#got a bike taxi for the last leg

[kingofthering]

Pecco/Marc | 1100 words | Friday night in Indonesia, set in this universe.

"This part is fine, if you need to hold onto me."

Pecco blinks his eyes open and focuses on the sound of Marc's voice. It takes him a second to realize that Marc is holding his wrist and placing Pecco's hand where he wants it on his upper arm.

Pecco can feel scarred tissue under his fingertips.

Marc drags his hand up higher, "Here, though," he grimaces. "Fine most of the time now but can be a bitch sometimes still."

Pecco blinks again, about 90% sure he didn't fall asleep but was merely lulled by the sound of the A/C and rested his eyes for only a couple of minutes.

He's also pretty convinced his arm was just lying by his side and not touching Marc, the last time he checked. His other arm is still hugging the pillow under his head. They're both still naked. Pecco could feel the stickiness against his abs where Marc's clean-up job hadn't been perfect.

"For the next time you need help getting back to the pits," Marc smiles. "I mean, I don't mind you holding onto my thigh but I think it gets a lot of people talking."

Pecco groans, closing his eyes and burying the side of his face harder against his pillow. He can hear Marc laugh, feel his arm shake under his hand.

"I did one more lap than I was supposed to," Pecco mumbles, half to the pillow and half to Marc.

"I know," Marc answers easily. "So you've said."

Pecco's ready to argue some more before he catches himself, aware that it's absolutely ridiculous and that Marc is still smiling at him, his hand still holding onto Pecco's wrist.

Pecco takes a deep breath and tries to center himself.

The thought of Marc misunderstanding him has always made Pecco uneasy, the concept worrying him at times.

He doesn't even think that they're good at communicating (Marc puts too many meanings in too little words and Pecco doesn't say enough words, keeps too much to himself) and he shouldn't even care, but— he might get sick if Marc ever calls him a liar or lend him intentions Pecco never had.

Pecco hears a distant vibration and a quick look to the black screen on the bedside table tells him that his phone is not at fault.

Marc gets up from the bed, walking a couple of steps until he can bow down and retrieve his phone from his shorts that got discarded there maybe an hour prior.

While Marc is busy looking at his screen, Pecco's eyes find the reddened skin on the side of his thighs, thin lines that would match with the length of Pecco's fingers.

It's not a deep imprint, it'll be gone by the time Marc fall asleep for the night. The image of it will live longer in Pecco's memory.

Today— today wasn't supposed to happen. Or so Pecco thought according to the unspoken rules they'd been working with ever since that first time Marc got so close into his space that Pecco's resolve could only crumble.

It's not like they ever explicitly said that Friday morning to Sunday afternoon, from the moment they got on their bike to the last time they dismounted it for the weekend, they were nothing more than rivals from the same grid. It was just the way things had always been between them.

Earlier that night, Marc had knocked on Pecco's door and some part of Pecco had reminded him that all Ducati riders had been put in the same hotel. It didn't do much to help his brain process the image of Marc strolling into Pecco's room like it was his own before sitting down at the bottom of the bed.

"Everyone keeps talking about that damn taxi ride and you haven't even thanked me for it," Marc had declared.

Pecco had rolled his eyes, his cheeks going warm.

The way Marc had spread his legs so deliberately while putting his palms against the bed cover behind his hips should have been too much. The tilt of his head, waiting, too extra.

The way Marc's smile started spreading the second Pecco's first knee hit the floor stirred something so hot in his stomach it made Pecco's flush go a deeper shade of red.

Marc's right hand stayed tangled in the curls at the base of his neck the whole time it took Pecco to get Marc off.

Once he was done, Marc barely used a second to breathe before hauling Pecco on the bed and taking care of him with his hand.

"I sure hope, as much for your sake than mine, that Ducati knows how to calculate fuel better than Yamaha."

Marc's dressed, his shirt going over his head as he finishes talking.

Pecco feels like he just zoned out. The lines on Marc's thighs are hidden behind his shorts, now.

Before they left for Indonesia, they had one last training session at the ranch and after dinner, Valentino had found Pecco and he'd told him to focus on the flyaways because now wasn't the moment to get distracted.

It had felt like a warning wrapped in a sent-off to war even if all the Academy was due back at the ranch during the gap between Motegi and Phillip Island.

If he focuses hard enough, Pecco can feel the phantom weight of Valentino's hand behind his neck, before he left him that night to go to bed.

"Catch."

Marc's on the other side of the room now, near Pecco's mini fridge. He might need to bless his basketball reflexes for catching the water bottle being thrown in his direction.

"To keep hydrating yourself, will make you sharper," Marc explains. There is something in Marc’s voice that Pecco can’t identify, can’t let him decide whether Marc is laughing at him or with him, truly. "I did say I wanted to share a box with a world champion, didn’t I?"

One last smile and Marc doesn’t give Pecco time to answer before he’s out of the door.

It might be for the best, to not let Pecco embarrass himself.

The water bottle is frozen cold and dripping condensation down his fingers.

Pecco feels like he’s burning up.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 3, chapter 4- worst trip of my life

Series masterlist

Warnings: alcohol mentioned, doctor prescribed opiates, wounds, blood mentioned, OLD bullet wound.

“Holy… John B!” You shouted, immediately standing up with your phone in your hand, shoving the text in his face.

He grabbed the phone, looking up at you. “Made it out? They made it off the island?”

“I’m guessing so, yeah. Oh my God.” You sighed in relief, sitting down next to them. “But that’s not any number that I recognize. So I’m guessing he just borrowed someone’s… so I can’t text it back.”

“We’ll find them, y/n.” Pope told you, watching your face slightly fall.

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”

You all got off the plane, you limping when you walked with them all. You sort of fell behind, but at this point it didn’t matter.

“Sarah!” Ward shouted from the plane, coming down the stairs. She turned, stopping in her tracks.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming.” He told her, everyone looking back at the two of them arguing.

“No, you’re not. You got us here like you said you would, now go to Guadeloupe.” She pointed to the door of the jet.

“You’re in over your head.”

“You need a doctor.” Shit, you did too, you remembered, looking down at your leg and back at the drama unfolding in front of you.

“Let me help, please.”

“No! Get back in the plane.” She said. “You promise you weren’t a part of this. No.”

“Okay.” Ward said, Sarah turned around and began to walk again, all of you following.

“Speaking of doctors, is there like any round here? Don’t know how much longer I can go around with a bullet in my leg.” You motioned to your leg.

“We’ll find you one.” John B said, remembering the words that JJ had told him before he left to go save Kie.

“Oh, If I don’t make it in time, find a doctor for my sister. That shits gonna get infected.” He turned around before hopping on the bike.

“Course.” John B replied.

All of you called a taxi, you stretched as you stepped out, Sarah helping you stand.

“Looks like it’s a local holiday.” Cleo spoke, you took in your surroundings. People had flags and fireworks, celebrating something clearly.

“Alright, so we gotta assume that Singh’s already gone upriver. We’re looking for a guy named Jose. He’s gonna take us to the dig site.”

“Does Jose have a last name or do you just not know it?” You asked John B, squinting at him.

“I don’t know it.

“Shit. It’s gonna be like trying to find a teardrop in the ocean.” Cleo said, looking around.

“Well, river guides probably hang out by the river.” Sarah said.

“Yeah, but if they’re like the guides back on the island, then they’re probably gettin’ hammered right about now.” You said with a laugh.

“So, let’s start with the bars.”

“Okay.”

“Divide and conquer?”

“Let’s do it.” You sighed. You went with John B and Sarah, and pope and Cleo went on their own.

“While I ask around, I’m asking for a hospital because as much as I would love to amputate my leg… I would rather not… get it infected, Y’Know?” You told them.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll ask around for one. JJ might kill me if I don’t.”

You laughed at John B’s words, tilting your head to the side. “He might.” You spoke, all three of you entering the bar and asking around.

You had found a good, reputable hospital from one of the locals, but still no Jose.

“Uh, I got a bunch of noes.” John B told Sarah, walking over to her.

“Me too.” You called out, walking over to the both of them, sipping a Margarita, standing in the middle of them, unbothered.

“Where the hell did y- nevermind. There’s not a single Jose who’s a panga driver in there. This is gonna be a lot harder than I thought.” John B sighed.

“Yeah, I know.”

You all turned to the voice of someone shouting , the window was wide open as a familiar man shouted out.

“You rat bastard! Bastards, you son of a bitch! I’ll chew your arms off, you jack off feeder fish.”

“Okay, there’s only one person on the entire planet who would say that.” You told Sarah and John B, turning back to face them. “It’s-“

“My dad.” He cut you off, turning to the window again.

A man came over, shutting the window.

“That’s one of Singhs men.” Sarah realized.

“That means they didn’t take him upriver, we can still save him.”

“So how do we get him out?” You asked, folding your arms and looking around, when you all turned at the sounds of fireworks. You sipped down your margarita, looking at them.

“Thinking what I’m thinking?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow with a small smile on your face.

“I think I am.”

“Fire in the fuckin’ hole, bitches!” You whisper yelled happily as the fireworks poured into the window, shooting at a man who came outside.

You all hid in the bushes, moving to get a ladder. John B hopped onto the ladder, you and Sarah grabbing it to stabilize it. He climbed up to the roof, when a gunshot came at him, just barely missing. He jumped off, Sarah running to him.

