the plump fullness of her bottom lip made contact with his own. If he’d known what electricity to feel like, he’d have been able to describe it with perfect accuracy. It was quick and searing, warmth being drug to the surface of his skin at the speed of a herd of wild horses tearing across a meadow. And then it was gone, over far too soon and leaving him near panicked and needy in ways when he looks back on he can’t help but feel foolish. He can’t give himself the credit of courageousness or strength for drawing her back in, for it had been born out of necessity, an inability to not have his lips back where they belonged. With each soft slide of her mouth against his own and the warmth of her breath igniting the space between them from the sighs escaping her throat...the formula, the construction, the intricacies of how a kiss was supposed to feel came crashing through the haze he’d been wandering through much too far away.

Entirely too far away from her .

How was he to know that this thing he’d been searching for had been here all along? 

Not this thing, this person . This singular being who made it all make sense.

Pen.

[wintrcaptn]

Wish I Loved You In The Nineties

Joel Miller x Reader

Summary : right person, wrong place, wrong time.

A/N : this will be a few parts. I just wanted to write some angst cuz I miss it 😭

This was just a quick intro. Cuz the next few parts will go into more detail about their feelings, the tension, the cute angsty moments, etc., I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings : cursing I guess? Age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is 26) virgin. 2.2k words

"Wait, there's a library! I'll be five minutes." You said.

Joel turned on his heels to face you but before he could even say a word, you were off. Annoyance washed over him instantly as he followed you to the library.

"One day im gonna put a damn leash on you." He groaned, walking few paces behind you.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him completely.

Joel was the only consistent thing in your life lately other than books. He had saved you from raiders a little over a year ago.

And though he fought himself for a short moment on whether or not he should even care to help you, he couldn't just turn his back.

And ever since, you stuck around him. Following him wherever he went. Even when he told you to leave, over and over again.

But that was the thing, you really had no one to go to. All the people you ever cared for had died, and well...you were tired of trying to fend for yourself. Look how well that went.

Now, here you were. Annoying Joel for the hundredth time.

He had grown used to having you around by now. And a part of him began to feel protective of you.

Even when you pissed him off, and pushed every single button of his from all your constant questions of life before it turned to shit.

You were only 5 when it happened. And now, 20 years later...those memories have only faded more and more.

But there was one thing that always shut you up...books.

If you weren't annoying him with all your constant talking, he would find you curled up with a book, pens and high lighters.

You always knew how to lose yourself in a story. And you read anything you could get your hands on. Didn't matter if it were thriller, romance or science fiction, and fantasy.

Anything that took you away from the real world.

"One book. Got it? Ya already got too many."

"You can never have too many books, Joel. Maybe you should grab one for yourself." You said, as you quietly opened the door.

He rolled his eyes.

The library had books all over. Some on the shelves, some tossed on the floor, and tables. There had been moss growing from the trees sticking through the broken windows.

"It's so beautiful." You whispered.

"Don't go too far. You stay where I can see you. Got it?"

"Mhm"

"Repeat it."

You stopped in your steps and turned to meet his gaze. "Go far away where you can't see me."

"Dammit, kid—"

"I'll be right in this aisle, where you can see me. Okay?"

Joel could care less about the sarcasm, but he enjoyed having you around. But he would never admit that to you. Not even to himself.

"Ok, I got my book." You said, walking over to him.

"Just one?"

You shrugged a, soft smile forming on your lips.

"How many?"

"Only four! Look, they had 'An Offer From A Gentleman.' And 'The Time Travelers Wife.'"

"More romance books?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ain't ya tired of the predictability?"

You sighed, shoving the books into your bag. "Sorry for wanting to read books with happy endings sometimes. It's not like I'll ever get that in this lifetime."

Joel swallowed hard as he took in your words. He had the luxury to remember life before the infection. Before life was a blur.

It wasn't as simple as the books, and it sure as hell didn't always end up in happily ever after for everyone. But he did have the chance to fall in love, to feel the butterflies after a first date, and the build up anxiety before a first kiss. Even having gone through break ups...

You never had any of it.

"Come on." He said. Feeling a bit off when he noticed the different tone in your voice. "We should head back to camp before it gets dark."

————

You were quiet most of the walk back. Reading the third book in the Bridgerton series.

Reading Benedict Bridgerton's story had made you swoon. It reminded you of Cinderella, a story your mother used to tell you before she died.

He was whiny at times, sure. But the way he knew what he wanted...which in this case, was Sophie. He didn't care about his rank in society. He wanted her. And when he fought for her, you heart swelled.

"God, what I would give to be loved like this." You stated, closing the book.

"Ya finished it already?"

"It's not like I have anything else to do."

Joel shrugged in agreement. Once you had reached the campsite, he made you both coffee while you got some food prepared that you found on your quick supply run.

"Were you ever in love?" You asked absentmindedly.

Joel furrowed his brows, crossing his arms over his chest. "What'd I say bout personal questions."

"Come on! I've been following you for over a year now. You know almost everything about me!"

"Not my choice."

You looked up at him and glared at him with your tired eyes. "Just give me something. Anything."

He rolled his eyes, glancing at the coffee next to him.

"Please? You don't even have to tell me anything really personal...just..idk—what was your go to pick up line?"

"Out of all the people in the world, I get stuck with you." He groaned. "I ain't doin this with you."

"Fine, then where was your favorite place to take a date to?"

Joel stood there, leaving against the truck. He had already been annoyed, but here you were, annoying him even more with questions he didn't want to think about.

"Please? I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night if you just answer at least one of my questions."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew he should just ignore you, but today...he just couldn't.