“You okay?” He asked her.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. That was my dad.”

They were cut off by glass shattering above them, a man falling out the window, creaking coming down from the ladder, like someone was climbing down it…

“Sarah. Sarah…” John B muttered.

Big John fell from the ladder, looking around before his eyes landed on the three of you.

“Well shit!” You exclaimed,

“Dad.” John B said, looking at him.

“Good to see you, kid.”

“Oh my God.”

“Hi.” Sarah said, smiling widely.

“Hi Sarah. Y/n.”

“Ryan!” Singh shouted from inside.

“Shit, hate to break up the reunion, but we gotta go. Come on.” You motioned for them to move, you following behind them, holding onto your leg as you tried to run.

“Go, go!” You told them, everyone running down the stairs. You winced and groaned out when you put more stress onto your leg, walking slower down the steps. Luckily, you guys had missed getting spotted.

You panted, trying to catch your breath. “Y/n..” Sarah noticed your slowness, turning to look at you, stopping her running.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Fuck!” You cried out, seeing blood seep through your pants again.

“Shit. It opened up.” Sarah told John B.

“We gotta go, grab her.”

They put their arms on each side of you, helping you walk with a cry and groan in each step.

“If I ever see Singh again, it’ll be too soon. Let’s collect our bearings. Just get the lay of the land.” Big John spoke quickly, you all finally stopping.

“Listen, think we’ll have enough time to make it to Solana for the solstice?” John B asked, you leaning your body onto his shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t get too cocky. I still can’t make out those glyphs.”

“I might have something that can help us. Listen…” he rummaged through his pockets. “this is from Pope, okay? All right? This is a family heirloom.”

“Pope?”

“Yes, pope.”

“Is he here?”

“Yes, pope is here.”

“Who the hell else is here?!”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? Listen to me. It’s like this thing, um…”

“Rosetta stone, you idiot!” You managed to croak out. “Can we please find a hospital?!” You exasperated.

“We’re gonna find you a hospital.” Sarah reassured.

“We gotta move, kids. We gotta get upriver. The moon waits for no man.”

You groaned out again, both Sarah and John B helping you walk.

“Alright, we’re gonna look for Jose, you go get that shit fixed. Once we find him, we’ll come back.” John B told you as a doctor laid you on a table, you groaning and nodding.

“You’re not gonna leave me?” You asked them, letting out a cry as the doctor poured something onto the wound.

“No. We’re not.” Sarah told you, shaking her head and smiling. “We’ll be back. Swear.”

You nodded, leaning your head against the chair and shutting your eyes, listening to the door shut.

The procedure was sloppy and quick. But for the amount of time you had, that was what you were gonna have to deal with. As long as it got the bullet out and it bandaged, you were okay.

They came running into the “hospital” which was actually more of a house with a few medical rooms. You thanked the doctor, paying him back in some money you had traded with a local for American dollars.

“Fuck. I’m so glad he gave me OxyContin.” sighed out, sitting down while John B talked to Jose, Sarah and Big John stood next to you.

“Your friend already paid for it. He’s waiting for you.”

“He as in?” John B asked Jose.

“Your friend. He’s waiting.”

John B’s face paled. He turned around, looking to see Ward coming off of the boat.

Your eyes widened and you gasped, your mouth agape. “Ohhhh shit. I’m fucked up right now. I gotta be.”

“Hey, sweetie.” Ward waved at Sarah, John B looked at Big John.

“I told you! Do you ever even listen?” Sarah scolded, walking towards her dad at the end of the dock.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Big John asked angrily, looking at his son.

“I don’t know, dad.” He answered honestly.

“You don’t know.”

“No, I don’t. No.”

“You don’t have a clue? The smallest idea?” Big John asked, walking over to Ward and Sarah, who were arguing amongst themselves, until Big John came up.

Big John paced towards him, Ward putting a hand out to try and stop him.

“You tried to kill me, you son of a bitch!” Big John grabbed Ward by the collar of his polo.

“You have every right to be upset!” Ward cried.

“I’m not upset. Who said I was upset?” His grip on Wards shirt tightened.

They both shouted over each other.

“Shit. Old man fight.” You shook your head, turning it with a quirked eyebrow when you heard a shout. John B heard it as well, both of you snapping your heads towards the noise.

“It’s Singh.” He told you, you looking up at him and nodding.

“What do we do?” Sarah came up to you both.

“Singh is here.” He said, you standing up now.

“Oh! Oh! Time to go. Time to go.” She mumbled, running over to both parents. Your eyes were wide as you followed, John B splitting them apart.

“Singh is in the market right now. Get in the damn boat. Go. Go! Get on the boat!” John B told his dad, who fell into the boat with you and Sarah.

“What about Pope and Cleo?” Sarah asked John B.

“And JJ and Kie?” You chimed in, remembering the text you had gotten earlier.

“They’ll figure it out.” John B spoke, but trailed off when he saw Ward jump into the boat.

“What are you doing?!” Sarah asked him.

“I’m going.”

“No!”

“Singhs dangerous. You’re in over your head.”

John B untied the rope, the boat starting to move. He jumped in next to you, you pushing your legs to your chest.

“Yo, this has gotta be the worst fucking trip I’ve ever had in my life.” You groaned out, leaning your head up and looking at the sky. Everyone ignored your comment, just glaring at each other.

You got off the boat, and onto a dock with people.

“Well, welcome to El Tesoro, Bird. We’ll hole up here for the night. Move out at first light.” Big John told his son, both of them walking with each other and talking.

You walked behind Sarah, a little doozy off the drugs the doctor had given you.

You sat down with Ward and Sarah, still staring up at the sky, not paying attention to either of them.

“Of course I know what it looks like, sweetheart, okay? But I’m not here for treasure. Not theirs, not anyone’s. What do I need gold for?” He chuckled, looking down at his bandaged leg and back up at Sarah. “You’re my gold.”

“And was I your gold… when you were strangling me?” She asked, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes.

“I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. Every minute of every day. Some good did come out of it though. I’ve changed, Sarah.”

She narrowed her eyes again, not convinced. You let out a giggle, and Ward snapped his eyes to you now, furrowing his eyebrows and looking at you in confusion.

“Doctor gave her OxyContin.” She simply said.

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover

(orange means I couldn’t tag)

[ryuyejiho]

"Will you be my girlfriend?" - Han

Pairing: Han Jisung X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: School

Summary: It was supposed to be the perfect date for a confession of feelings but something went wrong. However, that didn't stop Jisung from his plans

Word Count: ~1.1k

________________________________

There are exactly three minutes left until the end of the last lesson. It was already a few minutes before I packed up all my belongings to get out of the classroom as quickly as possible and run to the school exit.

My friend Jisung was even already sitting sideways to the bench to get off his chair evenly with the bell.

Which is exactly what he did at that moment.

He literally ran out of the classroom and I followed him trying to catch up. Behind me I could still hear the teacher's voice shouting that the lesson wasn't over yet, but I honestly didn't give a damn because a bell is a bell. Information about the end of the lesson.

When we ran outside the school grounds we only saw our only bus just leaving the bus stop. We were supposed to take the same bus an hour ago to a festival where our favorite singer was supposed to be. Since it was at the other end of town the bus there was only one and every two hours or so so so there was no chance we would make it.

"If it weren't for that stupid lesson we would have been there long ago" said an angry Jisung kicking a pebble that was lying by his leg.

"if we hadn't gone they would have lowered our grade" I replied being equally angry. They should have told us about such a lesson at least a week before and not an hour before.

"and what do we do now?"

"I don't know, maybe let's walk somewhere. We can go to the skatepark" the park was literally next to the school. There were always a million people riding there on bikes, rollerblades, scooters or skateboards like Jisung did.

I always admired him for his skills but whenever he wanted to teach me something I refused.

"okay then, let's go " he said and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care. I felt very sorry for him because I knew how much he wanted to go there and how much he cared about this concert.

"hey, don't be sad. If not now, then some other time" I ran up to him wanting to catch up with him and put my arm around his shoulder.

"you know how I cared. It was supposed to be a perfect evening and as always something had to go wrong" he said overwhelmed, resting his head on mine.

"I know, but we can't do anything anymore. We can't afford a taxi all the way there, the bus got away from us. We can go there by bicycles if you want" I said with false enthusiasm at which the boy looked at me like I was crazy.

"do you want to bike 35 kilometers to the concert and then ride back the other 35 kilometers while drunk? I doubt it" we sat down on a wall at the entrance to the park and thought about what we should do next.

Not even five minutes passed as Jisung suddenly jumped down happily from the wall and looked at me. We looked at each other for a long moment, me at him like he was crazy and him at me as if he had just won a million at least.

"get up! Let's go to my place! We don't have anything to do anyway so we can go get ramen at my place or something" he made a perverted face at which we laughed and I carefully jumped off the wall.

****

We went into his room where the boy immediately went to the bed and threw all the pillows he had on the floor. I sat down at his desk wondering what was going on in his head sometimes and he went out to the kitchen and brought two chairs with him. He ran again and brought two more which he set at equal intervals to the previous ones so that together they formed a square. On their backs he put his big quilt which was probably to serve as the roof of this contraption, on the floor between the chairs he arranged a blanket and inside he threw all the pillows he had. He walked over to the desk and took his laptop from it, disconnecting it from the charger before.