"Fine. Didn't do much but take 'em to a drive in and maybe an arcade if she were into it." He said. "Now leave me alone, already."

A smile formed on your lips and you pulled yourself up to your feet.

"So you did go on dates." You teased. "There's a heart in there."

"Shut up."

A little chuckle escaped you as you stood next to him, watching the sun begin to set ahead of you.

"I wish I could've been born earlier. So I could've experienced that at least once in my life."

Joel let out a sigh. "Trust me kid, you ain't missin much."

"Easy for you to say! You got to live it. But all I have are books and my imagination."

"Maybe get ya head out of those damn books and go find someone."

"Where Joel? In the abandoned library? Or what about the open field behind us? Last time I trusted strangers, they tried to kill me."

"You trusted me."

It was true. Joel had been nothing but a stranger to you. But for reasons you weren't sure why, you couldn't help but feel as if you could trust him.

He was such an ass, and at times you wanted to punch him in the face and leave but...you also needed him. You needed him like breathing. He made you feel safe, as if nothing bad could ever happen to you again.

With Joel, you were home.

"You just don't get it." You exhaled, walking back toward your sleeping bag.

Joel knew he should just drop it there, but he hated seeing you this way. It wasn't like you to shut down, and lately...you were doing that a lot.

"I'm just sayin, falling in love ain't all it's cracked up to be like your little books."

"No shit. I know it's not going to be like the books but still...there is some truth to them. But I'll never know...I never even had a first freakin kiss."

You stopped for a moment and turned to look at Joel.

He furrowed his brows for a moment, holding your gaze before the realization dawned on him. He shook his head immediately. "No. Don't even think about it."

"Come on!" You exclaimed, walking back to him. "It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or something!"

Joel shook his head once again and stood firm in his stance. "I said no. Keep me out ya weird fantasies."

"Please Joel? Just one kiss. That's all I'm asking for. Just one so I at least know what it feels like."

He tried to ignore you as he turned his back to you but you continued your pleading. The constant "please" in his ear. It was starting to frustrate him.

"If I do this for you, will you finally shut up?!" His voice was louder than usual.

You only nodded, holding his gaze with yours.

"I'm gonna regret this." He mumbled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought to himself for just a moment before letting out a groan and stomped over to you without any hesitation. Before you could react, his hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to tilt your head just before his lips pressed firmly against yours.

In that moment, your heart began to race. His lips were soft and warm, and tasted of his coffee. It didn't take you long to motion back.  His tongue danced along yours, forcing chills to cover you completely as his hands traced down to your waist, pulling you in closer.

Joel deepened the kiss, hot and urgent. As if he needed this to survive. He couldn't stop himself, and he didn't want to.

In this moment, it felt like all of the world had disappeared and it was only you and him.

The kiss was intoxicating. And suddenly your body grew hot. Every part of you wanted him. To feel more of him in places no one had ever touched except for you.

Joel was ready to lose himself to you in this moment. He knew it was wrong and he should stop but the longer you were against him, the more he craved you.

The urgency of the kiss was palpable, a relentless hunger that left you breathless.

His hands trailed up and down your body, feeling the thin fabric of your shirt clinging to your torso, wishing to feel your skin against his.

He could feel himself growing harder just by the thought alone. He wanted you. More than anything.

Joel didn't have time to think about what was right or wrong. He just knew in this moment, you were all he cared about.

In an instant, he lifted you off the ground and sat you on the bed of the truck. His lips never leaving yours.

Until you had accidentally knocked over the cup of coffee and the sound of the mug shattering on the ground, stopped you from continuing.

Joel quickly took a step back, wiping his mouth and catching his breath, as you sat there, heart beating fast in your chest. He turned his back to you, trying to collect his thoughts. For a moment, he almost let himself go. He almost caved and gave in to you.

You didn't even know what to think. And for the first time in your life, you had no words.

Things are far too complicated in this world. Joel wasn't someone who let anyone in. He knew giving someone that much power, it would destroy him if anything were to happen.

And he tried so damn hard to keep from feeling anything for you. If you had walked away after saving you that day, he wouldn't have thought twice about you. But now?

You were all he could ever think about. Every morning, he'd flash a soft smile seeing you already awake...reading a book like always with coffee ready. Every night, he felt a little more at ease having you there. Even when he didn't show it, he was slowly starting to fall for you.

And it scared him. More than anything. You were the right person, but it was the wrong time.

He couldn't promise to love you the way you deserved. To be the man that you hoped he would be. For so long, Joel was someone people feared. He never hesitated to do what he had to in order to survive.

So how could a girl like you ever love a man like him?

"Joel...s-say something." You stammered, nervously picking at your nail.

He turned to meet your gaze and wanted nothing more than to kiss you again. To feel you against him. But he swallowed hard and straightened his stance.

"I held my end of the bargain...now it's your turn." He groaned, then stomped over to the fire and kicked dirt into it to put it out.

"But—"

"Don't." He said with a stern voice. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

"Joel—"

"I won't tell you again."

You didn't want to fight with him. So many different emotions washed over you, it was overwhelming. And all you wanted to do was sleep.

Maybe you shouldn't have asked him to kiss you. Because then you wouldn't be laying there wishing you could kiss him again. Maybe, you wouldn't have realized you were falling in love with him.

—————

Chapter two

[crybabycinna]

Makeup

Lin Beifong x fem reader

This was a request I got! Fem reader dresses Lin up and does her makeup all girly. I’m still working on the kuvira vs Lin one I’m trying to figure out what to do I kinda know what I want to do it’s probably gonna be a quick mini series but don’t think I forgot I’ve literally been moving 😭 well I’m moved into my house now but now I gotta put shit away and I’m trying to figure out where to put stuff and blah blah it’s a fucking mess anyways! On to the story!