Satisfied, he placed the laptop deep in that structure and quickly walked back to the kitchen singing some unfamiliar song under his breath. I started laughing at him when I heard the banging of two glass things and after a while a bunch of curses. After a while he came back with two bowls and two glasses which he placed on the floor next to the chairs. Then he looked at me and with theatrical gestures invited me inside.

Happy, I went inside and sat down between the pillows. Jisung threw another blanket inside and came in, sitting down next to me. He smiled at me and covered us with the blanket, earlier pulling the laptop and bowls closer, one with popcorn mixed with chips and the other with fruit. On the laptop he turned on Netflix on which he searched for one of our favorite anime.

"may this evening be as romantic as if we were at a concert" he said looking deeply into my eyes and smiling. At his words I just nodded my head and snuggled into his side.

In the course of watching the already fourth romantic movie, we cried about ten times. We lay cuddled up to each other and tried to calm our emotions while the movie's credits were already flying in the background.

"are you all right?" he asked in a deep voice from crying to which I nodded and raised my head to look at him.

"why do you choose such movies? Because of you, I've already used up my tear limit for the whole next month" the blond man laughed softly and gets up leaning on his elbows.

"that's good. I don't like it when you cry" he smiled broadly but after a while he got quite serious. Strangely enough when I just happened to lick my lips dry from the salt on the chips.

"why such a face?"

"I have something for you" he suddenly said and walked out of our shelter. I heard him walk over to the hanger where we hung our hoodies when we came in and after a while he came back to sit next to me. I looked curiously at the medium-sized box he held in his hands.

"what is this?" I asked, seeing how his hands had begun to shake and how he was getting stressed.

"I wanted to give it to you after the concert well, but.... I'm giving it to you now" he put the box in my hands and looked at me calmly. I opened it and to my eyes appeared a lovely necklace with a heart that had a key-shaped hole in the middle. I pulled it out from inside and admired it when he pulled his necklace from behind his shirt. It was shaped like a key.

Surprised, I looked alternately at his necklace, at mine and at him.

"do you like it?" de asked nervously at which I laughed.

"of course I like it. It is beautiful. But where did you get so much money to buy it?" I asked, looking at the brand name on the box.

"I saved some money and finally bought it" he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"you could have bought something for it. A new skateboard, a game. What's the occasion anyway?"

"no occasion at all" he said quietly and then after a long moment added taking a deep breath "I wanted to ask you something"

I nodded my head waiting for his question, while continuing to admire our connecting necklaces.

"what is it?" I finally asked when he didn't say anything.

Jisung, saying nothing, suddenly moved closer to me and touched his lips to mine. I sat in shock not knowing what to do but when I felt him pull away I quickly grabbed his shoulders and brought him back closer, deepening the kiss.

We sat like that for a long moment until we ran out of air. When we moved millimeters away from each other the boy spoke up whispering.

"will you be my girlfriend?" saying nothing, I moved closer to him again and kissed him once more, putting all my emotions into this kiss.

I knew that Jisung understood what I meant because he started smiling and put his arms around me, putting us on a pile of pillows.

[thewitchunderyourbed]

YOU RUN

Johnny Silverhand x Female V

Warning for violence, torture and language

.

.

.

You have always been accustomed to your intrusive thoughts.

Being a mercenary is stressful, you have to live second by second, because who knows if some cyber psychopath is ready to kill you behind a corner or if a gang member is waiting for you on your way home.

You said once that you would never reach your thirties and with the last developments, that was now the truth.

"Shit" you cursed as the image of Jakie in a pool of his blood on the backseat of Delamain's taxi infested your head.

Your brain was a haunted house, full of ghosts, full of dead people.

"I prefer roller coasters, more vomit but the rush of adrenaline is way better" Jhonny materialized on the sofa of your apartment, legs on the table and arms crossed.

"Speaking of the devil" you pondered.

"What are we going to do, eh? Looking for solving troubles or causing them? I won't say no to a JoyToy either..." he smiled from his spot, casually flipping through the pages of a magazine.

"I'm tired Jhonny, I'm going to bed" you responded, messaging your temples, feeling the beginning of a headache.

"Agh, you're no fun, girl! Stop acting like you never lose someone before, you kill people for a living!" he huffed.

Anger boiled in your veins making your blood rush to your head.

"Maybe because I'm not a terrorist like you! Did you ever think FOR REAL about what you've done? That tower was filled with people who were just making their jobs. Clerks, secretaries, technicians, the pizza guy there for a fucking delivery? A kid at work with his dad? Huh? Do you ever think about it?" you shouted out.

"That's what you think of me? That I'm just a mindless bloodthirsty killer?" he asked too calmly for your tastes.

"I can't tell you what I think about you, Silverhand " you said storming to your room where you let your body fall on the bed.

The sleep came quickly, you were exhausted, but you were equally restless.

Your dreams were filled with blood, the blood of people you once loved and of the people you killed.

There was Jhonny too at some point, just images flashing in your mind, a different dream, and you didn't know why but it happens frequently.

You woke up to the big eyes of Nibbles calling for food, that little creature was always hungry.

You padded barefoot to the kitchenette when Jhonny glitched in front of you, sitting by the sink.

"You still look like shit" he commented.

"Yeah, at least I'm not dead" you answered, earning a middle finger from the rocker.

Nibbles got his food and you made a nice cup of coffee, perfect for you but too sweet and hot for Jhonny, who complained about your tastes.

Your phone rang, and a message from Dakota about a new gig popped on the screen.

"What's this time?" Johnny asked, but you ignored him so he had to peek from behind your shoulder.

"Shit, this is sick" the man commented.

Johnny watched you calling Dakota back for confirming you accepted the job, still barefoot and walking around the room until you ended the call and entered the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower, try to not be a fucking creep" you screamed from under the water spray.

There was no need anymore to cover yourself in front of Jhonny, you've been in his head and he was literally in yours, it was the closest type of relationship ever existed.

Not even two hours later you were on the track of Maelstrom, the trail of blood they left behind was hard to ignore.

You left the bike at the corner of a large building filled with rusty containers and trash, you disabled the two large turrets that were about to point in your direction and sneaked inside by an open window.

"This fucker won't stay still! How am I supposed to cut his fucking arm? " the voice of a screaming gang member reached your ears.

"Agh just kill this bastard already" another answered.

A moment after the sound of a shot resounded off the concrete walls.

"V you have to hurry," Jhonny told you from inside your head.

You used ping to scan the area, highlighting their tech and bodies to your eyes.

"Just 6 of them, sound easy enough," you thought.

When you were right at the back of a Maelstrom, ready to snap his neck, your vision started to blur, glitch and blood ran down your nose"

You dropped to the ground senseless.

You slowly came back to your senses and for a moment you believed you could no longer see.

The room in which you were was pitch black and cold as ice, you tried to move your arms and legs but you were been tied to something, a stretcher probably.

Your breath came quick and ragged, hyperventilating from the fear, your head felt foggy, your nude body icy cold.

"Did they... Did they drug me?" you asked yourself.

When the metal sound of doors being opened filled your head, echoing like in a bad trip, you saw that they kept you in a container, waiting for the moment to slaughter you.

"Well well well, what do we have here? Some nice Corpo implants, pricy aren't they?" a light-skinned guy entered your visual field.

He pushed the stretcher into an area that reminded a surgery room, but dirtier and with various body parts hanging by hooks.

"Hehehe, just wait here, little slut. The doctor will receive you soon" he chucked darkly.

You started to panic, even more, you knew they would cut you to pieces and sell your parts to the black market, your head tried to react but the drugs made you feel like the body wasn't your own, like when Johnny...

You cried, trying to trash from side to side, screaming at the top of your lungs.

"JHONNY!" you cried.

The man gave no response.

"JHONNY PLEASE!" you tried again.

"Don't leave me alone, please don't leave me" hot tears run down your cheeks as you sobbed.

You knew that if you died he would have died too.

Another Maelstrom entered the room, followed by five more fellows.

"LET ME GO, YOU SON OF A FUCKING WHORE" you shouted.

He ignored you, continuing his task of choosing the right tool to cut your body.

Closing your eyes as you felt something touching your face, gasping in fear you opened them again, finding Jhonny looking down at you.

"V," he said "it's going to be fine"

"Johnny I don't want to die here" you whispered.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands, stroking the cold flesh with his thumbs and you swear you could have felt it.

"You will not die here, Samurai" he reassured you " I won't let that happen"

His eyes softened when you shivered and sobbed furthermore.

"Fry their chrome, V" he told you.

"What?" you asked back.

"I know you can do it. If you can reboot their optics you can overload their implants too!"

"What if I damage the Relic too?"

At that moment the big Maelstrom approached you with a saw in his hands.

"FRY THEM, NOW!" Johnny shouted.

You let out a loud and inhuman cry as you forced all your systems and hacking implants to their limits.

Maelstrom convulsed like they were electrocuted and dropped on the ground their head smoking like lit cigarettes.

"Well well well I don't remember having ordered fried shit" Jhonny commented, crouched down near a dead body.

You took the saw the man let fall on your body while dying and used it to cut the ropes.

"Thank you." you said softly" Sorry for what I said yesterday, I didn't mean it... "

"I know. I know everything that passes through your mind, you little dickhead" he chuckled.

You searched for your clothes but opted to steal them from the bodies, at least you were not nude anymore.