I was looking around for Lin but I couldn’t find her till I heard groaning coming from a room. I sighed. I already knew what she was doing. I opened the door and saw Lin working out. “Linny really?” I asked and placed my hands on my hips. She was in her tank top lifting weights. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on but now is not the time! Lin sighed and put the weights down. I walked over to her and poked her chest. “We have to get ready. Now let’s get you in the shower.” I said then turned away from her and walked towards the door. I heard Lin coming behind me mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense to me. She’s being a baby. She promised Su she’d dress up for this party but not the way Lin normally does. No suit and tie for her and again I’d be lying if I said seeing Lin in a suit and tie didn’t do anything to me. Drove me up a wall. Lin has to wear a dress and makeup! I was tasked with finding her dress and makeup. Su was gonna do her hair.

We got to the room and Lin was still folding her arms. “Linny you promised Su.” I told her. “I know, I know. Let’s get this over with.” Lin grumbled as she sat down on the bed. “Ok let me show you the dress I picked for you.” I told her and went into the closet. I grabbed the dress and stepped out the closet to show Lin the dress. I held it up for her. “What do we think?” I asked her. I was holding up a long black dress. It was backless and it had light silver chains hanging on the back. The dress straps were basic. I didn't want to constrict her to the dress and plus I want her to show off her muscles! She works hard. She's gotta show em off. “I like it. You picked well.” Lin said. I looked at her and she was nodding her head in approval. I smiled. “Yay!” I squealed. She playfully rolls her eyes. “Now go shower, I'll wait.” I told her. Lin nodded then went into the bathroom.

I laid the dress down gently then set up the vanity. I made sure I had everything for Lin. After a while Lin came out in a robe and I smiled. “Did you wash your face?” I asked her. She shook her head. “Let’s wash your face then moisturize.” I told her and dragged her back into the bathroom. Lin nodded and I let her use my face wash. After she washed her face I pat dried her face then I let her use your fancy moisturizer as she likes to call it. Once that was done I took her to the vanity and I sat her down so I could do her makeup. I primed her face, used concealer, and skin tint because it’s a bit lighter and her face doesn’t need a lot of coverage. I didn’t bother to contour because she’s already got good bone structure so just a bit of bronzer to bring color to her face. Once that was done I did light blush. I didn’t want to add too much to her face like I do myself.

When I finished it was time to do eyeliner. I was trying to figure out how to find a good position to do her eyeliner. “Fuck, ok I’m gonna have to get up and personal.” I told her and sat on her lap. Lin opened her eyes and looked at me. “I’m sorry I gotta get this eyeliner done.” I said. Lin nodded then relaxed and pulled me closer to her. “Thank you for cooperating.” I said and started to do her eyeliner. I did a simple small wing, nothing crazy and I did my best to copy the same wing on her right eye. I closed the eyeliner pen then put it down and cupped Lin’s face and looked at her. Turning her face from side to side to make sure the eyeliner looked good.

Lin opened her eyes. “Close your eyes.” I told her. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Ok I think it looks good.” I said. “Can I look at myself now?” Lin asked. “No! I’m not done yet jeez.” I said. She groaned. “Be patient.” I told her. Lin sighed and patted my thighs. I laughed. I turned to grab my eye shadow palette and brushes. It was a basic brown palette. Just to bring a little warmth to her eyes after I finished I grabbed my lash tray and glue. I put glue on the left lash then let it dry a bit. Once it was semi dry I put the left lash on her left eye. It was a simple lash, nothing dramatic but it would work really well with her eyes. I did the same to the right lash then cupped Lin’s face and turned it from side to side. “Looking good.” I mumbled. I then grabbed my setting spray.

“Keep ya eyes and mouth close.” I told her. Lin nodded and then I sprayed her face with setting spray. Once I was done Lin coughed. “Is that fucking hair spray?” Lin asked. “Probably but it keeps your makeup together.” I said. Lin sighed. I looked at her face again then smiled. “Perfect.” I said. I grabbed a little mirror and gave it to Lin. She looked at herself. “Hmm pretty good.” Lin said and nodded her head. “You like it?” I asked. “I do but I know I won’t be as pretty as you.” Lin said, stroking my cheek. The door opened. “Hey…am I interrupting something?” Su asked. “Oh no. I just finished up her makeup. She’s all yours.” I told Su and got up from Lin’s lap. Su nodded and I left the room to go to mine. My heart was racing. I got to my room and started getting ready. I did my makeup then got dressed. By the time I finished I heard a knock at my door.

“Come in.” I said. My door opened and it was Lin. “Oh Lin! You look beautiful.” I said and walked over to her. “Thank you but I will never do this again.” Lin said. “Oh come on! You look stunning.” I said. “I do but this isn’t my style and you know it.” Lin said. “I know but you look so pretty.” I said. “You look beautiful.” Lin said. “Thank you.” I said. “Let’s get this party over with.” Lin said and held out her hand to me. I took her hand and my heart melted. I let her lead me into the party. Mako and Bolin were shocked to see Lin all dressed up. “Wow Chief!” Bolin exclaimed. “You look great, Chief.” Mako said. “Thank you.” Lin said. As the night went on Lin and I drank and danced the night away. I was having the best night of my life with her. The party was still going but Lin and I decided we were over it and went back to her room making out.

When we got into her room she locked the door and tossed me onto the bed. Lin started taking off her dress and I sat up to take off my dress. Lin climbed on top of me and we went back to making out. “You know since you’re so pretty and feminine you wanna try without the strap?” I teasingly asked. “No.” She said. “Fine. We do it your way.” I said. “That’s right.” Lin said and smirked.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Pyaar Dosti Hai

Benny DeMarco x Ruthvika Patel (OFC)

Ruthie Patel runs into a certain furry member of the 100th Bomb Group— and his owner— on her way to celebrate her friend Juliet’s engagement to John Brady. The gang quickly welcomes her into their found family, but there could be something more between her and Benny DeMarco— if either of them ever finds the courage to make a move.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: implied racism (being a brown girl in 1940s New York… oof), mentions of strict parenting, I think that’s it? Please let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: the final member of the Book Club Girlies is here! Writing our little girl gang with @winniemaywebber and @ginabaker1666 has been so much fun, I can’t wait for y’all to see more of our darling girls! And a huge thank you to @hephaestn for the gorgeous moodboard!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Masterlist

Ruthvika Patel— Ruthie to her friends (and to, well… pretty much everyone outside of her small immigrant community)— rummages in her purse for the scrap of paper she had been referencing the whole way to the city. It was the address of the restaurant her old school friend had given her, where she was hosting a small get together with her and her fiancé’s friends, and had insisted that Ruthie come along.

“Are you sure, Jules?” She’d said over the phone, glancing over her shoulder for any sign of her mother— Ranjan Patel would be livid if she knew her daughter was using their hotel phone for a personal call, “I won’t really know any of them, I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

“Absolutely, Ruthie!” Her friend’s bubbly voice insisted, “You’re one of my best friends, I want you to meet Johnny. And it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other. Please? Jean and Jo will be there, we had so much fun with them last time, didn’t we?”

Ruthie could practically hear her batting her lashes pleadingly, and her resolve crumbled.

“Alright,” she relented, reaching for a pen and paper, “What’s the address?”

The Patels ran a hotel just on the outskirts of New York City, but that didn’t mean Ruthie was in any way prepared for being in the heart of it. Glancing from the street to the paper in her hands, and doing her best to ignore the stares of passers by— her mother always said she was lucky to get her father’s lighter tea-with-milk complexion, rather than her mother’s darker tones, but that didn’t mean she didn’t stand out in a crowd— she tries to get her bearings, but her efforts prove futile. She was utterly lost.

She doesn’t have long to mourn her circumstances, though, before a large mass of fur barrels into her legs.

Benny DeMarco grins as he strolls through the streets of New York, Meatball trotting happily by his side.

“You excited to see everyone, buddy?” He asks, the husky barking happily in response before returning to sniffing the air in earnest.

He’d been glad to get the invitation from Brady & his fiancée for a get together to celebrate their engagement, and he was looking forward to seeing his friends again. It had been a while since he’d seen anyone from Thorpe Abbotts, but last he’d heard, Olive and Dougie were still together and very happy, and he was happy for them.

Meatball tugs at the leash, straining to chase after all these new sights and smells.

“Hang on, buddy, we’ve still got a few blocks to go—“

Meatball pays no heed to Benny’s words, and soon the leash is tugged out of his grip entirely.

“Meatball! Get back here!”

He weaves through the crowded streets, chasing after the husky who’s getting farther and farther away. Eventually he loses sight of him completely and has no choice but to just keep running, hoping that his dog runs out of energy before he does.

Benny slows, gasping, as Meatball comes into view, sniffing eagerly at the feet of what Benny can’t help but notice is a very pretty girl.

“There you are, bud.”

“Oh!” The girl looks up from petting his dog with a sheepish smile, “Is he yours?”

“He is,” he laughs, noting her slight accent accompanying her rich brown skin and lush black waves, “Meatball’s first time in the city, he got a little excited.”

“Well, Meatball,” she grins, giving him one last pet before he returns to Benny’s side, “We have that in common. Is it yours as well? First time in the city, I mean.”

“Yes, sort of. I’m from Philly, but I’ve got a few friends who live here and I feel like I’ve been here already just from hearing them talk about it,” He laughs.

“Oh, I see,” the girl nods politely, seeming to wilt the tiniest bit before gathering herself, “Well, I hate to bother you, but…”

The girl seems to turn shy for a moment, fiddling with the scrap of paper in her hand, “Would you happen to know where to find—?” She says the name of the very restaurant he’s on his way to— “I’m a little lost.”

“Lucky for you,” he grins, “I’m on my way there now. I’d be happy to walk with you.”

“Thank you so much,” she says earnestly, falling into step beside him, “My friend’s waiting for me and I cannot be late.”

“Oh? What’s the occasion?”

“She’s having a small party to celebrate her engagement, and I promised I’d be here to meet her fiancé.”

It’s too much to be a coincidence.

“Your friend’s fiancé wouldn’t happen to be named John Brady…?”

“I— yes!” She blinks, surprised, “You know him?”

“I’m on my way to that same party,” he grins, “Brady and I served together. Bernard DeMarco,” he holds out his hand, “But everyone calls me Benny.”

She shakes his hand, “Ruthie Patel.”

“Ruthie?”

He tries not to sound too surprised, but a name like Ruthie doesn’t exactly match up with what he had imagined…

“Well, it’s actually Ruthvika, but Ruthie’s easier for everyone, so—”

“Ruthvika?” He tests out the syllables, hoping he isn’t butchering them too badly, “That’s very pretty. You really prefer Ruthie?”

She flushes, and he backtracks quickly, hoping he didn’t overstep. He just met this girl, what was he thinking?