"I know what you think about me, for real" Jhonny said as you tuck your feet in some old booths.

"You know it?" you asked still unstable, feeling your legs like jelly.

"Yeah... That's why I fight all your nightmares away" he said lighting a cigarette.

"Johnny I-" you begin but the man interrupted your words.

"You don't need to voice your thoughts, V" a puff of smoke escaped his lips.

"Are you just telling me this to get in my panties, right? " you joked.

"Girl, right now, you are not even wearing them" he grinned.

[sizzleissues]

café (840 words. Warm up)

There was a café about ten minutes out of his way on his commute to work that Adrien always made the detour to. It was to the point he’d arrive late rather than miss out on the morning stop and his colleagues would notice his commitment to getting that coffee every morning. Some had even added it to their own commute, believing he took the risk because it was of better quality than the nearer café.

Which was also true, but that wasn’t the reason. 

He locked his bicycle to the same lamp post at the same corner with the same charity collector nodding as he passed and entered through the café doors. As part of him donating his change every day the collector looked out for his bike while he ordered his coffee.

He’d started cycling a few years back as part of an eco initiative for the students and hadn’t stopped since. He sold off his car to Nino a few months ago when he had his first kid and got a year long pass for the train and bus. Last he’d been in a car was on a school trip to London when a student left something in the hotel and he had to grab a taxi to make it there and back to the train station in time. He didn’t miss it one bit.

The café was tiny for its location, barely wide enough for three people to stand shoulder to shoulder. Two tall-legged tables sat into the windows either side of the door and a serving counter cut through the middle of the room. The place might have seemed bigger if it weren’t for the overflow of decor; eclectic signage across the walls, trinkets on every surface and tiny potted cacti with cute faces painted on. Every surface was polished and smooth to the touch but each item still bore its wear, no effort made to conceal the peeling layers of paint or the dips of dents on the counter. 

The immediate smell of coffee and herbal teas nearly was enough to energise Adrien for the rest of the day. He waited patiently though for the customer ahead of him to collect their order, tapping his foot along to the funk music just under the sounds of machines running. 

He looked out of place there, with his beige outfit paired with bright red runners and a neon helmet tucked under his arm. No one would think he used to model for a leading fashion house. It was an object of endless amusement for his students to bring up his old adverts like they didn’t already haunt his dreams and ask if all models were as unfashionable as him. Adrien knew how to look ‘fashionable’. He was intimately aware of what looked good on him, what made his eyes pop and his skin glow and of what was ‘in’ or what was timeless and a must have in his wardrobe, and had long since decided he’d ignore it all completely. 

Model Adrien Agreste was a different person to Mr Graham De Vanilly, physics and maths teacher. 

He stepped aside as the person ahead of him took their drinks and left and moved up to place his order. There wasn’t really any need for him to reiterate it at this point, the barista knew his order to the letter and if they weren’t busy would begin making it without question. 

“Same as usual, Mr Graham?” The barista asked. She smirked, a delight taken in her daily habit of teasing him. Adrien propped up his head in his hands, leaning over the counter with a grin to match.

“Surely we’re past formalities. You know every one of my student's names.”

“But you get so annoyed when I call you that.” She giggled, touching her hand to her lips. “Speaking of which, did Grace’ - she turned to the coffee machine- ‘take the advice I gave?”

“She did and she thanks you. The costumes couldn’t look better this year for the play.”

The way she worked mesmerised him. There was a complete command to her actions that only came from them being repeated so many times. Place her outside the café and she’d slip on the ground as though it was ice but here every element was under her total control. He didn’t even think she realised just how competent she was when her mind didn’t invent its own obstacles.

“I’ll have to come see it then. Since it includes some of my own work.”

Adrien accepted the coffee she handed him but his hands were shaking before he’d even taken the first sip.

“Yeah. You should.”

She stared at him with a strange expression for a moment before he corrected himself. There'd been too much sincerity in his voice.

“We might be even able to get you free tickets since you technically helped in the backstage process.”

“That sounds more like it, I can't be handing all these tips away for free." When she smiled he could see the past in her eyes. "Enjoy your day, sir.”

Adrien leaned his head to the side, a slight frown pulling his lips. She laughed again. “Enjoy your day, Adrien.”

“See you at the play, Marinette.”

( for context Marinette amnesia au where Adrien promised he'd get her to love him again but also he's aware she's a different person now and wants to do it naturally.)

[estherdedlock]

Every year, there’s a pop-culture debate about whether some movies that aren’t about Christmas, like Die Hard and Catch Me If You Can are actually “Christmas movies.” I think it depends on how the movie makes the viewer feel. If it gives you those vibes, then by golly, it is a Christmas movie.

I think a lot of readers tend to associate The Secret History with autumn, which makes perfect sense, but for me, it’s a winter’s tale---and that puts it firmly in the category of Christmas books. So in the spirit of the season, here’s an excerpt, abridged for the holidays, of one of my favorite parts of the story. Because The Secret History isn’t just a winter’s tale but a Winter tale, if you know what I mean.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!

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

  Christmas came and went without notice, except that with no work and everything closed there was no place to go to get warm except, for a few hours, to church. I came home afterwards and wrapped myself in my blanket and rocked back and forth, ice in my very bones, and thought of all the sunny Christmases of my childhood---oranges, bikes and Hula Hoops, green tinsel sparkling in the heat.   Around the second week of January I got a postcard from Rome, no return address. It was a photograph of the Primaporta Augustus: beside it, Bunny had drawn a surprisingly deft cartoon of himself and Henry in Roman dress (togas, little round eyeglasses) squinting off curiously in the direction indicated by the statue’s outstretched arm. (Caesar Augustus was Bunny’s hero; he had embarrassed us all by cheering loudly at the mention of his name during the reading of the Bethlehem story from Luke 2 at the literature division’s Christmas party. “Well, what of it,” he said, when we tried to shush him. “All the world shoulda been taxed.”)   Late one afternoon, as it was getting dark, I looked down into the empty courtyard and was startled to see that a dark, motionless figure had materialized under the lamp, standing with its hands in the pockets of its dark overcoat and looking up at my window. It was shadowy and heavy snow was falling: “Henry?” I said, and squeezed my eyes shut until I saw stars. When I opened them again, I saw nothing but snow whirling in the bright cone of emptiness beneath the light. It was Friday, and Dr. Roland was going to be out of town until the following Wednesday. For me, that meant four days in the warehouse, and even in my clouded state it was clear I might freeze to death for real.   When Commons closed I started for home. The snow was deep, and before long my legs to the knees were prickling and numb. Everything in East Hampden was dark and deserted, even the Boulder Tap; the only light for miles around seemed to be the light shimmering around the pay phone in front. I had about thirty dollars in my pocket, more than enough to call a taxi to take me to the Catamount Motel.   I had one more quarter in my pocket; it was my last one. I took off my gloves and groped in my pocket with my numbed fingers. Finally I found it, and had it in my hand and was about to bring it up to the slot, when suddenly it slipped from my fingers and I pitched forward after it, hitting my forehead on the sharp corner of the metal tray beneath the phone. I managed to get up on all fours. I saw a dark spot on the snow. The quarter was gone.   I made it up the stairs, half walking, half on my hands and knees. Blood was trickling down my forehead. I pushed the workshop door open with my shoulder and began to fumble for the light switch when suddenly I saw something by the window that made me reel with shock. A figure in a long black overcoat was standing motionless across the room by the windows, hands clasped behind the back; near one of the hands I saw the tiny glow of a cigarette coal.   “Henry?” I said at last, my voice scarcely more than a whisper.   He let the cigarette fall from his fingers and took a step towards me. It really was him---damp, ruddy cheeks, snow on the shoulders of his overcoat. “Good God, Richard,” he said, “what’s happened to you?”   It was as much surprise as I ever saw him show. I reached for the door frame, and the next thing I knew I was falling, and Henry had jumped forward to catch me.   He eased me onto the floor and took off his coat and spread it over me like a blanket. “Where did you come from?” I said.   “I left Italy early.” He was brushing the hair back from my forehead. I saw blood on his fingertips.   “Some little place I’ve got here, huh?” I said, and laughed.   “Yes,” he said brusquely. Then he bent to look at my head again.

[mimenya]

Between a broken motorcycle and Chinese leftovers

Can the day get worse after your motorcycle failed on you? Yes, once you learn how pricy the repair is. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to comfort you!

An AntinomyxPlacido human AU OneShot with sprinkles of fluff

"Fuck you I'm not paying 1500 euros for this!"

The angry adult continued to shout at the voice while chucking various Italian insults in the mix before he slammed the phone on the counter, startling the cat who was just trying to get some pets.

Wisel leaped off the counter with a hiss as she strode over to the blue-haired man who arrived just a few minutes ago.

Antinomy looked at his boyfriend with wide eyes, flinching visibly at the sound of the phone crashing against the counter.

"I am a bit scared to ask but is everything okay?" he asked carefully while picking up the cat between his legs, already hearing the purr vibrating in her body.

His boyfriend whips around to face him, his red eye seemingly glowing with fury.

"No, it´s fucking not! My goddamn bike broke down on the way home! I had to drag it like 5 kilometers to the nearest mechanic and grab a taxi home only to find out they want to charge me 1500 euros for the broken components!" Placido began to explain, examining his phone and noticing a new crack, further souring his mood, "The best part about all this is; The repair costs are not yet included!"