“Not that Ruthie’s not very pretty too! It’s just… if I had a name like that I’d want everyone to use it.”

“It’s not exactly a matter of preference,” Ruthie says shyly, reaching up to fiddle with the thin gold necklace resting between her collarbones, “But most people don’t want to bother trying to pronounce something like Ruthvika, so I went by Ruthie in school, and it just… stuck. Helped me assimilate.”

“Well,” he says, “You deserve to have your name pronounced correctly. Especially one as pretty as yours, Ruthvika.”

She does her best to smother her grin at his attempt at her full name, helping him with the pronunciation as they approach their destination.

“Ah, we’re here,” Benny says, beaming at his last nearly-flawless attempt at her name.

“I never would’ve found my way here on my own,” Ruthie admits with a laugh, “Thank you very much, Benny.”

“Ah, it was nothing,” he shrugs, “It’s really Meatball we should be thanking, otherwise I never would’ve run into you. Good thing he has excellent taste,” He can’t help adding with a wink, if only to see that pretty rose flush cover her cheeks again. “Shall we?”

Ruthie follows her new friend and his dog into the restaurant, scanning the room until she spots her friend seated at a secluded table on the back patio, along with several other people.

There’s some whispering around the room, and she can feel eyes on her as she makes her way out the back, but she does her best to ignore it and plasters a smile on her face just in time for Jules to meet her gaze.

“Ruthie!” She all but squeals, standing to pull her into a hug, “I’m so glad you could make it, it’s been too long. You look wonderful!”

“It’s so good to see you, Jules,” she beams, squeezing her friend tight.

Juliet steps back, seemingly taking in her friend, before turning to the table and beckoning over the man in the chair next to the one she had just left.

“Johnny,” Juliet grins, green eyes sparkling as he moves to stand next to her, hand resting easily on her waist, “this is Ruthie, my friend from school. Ruthie, this is John, my fiancé.”

Ruthie could practically see the little thrill that went through her friend at that last word, and her smile widens.

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” John smiles, blue eyes crinkling as he reaches out for a handshake, “Jules here hasn’t stopped talking about how excited she was to see you.”

“She’s told me so much about you, it’s very nice to finally meet you as well.”

“Come on, let me introduce you to everyone!”

Jules guides her over to the other people sitting at the table, as Ruthie is reintroduced to Jean & Jo — their day at Coney Island and the sleepover at Jo & Jean’s apartment wasn’t an experience she was likely to forget anytime soon — and introduced in quick succession to Val DiRosano, Olive Lewis, and the men settled next to them: Harry Crosby, Rosie Rosenthal, Everett Blakely, and James Douglass (who insisted she call him Dougie, “everyone does”).

“How do you all kn—?”

Ruthie is in the middle of asking what their connection is to Jules when the relative quiet on the patio is broken by a chorus of “DEMARCO!” from the gentlemen in their group, a shout that has Ruthie nearly jumping out of her skin.

“Egan does that to me one time—” Benny grumbles good-naturedly as he pulls Brady in for a hug, reaching out for handshakes from Croz, Rosie, Blakely, and Douglass.

“A running joke from during the war,” Benny leans over to explain with a smile upon seeing the confused expression on Ruthie’s face as everyone settles into their seats.

“Ruthie, how do you know Benny?” Olive asks as she leans down to pet Meatball, calming the husky’s whines for attention.

“Oh! Well… I don’t, really? We just met—”

“Oh I’m sorry!” The Brit says hurriedly, “I just saw the two of you come in together, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s fine!” Ruthie assures her quickly, “Completely understandable—”

“That troublemaker’s the reason we met,” Benny interjects, putting a stop to the cycle of nervous politeness as he nods to Meatball, “I guess he got a little excited being in the big city, because he bolted away from me on our way here. Ended up chasing him for I don’t even know how many blocks until I found him with Ruthie here.”

Ruthie misses the knowing smile playing on Olive’s lips as she continues the story.

“I was trying to find the restaurant and was… completely lost,” she admits with a slightly embarrassed smile, “But luckily Benny here offered to walk with me.”

“Ever the gentleman,” Olive grins, with a teasing smile directed at the man himself, “Well I’m glad you made it. Jules has told us nothing but wonderful things.”

“I was so excited she invited me,” Ruthie smiles, “My parents’ hotel has been so busy, I’ve hardly gotten a second to breathe. And I was looking forward to meeting all of you.” Her smile turns soft, one meant just for Olive, “I know your letters to her were a great comfort, and I wanted to thank you for that.”

“I’m glad,” Olive says, “I was grateful to her as well for indulging me with that first letter, and now—” she gestures around the table at the girls, then towards the bar where the boys have migrated, “— what a friendship it’s turned into.”

“So Ruthie,” her attention is pulled towards Val, sitting across the table, “tell us about yourself! You said something about a hotel?” Val asks, innocent curiosity on her face.

“Oh, yes!”

She can’t help falling into her please-help-my-parents-stay-in-business persona, the one she usually reserves for her time at the hotel.

“My parents own a little hotel just outside the city— perfect for if you want a bit of quiet after a night out on the town or a day of sightseeing— and I’ve helped them run it since I was a little girl.”

She can’t quite hide a smile at the fond memories of helping carry meals up to rooms, helping change sheets between guests— her parents were right in assuming that her youth would earn her a few extra sympathy tips, and every little bit helped— and as she got older, she progressed to helping check guests in and out on top of all that, making sure everything was running smoothly for her aging parents.

At the rest of the girls’ insistence, she tells story after story of growing up in the hotel, Juliet chiming in with a story or two of her own from their school days— “That scratch behind the front desk is still there, by the way.” “No!”— and soon they’re all laughing and chatting like old friends, occasionally bending down to indulge Meatball with a pet when his whining becomes insistent enough.

Ruthie finds herself relaxing as the chatter envelops her, a smile stretching wide across her face and growing each time her eyes are drawn towards Benny leaning up against the bar with the boys. Her gaze repeatedly flicks back to the table before he can catch her staring, though apparently she hasn't been as subtle as she thinks when Olive leans in to whisper, “he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Heat rushes to Ruthie’s cheeks.

“Oh— your fiancé?” Her eyes flick to the man next to Benny as she attempts to recall his name from the fairly rushed introductions, “Dougie, right? Yes, he is very handsome, you did well,” she makes an attempt at teasing her new friend.

“Oh, I know,” Olive grins, then clarifies, “But I was talking about Benny! I noticed you looking over at him and, well… you should know he’s an absolutely wonderful fella, such a gentleman. I could put in a good word for you if you want,” she adds with a friendly wink.

“I— no, no, that’s not necessary,” Ruthie scrambles to say as her cheeks heat even more, “I wasn’t— he was just nice to me,and I appreciated it, that’s all. But… you seem to know him very well,” she nods with a laugh to Meatball sitting comfortably at Olive’s feet, his head resting in her lap, “if his dog is any indication. Did you two meet during the war?”

“We did,” Olive smiles, “I was with the Red Cross on base, he was one of the first people I met there…”

As Olive tells the tale of her and Benny— strictly a friendship and nothing more, she assures her new friend— Ruthie notes out of the corner of her eye Val heading over to the bar.

“Benny,” Val nods in greeting as she squeezes between the boys to reach the bar, ordering another French 75.

“Val,” he smiles, “Sorry for stealing your man away.”

“I’ll live,” she says, catching Ev’s eye from where he’s chatting with Dougie to shoot him a wink and a red-lipped smile before turning her attention back to DeMarco and switching seamlessly into Italian.

“Ask her out, Benny.”

Benny blinks, quickly translating in his head before replying in the same.

“Ask who out? Olive’s already engaged, Val.”

“Don’t make me smack you, just because the war is over DeMarco…”

An arched eyebrow is all he needs to know that his glances over at Ruthvika weren’t as subtle as he’d hoped.

“…how did you know?”

“Um, because you’ve been staring at her all evening and I can tell you’ve barely listened to a word Croz has said.”

“To be fair, Croz is going on about some jazz record and only Rosie is listening at this point.” Benny laughs, glancing over to where Croz is conversing animatedly with a captivated Rosie Rosenthal, John Brady only half-listening next to them with his eyes fixed on his fiancée.

“Then, bring Ruthie a drink and maybe talk to her?” She flicks her gaze over to Ruthie, prompting Benny to glance over at her too, and he can’t help the smile that stretches across his face seeing her laughing with Olive.

“See?” Val says, gesturing to him, her eyes almost accusatory, “You’ve been looking at her like that all night and you expect me not to notice. Talk to her, Benny.”

With a final friendly nudge, she wanders back to the table, glass in hand.

Ruthie nods politely as Olive’s story winds down, her attention now captured by Val and Benny together at the bar, leaning into each other as they speak a language that, as far as she can tell, is definitely not English.

“And… I don’t mean to pry, but are Val and Benny close as well?”

“Hm?” Olive follows her gaze to the bar, “Oh, in a way.”

On Ruthie’s other side, Jean Crosby turns from her conversation with Jo, frowning slightly as she registers Val’s empty chair and her current place at the bar.

“Oh darn, I was hoping I could ask Val for a refill while she was over there,” she says, ice tinkling in her now empty rum and cola, brow furrowing as their voices reach the table, “Are she and Benny doing that thing where they speak Italian so none of us can understand them again? It’s a beautiful language, I’ll grant her that, but I can’t handle anything other than English after a few of these.”

At Ruthie’s somehow even more confused expression, Olive jumps in to explain.

“Val and Benny became good friends when we were on base, both being Italian and whatnot. I guess he was like a bit of home for her, giving her a chance to stretch her legs with her Italian, and I’ll admit it was very fun trying to figure out what they were saying at times,” the Brit adds with a laugh.

“Oh yes honey, they’re just friends, never been anything more” Jean adds from her place on Ruthie’s right with a knowing smile, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. We're all just one big happy family, aren’t we?”

A flush of embarrassment races through Ruthie at the knowledge that her attraction really wasn’t as subtle as she’d thought, but her smile grows at the tender way Jean refers to the group as a family. Given her own experience with family was largely with strict uncles and aunties, even stricter parents, and cousins competing ruthlessly for praise from the adults, the idea of a friendship of the kind she had seen Jo, Jean, and Juliet share becoming a kind of chosen family sent a warm thrill of happiness radiating from her heart.

“Family,” she murmurs, “That sounds wonderful.”

Jean lays a gentle hand on Ruthie’s arm, kind eyes sparkling, “And you’re one of us now, Vika sweetheart. Family whether you like it or not.”

Ruthie blinks back sudden tears at the use of the name she’d told the girls she preferred at their sleepover all those months ago. The young cousins who used to call her that had switched to Ruthie when they started school, along with using their own Americanized names at home, and it was so nice to hear even just a part of her true name from someone other than her mother.

Jean’s words echoed through Ruthie’s head. Family. One of us.

She could get used to that.

“Oh dear… I’m sorry, honey, did I say something wrong?” Jean fusses, seeing Ruthie’s watery eyes.