Placido was not a Monday person, to begin with, and considering the current situation, it was an astonishment only the phone took damage.

The young pair of lovers lived together for barely four months now. Their flat was just enough for the two plus their two cats. Money was tight, even with both maintaining jobs. Rent, food, college fees, and general life proved to be harder to handle than they foresaw at first.

It´s not like they could ask their parents for help; Antinomy´s lived quite a distance away and their contact has been rather muted for the last year. Placido´s family lived far closer. However, they proved themselves to be rather unsupportive of their troublesome son.

Carefully, Antinomy sat down Wisel who scurried off to find a comfortable sleeping spot. Walking over to his lover, he took Placido´s face in his hands. His thumbs caressed his boyfriend's cheeks while making a suggestion.

"We can always take your motorcycle to my brother and his partner. Both are incredible mechanics and can certainly fix it quickly and for a lot cheaper!"

Placiod leaned into the touch, a sigh leaving his lips as he visibly relaxed.

"I hate to ask them for assistance and you know that. It feels awful to be in their debt."

"He is my brother okay? There will be opportunities where we can help them. One hand washes the other, you know?"

Now that the mood has calmed a bit, Ant got a better look at his boyfriend. He must´ve been home for a while now, already dressed in a pink corgi oodie. The cozy clothing item went down to his knees and had a front pocket just large enough to hold Johnny, their tiger-striped cat. Placido's mess of grey hair was kept back with a simple black headband. He ditched the eyepatch over his right eye completely, feeling unbothered by Antinomy seeing his scars.

A slight blush colored Ant´s cheeks as he noticed how adorable his partner looked, quite a contradiction to his explosive personality.

He bent down and captured Placido´s lips in a tender kiss, enjoying the fuzzy warm feeling spreading through his body. Johnny purred inside the pocket, adding to the relaxing atmosphere.

"Let´s take it easy today. We still have some Chinese leftovers, so how about a movie and some cuddles?" Antinomy asked after parting.

His boyfriend eyed him for a second, considering the options before starting to smirk.

"Throw in a foot massage and I am in."

Ant couldn´t help but roll his eyes, never losing his smile.

"Fine, everything you want honey!"

His partner cringed for a second at the cutey-name calling while grabbing the leftovers out of the fridge.

The lovers spent a comfy evening, enjoying each other's company while cuddling and of course, foot massages.

//

Things happened this week including mechanical breakdowns and comfy clothes so I wrote this in the middle of the night to make myself feel a little better.

These two deserve to be happy once in a while, and they would definitely be cat dads.

Also, oodies are so damn comfortable and I am sad it´s getting too hot to wear mine.

[raiding]

Day 3, done.

I stopped worrying about my fitness on day 1 after the first 9 km climb. I was a bit worried again this morning about day 3 legs, and knew the climbing was loaded into the back end of today's ride (we have ended almost 600 m higher than we started). I don't often do three big rides on consecutive days.

I stopped worrying when I could see the top of the 14 km last climb, the earlier part of which had been really hard, in baking heat. The average temperature my Garmin recorded today was 33 deg C. The maximum reading of 49 looks like an outlier, but it was above 40 for a good 20 minutes on the lower stretches of that climb. Worse than the heat, though, were the afternoon flies: there was just enough tailwind on the climb to mean my airspeed was effectively zero, which makes the sweating cyclist a dripping roast for small things with wings.

At the van at the top of the last climb I met 3 other riders, who I think were doing the Classic route. As we prepared to leave for the last descent to Ronda, one of them said "Should be there in an hour." I said "Half an hour," and I was right: for me, anyway. I passed the three of them early on the descent, and time-trialled to the outskirts of Ronda. It's not a race, obvs, but that was quite satisfying!

I got my watch to speak to my bike computer this morning, to tell it my heart-rate, so I have better data on how I'm holding up, three days in. In short, well. I think I was the first Challenge rider back, for the third day running, though it was harder to tell today. I'm not the fastest on the road, but I'm strong on the climbs (also satisfying, as that's something I've been working to achieve), and my aerobic endurance is good, so I don't need to stop as much as most. As a result, I keep leapfrogging other Challenge riders. "Have you been using a taxi?" one asked.

I will, of course, have day 4 legs tomorrow. We'll see how they compare to day 3 legs.

[fantabulisticity]

I am so angry I'm literally crying.

So after a very painful attempt at riding my bike home, I walked it home (which means one of my few means of transport isn't an option anymore! 😊😊😊😊😊 I'm going to kill something 😊😊😊😊😊) and talked to my roommate about the shower fiasco -- you know, the ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE situation which is being unable to shower.

Me: "Hey, [name]? We need to get the shower fixed. I had to shower at my grandparents' house today, and I cannot do that again."

Her: "Okay, but it's the weekend [so the office isn't open]."

[[[*it's Sunday EVENING*]]]

Me: "Okay, :) but :) tomorrow's Monday, :) which is not :) the weekend. :) :) :)"

Her: "Okay, yeah, we can do that."

Me: "Thanks. I can't shower at someone else's place again."

Her: "Baths are also an option,"

Me: ":) ... :) ... :) ... :) ... :) I can't :) get my head :) under :) the faucet. :) I :) can't :) wash :) my :) hair :) in :) a :) bath. :) The :) :) :) soap :) :) :) doesn't :) :) :) come :) :) :) out. :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)"

Her: "Oh, okay, we can do that, then."

Me, internally:

FUCKING SCREAMING

[angryschnauzer]

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 

-

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

-

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…” 

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

-

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

-

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

-

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 

[ginemrys]

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

[milenadaniels]

Before the Night Fades, 8.6k - POV Outsider on Buck/Eddie double date shenanigans (AO3)

“I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who."

---

Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

The nearly-post-COVID return to normal rush is going exactly as well as management at the Tilted Cactus expected it would, which is to say it’s going as miserably as the waitstaff at the Tilted Cactus expected it would.

The owners lost a lot of money to lockdowns, diminished capacity and the general (extremely warranted) paranoia of co-mingling in public during an international plague for the sake of overpriced appetizers. And despite accurately predicting the business would boom once the doors re-opened, management didn’t feel the need to account for more staff to serve said business.

So despite owing $34k on her student loans (that’s after a generous gift from both her parents and her maternal grandmother), barely being able to afford rent in LA, and the utter lack of career prospects, Mere is taking a break in the backroom, next to the dirty mop bucket, mentally running through her finances before she officially gives her notice.

She can’t quit, she knows that.

Turns out leaving New Zealand for LA with nothing but a dream and the idea that if Taika could do it so could she was not the most future-proof plan she could have come up with. The starving artist thing was so 2010.

But Mere’s made up her mind. She’s not made for this abuse. This is bullshit. She’s going to pack up, go home, and you know, do...something else. She’ll figure it out.

Mere pulls herself up from her indelicate crouch on some empty crates and goes in search of a piece of paper — or a fucking napkin, who cares — on which to write up her official resignation.

“No, in section 3A,” she hears Tomas fake-whisper. He’s one of the few new hires to grace these hallowed halls and still thinks it’s disrespectful to talk shit about customers even in the backroom. Umida, a five year veteran of this distinguished profession, has been trying to disabuse him of this particular nonsense.

“Where the fuck is section 3A, Tommy? We have sections 1 to 9, we don’t have any letters.”

“The new sidewalk sections have letters, to distinguish them from inside.”

“You mean sections 10 and 11?”

“...Mr. Peters said they’re using letters.”

“Mr. Peters can swallow my entire ass. The sidewalk sections are literally right outside the door from 9, why would they not be called 10 and 11?”

“Or ‘Hell On Earth’ and ‘Kill Me Please’, as we call them colloquially,” Mere offers, startling Tomas as she pushes through the swinging door she’d been hiding behind. Patio dining is highly encouraged and an excellent way to dine if one has patios. The Tilted Cactus does not have patios. It has a temporary license to put tables on the dirty sidewalk outside their restaurant, where waitstaff get to weave around pedestrians, dogs, and carts like they’re completing an obstacle course.

“Yeah, those work,” Umida agrees, emphasizing her point with a dispirited index finger in Mere’s direction.

“Okay, whatever,” Tomas says with a pained eye roll. “Can you please just check it out and let me know?”

“What’s happening?” Mere asks. She’s leaving this popsicle stand (ideally, on fire as she walks away slowly into the night) but she’s also starved of both human attention and the inherent drama of the culinary world so she’ll be damned if she misses out on one final showdown.

Tomas takes a breath to steel himself. “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who.”

“You don’t have gaydar where you come from?” Umida asks in perfect deadpan.

Tomas glares harder, crosses his arms and juts one hip out. “I come from San Francisco. We invented gaydar. I’m saying I’m pretty sure the guys are together, but I’m also pretty sure they’re each with the women they’re sitting next to. So figure that out.”

“Like a double thruple?” Mere asks, now actually becoming curious.

“Like a ‘I don’t know what y’all are smoking this far north but I don’t understand your weird relationship dynamics and I’m still on probation and I can’t lose this job because I can’t move back in with my brother because I will murder him and I can’t be an only child with aging parents in this economy so can you please just go out there and tell me what the fuck is happening so I can throw this ring at the right person and punch out sometime before I ‘accidentally’ fall on the meat clever downstairs?’ kind of situation.”