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine,” she assures her, brushing away her tears, “I just… you’re all so nice,” she laughs, unsure of how else to explain the overwhelming joy and disbelief welling up inside her.

“Just wait ‘til you see Val before she’s had her coffee, chicken,” Olive says lightheartedly, bumping Ruthie’s shoulder playfully, “You won’t think we’re all so nice then.”

“Vika’s seen what Jo and I are like in the mornings, Ol,” Jean replies with a laugh, “I’d say she’s ready for anything after that.”

“I think your infamous martinis had more of a hand in that than the early morning, Jean.”

Feeling bold, Ruthie takes a shot of her own at her new friend, much to the table’s delight.

“There she is!”

“Alright, Ruthie!”

“Oh goodness, what did I miss?” Val grins as she returns to the table, a fresh French 75 clutched in her perfectly manicured hand.

“Just Vika teasing me about my martinis,” Jean says, flashing Ruthie a grin.

“Vika?” Val looks momentarily confused.

“A nickname from when I was younger,” Ruthie explains, “But of course Ruthie’s fine as well if that’s easier—”

“Nonsense!” Val waves away Ruthie’s anxious rambling, “Vika’s a gorgeous name, I love it.”

Ruthie’s shoulders relax at Val’s smile and the compliment.

“So, we were talking martinis?” Val says, moving the conversation along, “Is now a good time to bring up the lasagna story?”

A chorus of good-natured groans tells Ruthie that this isn’t the first time Val has brought this up, and whatever it is, it’s sure to be amusing.

Val leans in with a grin, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“So, the first time Jean made me one of her martinis…”

The group, some a little tipsier than others, decide to call it a night as the bright sunshine warming the patio begins to fade to the red-gold of sunset. With plenty of hugs and several exchanges of addresses with Ruthie, most of the couples depart, leaving Benny and Ruthie with John and Juliet at the table, Meatball curled contently at their feet.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride, Ruthie?” Juliet asks, “I don’t love the idea of you taking the subway alone.”

“I'll be fine, Jules, I promise,” she assures her friend, tamping down the anxiety spiking in her chest at the thought of being alone on a dark subway platform. She made it here on her own, she can surely make it back.

“I’d be happy to go with you,” Benny says, leaning down to pet a whining Meatball, “I know this guy could use some adventure before being cooped up on a train tomorrow.”

“Well…” she pretends to think about it for a moment, then nods. “If it’s for Meatball’s sake, then yes,” adding sincerely, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Benny grins.

They say their goodbyes and depart, Ruthie glancing back to catch a glimpse of John pulling her friend into a tender kiss.

It takes them a moment to get their bearings in the fading light, but with Benny’s help, Ruthie manages to guide them onto the subway for the hour-long commute to her little town of Lynbrook.

“So,” Benny says from his place beside her as he pets a snoozing Meatball, the excitement of the day having worn out the playful husky, “Have you… always lived here?”

Ruthie’s heard this question enough times to know what he’s really asking.

“I was born here, yes. In Harlem, actually, not too long after my parents came over from India,” A smile crosses her face at the fuzzy memories of playing with the neighbor children in their tiny, run-down apartment building, of visiting her uncle’s jewelry shop and begging to try on some of the cheap costume jewelry he sold alongside the much more valuable items.

She continues, “My parents moved out to Lynbrook to start their hotel when I was five, and we’ve been there ever since.”

“You like it there, don’t you.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but she answered anyway.

“I do,” she smiles, “Don’t tell Jo and Jean this, but I like being a little removed from the hustle and bustle of the big city, getting to choose when to be part of all the excitement instead of having it all around me all the time. And my parents love the hotel— love having something they own, love being their own bosses, so to speak. And I love getting to help them live their dream.”

A warmth blooms in Benny’s chest seeing the tender look in Ruthie’s eyes when she talks about her parents. It’s clear to him how much she cares about her family, how close she is to them, and he feels extremely lucky to see that softness in her come to the surface.

A question floats to the front of his mind that… well, he’s not sure if it’s too personal, but he’s had a few drinks and his filter isn’t quite where it should be tonight.

“Do your parents call you Ruthie too?”

“Sometimes,” Ruthie replies, seemingly unfazed by the way Benny blurted out his question, “They usually stick to Ruthvika, though. My little cousins used to call me Vika, but when they started school they switched to their own Americanized names and started calling me Ruthie.”

“Vika…” Benny hums, testing the pronunciation, “I think I heard some of the girls calling you that tonight. Is that a favorite nickname of yours?”

“I don’t really have a favorite,” Ruthie lies. Ever agreeable, ever flexible Ruthie. Her parents had trained her to keep most of her opinions to herself, especially with men, to be seen and not heard, and that training was coming in handy now.

Benny sees right through it.

“Are you sure?” He asks sincerely, “It’s your name, you can have a preference.”

His warm brown eyes meet her own, fingers brushing ever so slightly in the space between them.

The courage she’d managed to reach for during her conversations with the girls seems a bit farther away now, but she manages to summon a scrap of it to say, “I do love being called Vika.”

She meets Benny’s gaze with a small smile, but can’t help adding: “But I’m also fine with Ruthie— it’s easier for people to pronounce.”

The corner of Benny’s mouth quirks up into a smile.

“We’ll work on that. Vika’s a very pretty name.”

He resists adding for a very pretty girl. Now isn’t the time to be trying out lines, no matter how true the sentiment is.

Ruthie— Vika— ducks her chin to hide her smile, changing the subject quickly.

“Has Meatball always been yours?” She asks, smiling down at the sleeping husky at her feet.