Umida and Mere share a glance.

“Okay, well, don’t despair, new guy,” Mere says with a pat on his arm. “Save the meat cleaving for the capitalist elite. We got you. Let the pros handle this.”

“What did the note say?” Umida asks. “One ‘e’ or two? We can at least eliminate half of our options.”

Tomas does not check the note to spot whether the note-taker had written ‘fiancé’ or ‘fiancée’. He stares them down and fips the note in his fingers so the text faces them.

“It says ‘finance’.”

“Ah.”

“We’re going to need a more hands-on investigation, then,” Mere announces.

—————————-

Mere goes first, only because Umida was on her way to swap a side dressing for her table when Tomas intercepted her.

Mere carries a jug of water and makes the rounds of the outdoor tables, trying to hold in her visible distaste for the pseudo-patio vibe the owners tried to make happen out here. There’s a bike stand and a taxi stand two feet from where people are trying to have a romantic dinner. Every now and again, the LA traffic gets rowdy and noisy, completely butchering the atmosphere. There’s a shitty speaker funneling in some Frank Sinatra but it really does nothing to help.

But after this mystery is solved, none of this will be her problem anymore.

Like Tomas said, there are two men and two women sitting like cardinal points around a round table. The women are on the north and east ends, the men on the south and west ones. Two of them are brunets, one a redhead, and one a blond. They’re all disgustingly gorgeous.

And that’s all she’s got.

“The ravioli sounds so good,” the brunette woman says, casting a look at the brunet man to her side.

“Yeah, it does,” he says.

“Mm,” the blond man disagrees. “It’s got feta.”

“What’s wrong with feta?” Asks the redheaded woman.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with feta,” he responds with a superior smile directed at the man next to him who’s preemptively adopting the look of someone ready to hear some bullshit. “Unless you have an underdeveloped palate and are simply overwhelmed by such strong delicacies as a moderately salty cheese.”

“Okay, don’t talk to me about an underdeveloped palate, Pennsylvania,” the other man responds, posturing despite the softness of his eyes.

“Hey, I said nothing to besmirch the great state of Texas. Texas is a wonder of culinary delight. I’m saying you’re...a simple man.”

“Feta’s disgusting and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” the brunet says with smug finality, holding the other man’s eyes until they’re both smirking and looking back at their menus.

Well then.

Mere’s a little bummed as she fills the water at table 36. She’d been hoping the mystery would run longer than 2 whole minutes, but these guys are definitely together. So the mystery will only come down to who’s getting eng—

“Thankfully Chris inherited a more refined palate,” the blond man — Pennsylvania — chirps as the last word.

“He did,” the brunette woman chimes in with a playful smile. “He loves my cooking. You both loved that greek salad I made last week, didn’t you? That had feta in it.”

“It did!” the brunet man replies, slipping his hand overtop hers. “And I loved it. So clearly context is a factor.”

Mere almost spills the rest of the water all over the lady at table 38 as she takes in the man and woman mooning at each other. Though if it’s any consolation, the redheaded woman looks as unimpressed as Mere feels.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Mere reports back to Tomas.

“The redheads are playing footsie under the table now. That’s one couple at least right?” Tomas asks. The two of them are parked behind the bar where they can see through the window outside but the exterior tint prevents anyone outside from seeing them. The bar is still used for pouring drinks but the stools are gone — can’t maintain 6 feet between them — so the staff pretty much have the run of this corner of the restaurant.

“He’s not a redhead,” Mere mutters, looking out the window to catch the action. “It’s like a dark blond. And I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the two brunets are together, but then blond guy’s foot is way into the other guy’s space.” For a moment she’s distracted by just how damn long his legs are. “That’s certainly...familiar.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida declares when she returns from dropping off plates at table 32.

“They’re lesbians?” Tomas parrots skeptically. “I did not get that vibe.”

“I could see lesbian for the redhead, I think,” Mere says. “Don’t know about the brunette.”

“Lesbians come in all flavours,” Umida informs them haughtily. It’s the start of Pride month and her hijab is held together by an “Ally” pin. “You can’t tell someone’s orientation just by looking at them.”

“But you’ve declared them lesbians,” Mere points out.

“Because lesbians are approaching their table and only lesbians know other lesbians.”

“That’s definitely not true,” Tomas reproaches.

“No, she’s right, lesbians coming up!” Mere watches as two more unfairly gorgeous women approach with two young boys in tow. Honestly, screw LA and their beauty standards. The parties look surprised to see each other, but they clearly know each other well. One of the boys stays with the women, but the other one breaks off to join the table.

“No, I mean you can know lesbians without being a lesbian.”

Umida and Mere ignore him.

“Okay, that’s one of their kids, right?” Umida asks. “Lesbians babysitting for date night?”

“He’s got Pennsylvania’s curls,” Mere agrees. "That's the blond guy, by the way, I think he’s from there. Brunet guy is Texas for the time being."

The boy reaches the table and is pulled into a strong hug by Texas, who then directs him to a hug with the brunette.

“Oh, unexpected.” Mere would have sworn he was a dead ringer for Pennsylvania. “But okay, that confirms the hand-holding I saw. We have a set of parents. And unless this is a super modern table, I don’t see the parents being here on dates with other people.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” Umida dithers. “That’s like an auntie hug, not a parent hug. Like if she is the mom, the kid is not happy with her.”

“Wait,” Tomas says.

The boy is wiggling out of Brunette’s grasp and rounding the table to Pennsylvania who’s waiting with a wide smile and open arms, and instead of letting go after, the boy finagles his way onto Pennsylvania’s lap to steal a breadstick. Pennsylvania reaches into the basket for another breadstick to pass to the little boy still waiting with his moms and Mere’s heart tugs a little.

Texas watches on from across the table with unrestrained fondness. His leg shifts to press against Pennsylvania’s who looks up with a smile.

“Boom, gay dads!” Tomas crows.

“And lesbians,” Umida adds.

“Redhead definitely has no part of this,” Mere notes. The woman is smiling but it’s polite and practised, not warm or welcoming. “I guess the brunets could be siblings maybe? Really close siblings?”

Finally, the babysitters make to leave so Pennsylvania kisses the boy’s temple and guides him back to his feet. Texas presses his own kiss to the boy’s curls as he passes, saying something they can’t make out from behind the glass. Brunette gets only a wave as he leaves.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida concludes smugly.

“Okay, good,” Tomas sighs with relief. “So we know who the couples are, now who’s gettin—”

“Um,” Mere interrupts, pointing at the table.

Redhead’s foot is making its way up Pennsylvania’s leg and he shoots her a grin.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tomas spits as he walks away.

“Did you even take their order yet?” Mere calls after him. He doesn’t answer.

———-

Mere gets pulled away because now that she’s not quitting in outrage until this table 34 drama is over, she figures she should actually get back to work. Happily, having not seen her for the last 20 minutes, Mikael figured she had left or died and had taken over her section. She agrees to split half the tips with him and lets herself be pulled back into the tide of madness.

“Got it figured yet, Tim-Tam?” she asks when she passes him near the bathrooms.

“The guys are sharing their orders,” he says despondently.

“That’s not that incriminating. I split my orders with people. I’m not about to pay full price to discover if I like something.”

“No,” Tomas glares before gesturing to the window with disgust. “They’re sharing their orders.”

Tomas stalks away to hopefully take an herbal break to calm down and Mere goes back to the window just in time to catch the insanity. Mere feels Umida come up behind her and tries to suppress her shiver when her “what in all that is holy” skates across her bare shoulder.

Pennsylvania has just finished piling some of his spaghetti on Texas’ plate, which is exceedingly normal. But now Pennsylvania is reaching for Texas' burger.

“He didn’t cut that,” Umida notes.

“No, he did not.”

They have pretty messy burgers at Tilted Cactus, ones that are hard to share because if you cut them down the middle they tend to lose structural integrity. Of course, this isn’t a big concern if you’re sharing already-bitten-into burgers. Which these absolute freaks are doing.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida declares again, the earlier smugness replaced with an air of disgust.

But when Umida walks away, Mere watches Brunette wipe something off Texas’ cheek and frowns. One throuple and redheaded side piece? Maybe?

————

“I’m struggling with lesbians as a theory,” Mere tells Umida the next chance she gets at the pickup counter. “I want to believe, but…”

“Yeah, I’m doubting now too. They’re almost exclusively talking to each other. But then I realized it was more getting-to-know-you conversation and this would be a hell of a weird first date.”

“Huh, so heteros all around?”

“Well, I also caught on that they’re spending all this time talking to each other because the guys are like in their own world. Finishing each others’ —”

“Sandwiches?”

“Exactly,” Umida grins, unexpectedly delighted by the reference. “So I don’t know. I really don’t envy Tommy.”

“Me either.”

“Hey Manish,” Umida yells out to the other side of the pickup window, “I’m picking up for Lenore but she’s got a two-seater, why do I have four dishes here?”

“Because Lenore can’t write for shit,” Mere says, picking up the order slip and squinting at the scrawl. “These are for table 24, not 29. It’s a four-seater.”

“Alright, well I guess you’re helping me, then,” Umida says with a wink.

Umida is fully capable of carrying four dishes on her own but she’s asking Mere to come with her so Mere’s already reaching for the plates, hoping the blush on her cheek can be written off as heat from the kitchen.

————-

During a slow stretch, Mere takes it upon herself to refill water and wine glasses in section 10.

From table 32 she can hear them talking about elementary school workloads.

“Oh, ah, I meant to let you know,” Pennsylvania says to Redhead, sitting up in his seat. “I can’t make it to the movies next Friday, can we move it to the next week? I should know my schedule by Wednesday.”

“Sure,” Redhead says with a hint of bite to her pleasant smile. “But I thought you had Friday off.”

“I do,” Pennsylvania says, his lips curving into a small, excited smile, “but Christopher won his class’ public speaking competition and they’re doing a kind of show of all the winners for the parents, and it’s on Friday.”

Mere moves around table 34 and heads for table 36 next, but catches the looks of discomfort on every face aside from Pennsylvania’s. He doesn’t realize he’s said something wrong, but the rest of them have.

“Isn’t that just during school hours?” Brunette woman asks.

Texas hesitates before saying, “yeah, but we’re taking him to Universal after to celebrate.”

Out of pity, Mere doubles back to table 34 and reaches for his water glass to fill. People tend to keep their drama buckled while the waitstaff is there. And sure enough, Redhead glances up and paints a tense smile on her face.

“Yeah, not a problem. That sounds exciting.”

There’s a bite to her words, and by the way his shoulders tense and his fingers curl more tightly around his fork, Texas seems to have picked up on it.

————-

By the end of the entrees, most of the staff have caught onto Tomas’ predicament and one by one everyone from the table-bussers to the cooks have gone out for a smokeless smoke break to try to be the one to divine what the hell is happening at table 34.

None are successful.

“This isn’t even like a romantic date,” Mani laments. “Like none of them are that dressed up and they’re talking about like natural disasters and shit. I don’t get a proposal vibe from like any of them.”

“Who even goes on a double date to propose? Who does that? It’s so tacky!” Gabby says from behind the bar where she’s helping herself to a quick nip before she heads home.

“Who still thinks the ring in the champagne bit is a good idea, is my question. It’s a choking hazard!” Mere says. “How romantic to start off your engagement with a trip to the ER.”

Tomas ignores them all. He looks about 10 minutes away from saying to hell with his probationary status and drinking the next hour away straight out of the vodka bottle at his elbow. “I know it’s Pride and I should be representing but I could really do with a little heteronormativity right now.”

—————-

Tomas is stalling.

Table 34 asked for dessert, of course, and when he vaguely floated the idea of champagne, Texas had readily agreed, so this is happening. The champagne flutes are lined up on a tray, the champagne in them is warming with every minute that passes, and he is no closer to figuring out what to do.

“What if I put all the glasses in the middle and they have to pick which one they want?”

“Okay but the person getting proposed to tonight likely doesn’t know?” Mikael says.

“What if you pretend you didn’t see the instructions?” Shania pitches. “As if we can ever write stuff down correctly anyway. Just say it said to bring out the champagne but nothing about the ring being in a flute! Just hand it back to the proposer and let them get it done.”

“You think we don’t know who the proposee is but we know who the proposer is?” Tomas bites. “If I knew that, Shania, I could have just called them away with a phone call or something and asked them who to give the flute to.”

“Geez,” Shania exclaims, hopping off the bar counter to walk away. “You try to help…”

“And then there were three,” Mario announces as he comes back from another completely unnecessary round of filling water glasses outside.

Tomas’ head snaps up from where he’d been staring into the countertops. “What?”

They all rush to the window and sure enough: Redhead is gone.

“I didn’t see her come in,” Mere says, almost breathlessly. If she’d come in to use the restroom, they would have seen her.

“No, she’s gone-gone,” Mario supplies. “Said she had to get back to work but I’m pretty sure she just wanted out. That’s the chick from the news, you know?”

“People still watch the news?” Mere wondered aloud.

Tomas tsks. “Redhead was the least probable suspect!”

“Well we can rule out Brunette and Pennsylvania as a couple, right?” Umida asks, waiting briefly for the gathered crowd to nod. “Okay, so we’re down to the brunets together, or Pennsylvania and Texas.”

“Or polyamorous,” Mikael sniffs. Mikael is trying polyamory. He doesn’t know there’s a bet going on how long he’ll last. It’s a fine relationship style to get into but one he and his jealousy and insecurity issues are deeply unsuited for.

“Apologies, Mikael, or polyamorous. So you have...yeah, 3 of 3 options left for that ring,” Umida grimaces.

“Wait!” So-Hee cries. She’s supposed to be hosting at the entrance but COVID-19 protocols mean people don’t show up earlier than 5 minutes before their reservation so the podium isn’t very backed up. “What does the ring look like? That could be a clue, right?”

They look to Tomas, whose face is blank.

“You didn’t look?” Mere accuses him, though to be fair it never occurred to her either.

So-Hee pounces on the deep purple velvet box without waiting for Tomas to answer.

“Please god,” Tomas mumbles, grabbing the box out of her hands and prying it open with almost reckless enthusiasm.

All six members of staff currently on duty at the window crowd around, many heads bumping together to catch a glimpse. The ring nestled in the box has a slim, dainty band with a solitaire diamond jutting out proudly, with filigree details on either side.

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, that is a woman’s ring!” Tomas nearly yells.

“It could be a man’s ring,” Umida protests weakly, almost sad to see the drama come to an end.

Mere’s a little put out too if she’s being honest. But even if they couldn’t tell from the design, the sizing is way too small to fit on either of table 34’s men’s fingers, as So-Hee demonstrates by plucking the ring up and sliding it onto her own tiny finger.

“Yeah, get it stuck on your sweaty fingers, So-Hee,” Tomas protests almost hysterically, feeling his win come into danger. He wrestles it back off her finger and shoves it back in the box before taking a deep cleansing breath.

“Okay, I’ve got a dessert course to deliver,” he says, the picture of calm professionalism as if he hasn’t spent the last hour losing his entire shit.

———-

They should disperse then, but like brothers in arms after battle, all of them feel the need to stand guard as Tomas prepares to deliver the goods.

Some of them, like So-Hee, stand because they’ve foolishly become emotionally invested in the upcoming nuptial bliss.

Some of them, like Umida, stand because they fell in love with their version of events and they feel the need to properly mourn for what might have been.

“They’re co-parenting that boy,” Umida grumbles. “We all saw that! They can’t deny that!”

And some of them, like Mere, stand because they really can’t be bothered to get back to work.

But stand together they do as Tomas plops the ring in one flute and carries the tray out.

“Excuse me,” comes a voice off to the side of their group.

So-Hee, ever the consummate people-pleaser, actually turns to take care of the customer. The rest of them stay fixed at the window. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Maybe? I couldn’t help but notice that young man taking some champagne out.”

“Yes, would you like to order a bottle as well?” So-Hee pokes Mikael. “We’d be happy to bring some out to you.”

“Ah, no,” the man says. “Well, yes. But I’ve already ordered some. I called earlier, when I reserved my table.”

Mere stiffens, her sixth sense borne of years of customer service piquing. Beside her, Umida takes note as well.

“I asked that champagne be brought to the table with dessert, and I left a box...one that looks a lot like the one on your counter there. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence but I couldn’t help but want to make sure it’s not my ring that just went out to that other table.”

Mere’s wide eyes spring to Umida’s.

“Oh my fuck,” Umida whispers.

Then they’re both racing for the door.

“Wrong table, wrong table, wrong table,” Mere mutters under her breath as she dodges a stroller and a dog walker trying to reach Tomas —

“Oh, Edmundo!” Brunette exclaims brightly.

Umida’s hand braces Mere like a soccer mom in a car.

It’s too late now.

There’s nothing they can do but watch this trainwreck happen.

Happily, Redhead vacated the seat nearest to them so they have an unobstructed view of Brunette’s eyes filling with tears, of Texas’ wide eyes, and of Pennsylvania’s face losing all colour.

From context, Texas is the Edmundo Brunette is so pleased with.

But Edmundo is shaking his head, his brow furrowed. “I...wha— ”

Pennsylvania comes back to himself first, though the smile he paints on his face is strained and frail. “Ah, con — congratulations.”

“Wha— Buck, no.”

Pennsylvania — Buck — stands up from the table like a colt learning to walk, his eyes darting across the table without landing anywhere. “I — ah — I should let you guys celebrate.”

“Buck, no, I—” Edmundo’s voice is firmer now, his hand darting out to reach for Buck, and Brunette starts to catch on that nobody’s getting down on one knee with a flowery speech.

“Edmundo?” she calls, her bright smile dimming.

Edmundo looks torn and trapped in equal measure, and Mere wonders for a heartbreaking moment if maybe he’s as confused about his relationships as the Tilted Cactus employees have been tonight.

With a sigh, and a reminder that she’s out of this place like Cinderella at midnight, Mere falls on the proverbial meat cleaver. Stepping around Umida’s still outstretched arm, Mere weaves herself in front of Tomas just in case there’s any physical fallout, and pitches her voice low so the neighbouring tables will have to strain to listen in.

“Excuse me, my name is Mere, I’m the assistant manager. I am so sorry to inform you there’s been a terrible mistake. We’ve delivered a ring to your table that was destined to another this evening. We apologize deeply for any confusion this has caused and we will of course be comping your meals.”