“Feels like it,” Benny grins, “Won him at craps during the war.”

His smile grows at Ruthie’s raised eyebrows, and he continues.

“We stopped in Greenland on our way over to refuel, I ended up taking this troublemaker with me to base on our way out. Sorta became our official mascot.”

“You didn’t— he didn’t come up in the plane with you, did he?”

“Only on that first flight to base,” he replies, wanting to soothe away the slight hint of alarm in her voice, “He stayed with Olive and Val and the rest of the Clubmobile girls when I went up. Got a thousand complaints about fur in the donuts, but come on, imagine staying mad at a sweet boy like him.”

Vika laughs, “He does have a way of winning people over.”

Their banter continues for the rest of the ride, so engrossed in each other that the time speeds by and the pair have to scramble to make it off the train at Ruthie’s stop. They hail a taxi to get to the hotel, at which point Benny asks:

“There wouldn’t happen to be any available rooms at your parent’s hotel tonight, would there?”

“I… believe there are. Why?”

Benny gestures to the suitcase he’s been carrying all day, the one Ruthie had wholly forgotten about, “My train doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, and I don’t exactly plan on sleeping under the stars tonight. Not that I have anything against that, but,” he shrugs, “what can I say? I like my creature comforts. This will be much more convenient than going back and trying to find someplace to stay in the city, and besides,” he flashes Vika a teasing grin, “I’ve gotta see what all the fuss is about.”

The taxi pulls up to a modest two-story hotel, the words Forest Inn lettered in vibrant red above the doorway. Ruthie finds herself suddenly nervous as they pay the fare— or rather, Benny does, despite Ruthie’s protests— and exit the car, scanning over Benny’s face as subtly as she can as he takes in the building.

“It’s nothing fancy,” she rambles as she leads Benny and Meatball to the front doors, “But my parents have put so much work into it and, well… it’s home.”

The group steps into a small lobby, and something in Ruthie relaxes at the familiarity of the polished wood floors, rich burgundy wallpaper, the lamps along the walls washing everything in a golden glow, the soft red carpet leading to the dark wood front desk where—

“Mammi?”

Standing at the front desk, Ranjan Patel looks up from the ledger she’s writing in, a tired smile crossing her face when she sees her daughter.

“Welcome home, beta. Did you have a good time with Juliet? How is she? Is her fiancé nice?”

“It was fine, she’s good, I—“ Ruthie blinks, “Mammi, I thought Pravi Auntie was going to take over for you at 6–“

Mrs. Patel waves away her daughter’s concern, “One of her little ones took ill, I told her to look after her daughter. I don’t mind staying here.”

Ruthie lets out an exasperated sigh, but it’s clear her annoyance stems from concern for her mother.

“You were up at the crack of dawn today, Mammi, you need rest,” She steps behind the desk to usher her mother out of the way, “Please? I’ll take over until Ronny Uncle comes in for the night shift.”

Ruthie’s mother sighs, relenting, then straightens when her gaze catches Benny standing in the middle of the room.

“Alright, beta, just let me get this gentleman checked in—”

“No, Mammi, I’ve got it,” Ruthie says hurriedly, waving Benny over, “This is one of Juliet’s friends, he was kind enough to give me an escort home and needed a place to stay before he leaves town tomorrow. I told him I could get it all taken care of. Benny, this is my mother.” She introduces anxiously.

“Bernard DeMarco, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Benny greets with a beaming smile, “Your daughter’s told me nothing but wonderful things about your hotel.”

“Very nice to meet you, sir,” Mrs. Patel says with a tight smile, glancing with a slight frown down at Meatball, before putting on her customer service mask once more, “I hope you enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Introductions finished, she turns back to Ruthie, “Ronny Uncle should be here at 10, Ruthvika, but I can send over your father if you want him with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Mammi,” she waves her away gently, “Good night.”

“Shubh ratri, beta.”

With that, her mother slips out the side door towards their apartment in the building next door.

“Sorry about that,” Vika says with an embarrassed laugh, “She’s always working too hard.”

“No, I understand,” Benny says with a soft smile, “Mothers never think they’re doing enough, even when they’re going above and beyond.”

A quiet moment passed between them, interrupted by a whine from Meatball— the husky’s apparently eager to get to bed.

“Oh, your room!” Ruthie starts, “Sorry about that…” She reaches for a key with one hand as she begins filling out paperwork with the other.

“You’ll be in room 213,” she beams, turning the paper towards him for him to sign as she holds out the key.

Benny’s brow furrows as he notes the price stated on the paper— it’s much lower than the rate they have posted on the signage.

“Hang on, uh— Vika, I’m not much of a math whiz, but this seems—”

“Consider it a friends and family discount,” she says, waving away his concern, and the look in her eyes brooks no room for argument.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely once she’s noted it in the ledger, concern sparking in his mind as he notes the darkness outside and shy, sweet Vika manning the desk. “You’ll be alright out here until your uncle comes?” He asks, recalling her conversation with her mother.

“My uncle?” Her brow furrows, then her expression clears as she understands, “Oh, Ronny isn’t really my uncle, he’s my neighbor,” she explains with a laugh, “It’s just a thing Indian people do, showing respect to our elders. We’re raised to refer to elders, even ones not related to us, as Uncle or Auntie as a sign of respect. But anyway,” she ducks her head down to hide her embarrassment— she must be more tired than she thought to be rambling like that— “Yes, I’ll be fine, Benny. Have a good night.”

“You too, Ruthvika.”

A wide smile stretches across her face as Benny leads Meatball towards the stairs.

His pronunciation of her name had been almost perfect.