“It—Oh.” Brunette’s eyes land on the ring on her finger, and her remaining excitement implodes into embarrassment so quickly and resoundly that Mere’s surprised it doesn’t produce an audible sound. The fingers of her opposite hand grip the ring and pause for a moment before slipping it off. There’s no box to slip it into so Mere holds out her hand, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

“Thank you,” Mere says quietly. “Please forgive us for the mistake. We will be investigating what happened so it never happens again.”

“Of course,” Brunette says lightly, forcing some life back into her voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Her eyes lift then and take in the scene across from her. Edmundo and Buck still standing, Edmundo’s hand wrapped round Buck’s wrist to keep him from leaving, and her eyes shutter once more.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” she says politely, rising from her seat and escaping into the restaurant.

Edmundo watches her go but says nothing, frozen still, holding onto the man beside him.

With all eyes more or less off them now, Mere gathers Tomas and Umida and hauls ass back into the restaurant.

————-

The ring is cleaned and inspected by Gareth, its actual owner, who is amiable enough to not escalate the situation further. His fiancée-to-be is none the wiser on any of these happenings — luckily their table, 29, is indoors — so his proposal is still on for the next course. But, just in case it doesn’t go the way Gareth hopes and he turns on them, Mere preemptively comps their meal too and congratulates him before he’s reseated.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs Lenore and uses the last hour of her completely fake authority to formally bar her from ever answering the phone again, or taking notes from the phone, or writing anything anywhere ever again. Lenore, having heard about the drama at table 34 and having seen the crying woman rush to the bathroom just now, accepts with little resistance.

And Mere, heart heavy with the weight of what they’ve done to this poor woman, mentally shakes her fist at her own curiosity and need for schadenfreude. If she’d bailed on this place an hour ago, she wouldn’t be leaving with this heartache by proxy.

As if beckoned by her thoughts, Brunette emerges from the bathroom just as Mere is crossing in front of it. She looks better, her tears packed away, and her cheeks only slightly reddened. Mere is about to offer her something — a glass of water? wine? a whole bottle? — when Edmundo steps into view. Mere doesn’t break stride until she’s behind the protection of the pay terminal privacy partition where she can see them but not be seen.

“Hey,” he says softly, his frame pretty loose and relaxed for a man who looked so troubled moments ago.

“Hey,” she returns with a forced smile.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know—”

Brunette cuts him off with a hand. “It’s not your fault. They made a mistake. It happens.”

Edmundo nods.

“But…” Brunette continues, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. “For a moment, it didn’t seem far-fetched that it...might be real, you know? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but we have been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it...it didn’t seem so far-fetched.”

Edmundo’s shoulders have grown tense, and it doesn’t escape Brunette’s notice. She smiles sadly.

“But then I looked up and you weren’t even looking at me. You were looking at Buck. You were so scared he would leave and that — that just doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, even if the...the ring was a big misunderstanding, wouldn’t it have been better that he leave so we could talk about it privately? But you were scared, because he was upset… And if he was...I don’t know...upset that you hadn’t told him about this, you could have caught up later and discussed it, cleared it up.”

Edmundo says nothing, but he hangs his head and gnaws on his lower lip.

“But you were scared. Scared of him leaving in that moment. Scared...that he’d leave with the wrong idea? That he’d leave thinking you were — we were... ” Brunette sighs sharply. “I think I’ve been a fool.”

“You haven’t—” Edmundo tries to say.

“No, I have. It’s felt so many times like there’s been a third wheel in this relationship, and I genuinely didn’t realize until now that it was me. And maybe I’m naive but I’d like to think you didn’t realize it until today either. That you’re just as big a fool as I am. And maybe Buck is too.”

Edmundo opens his mouth twice to say something but nothing comes out. In the end, he settles on, “Ana, I’m sorry. I...didn’t realize. I don’t even know if I understand what I realize. But I...I know you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you didn’t deserve this.”

Brunette — Ana — smiles again sadly, and if a touch bitterly, she’s entitled to it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, before fidgeting with her purse strap again. “I’m going to go. You’ll...say goodbye to Buck for me?” Edmundo nods.

“Goodbye, Edmundo.”

“Take care, Ana,” he responds.

Ana takes a few steps before stopping and turning. “Good luck. I think…” she shakes her head before repeating, “good luck,” and leaving out the side doors.

Mere unglues herself from the privacy wall and slinks sadly back to the bar where she finds Tomas and Umida already halfway through a glass of red each. There’s a third, untouched glass waiting for her.

“We’re horrible people,” Mere decides. “Brunette and Texas just broke up.”

“We didn’t do this,” Umida protests half-heartedly. “Technically, Tomas did.”

“Ugh, you ass,” Tomas sputters. “The note said table 34, you all saw it. It’s Lenore’s fault.”

“It is Lenore’s fault,” Mere agrees before downing half her glass like a shot. Out the window, she can see Pennsyl — Buck — slumped in his chair, staring at the tablecloth. There’s a fresh bottle of wine on the table, two empty glasses at his and Edmundo’s places. Mere raises a glass at Tomas for the gesture.

“If they don’t end up drinking it, I’m taking it home,” Tomas says, “I already wrote it off.”

That’s fair.

Unfortunately for him, when Edmundo gets back to the table, he immediately pours them both a very full glass.

Buck straightens out in his chair, looking concerned and looking around for Ana, who doesn’t materialize. Edmundo says something that has Buck relaxing but looking guilty. Then Edmundo shuffles closer and puts a hand back on Buck’s wrist.

“Okay, back to work,” Mere orders. “We’ve intruded on this drama way too much already.”

When she finds her way back to the bar some twenty minutes later for a totally appropriate reason, table 34 is empty.

————————

A year later, Mere finds herself sitting on the Tilted Cactus bar counter on a Friday night, legs swinging and popping olives like they’re mints. She ended up not quitting her job the night she intended to. Between the excitement, the drama, and the on-duty alcohol, she was feeling pretty chill about sticking it out at the Tilted Cactus a while longer.

But she ended up quitting two days later when the owner found out about how she impersonated an assistant manager and gave her hell for it. She could have stayed, he wasn’t really going to reprimand her. But listening to him talk down at her while her stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to apologize and walk back into that hell hole…nah. Fuck the Tilted Cactus, fuck the owner, and fuck two weeks’ notice. They weren’t getting a minute out of her ever again.

She took the gamble of taking out more student loans and was wrapping up her EMT certification. She’d be in an ambulance soon enough, actually helping people. Not the dream that got her to America, but one that would suffice for now. Make up enough karma to get her feet back under her.

“The lesbians are back,” Umida announces excitedly in a whisper as she fits herself between Mere’s legs against the bar.

“Which lesbians?”

“THEE lesbians,” Umida returns, pointing out the window.

“Those are two guys, babe. Three if you count the kid.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida insists, waving her hand to dismiss the kid from her labels. “They have strong lesbian energy.”

“You’re claiming them for your people?” Mere grins fondly. It’s the start of Pride again and Umida’s Ally pin has been traded in for a lesbian-flag coloured hijab secured with the updated BIPOC Pride flag pin. She’s very pretty in pink, right down to the lipstick Mere isn’t allowed to kiss off of her until her shift is up.

“I am, they’re mine. I claim them.”

“Wait,” Mere squints, trying to pin down the familiar feeling she’s getting, “are those…”

“The guys! Eddie and Buck. I told you they were semi-regulars now. And we were right, that’s totally their kid. I don’t know how, especially since we know they weren’t together before that night, but he’s their kid. My money’s on one of them being trans because he’s literally their spitting image combined.”

Mere sighs happily and hugs Umida to her. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of that night.”

“Umida?” a young voice asks from across the bar. In the year since the reopening, a slew of new hires have joined the ranks to replace all the veterans leaving and Mere barely recognizes anyone anymore. She saw Mikael (unsurprisingly single again) a couple of weeks ago but he’s clearly on his way out too. Tomas lasted until his probation was over before quitting. Umida, in no small part because she was the longest lasting employee, was rightfully promoted to the role of assistant manager. Mere still hopes she’ll leave this hell hole soon but in the meantime, at least she’s getting paid. And authority looks really good on her.

“What up, Jerome?”

Jerome pushes his dark blue fringe back and holds up a sheet of paper. “I have a note here to deliver a ring to a table with dessert but it doesn’t say who’s supposed to get it.”

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Mere laughs and tries to push Umida away. “Let me out of here.”

Umida’s arms close around her hips, preventing her escape.

“Calm down. I created a form so that night doesn’t happen again. Jerome, did you use the form?”

“Um, yeah.” He shakes the sheet of paper in his hands. “I mean whoever took the call did. They checked off the table number, and it’s a ‘fiancé’ not a ‘fiancée’, but it’s a table with two guys so…”

“Okay, but there’s a field for the name, did they fill it out?”

“How am I supposed to know who they are from a name though?”

“Oh my god, kid, you schmooze,” Umida says. “You roll up to their table, you lay on the customer service thick and introduce yourself and ask their names. People are idiots, they’ll tell you, just like that.”

Jerome cocks his head in contemplation. “Yeah okay, but no, there’s no name. It’s blank.”

“But you made a form,” Mere mock whispers.

Umida turns on her, her eyeshadow catching the bar lights as she narrows her eyes. “This is not the form’s fault, don’t you blame this on the form! The form has a field for a name! The form provides!”

“The form is flawless,” Mere agrees quickly, running her hand down Umida’s arm soothingly. “You can’t account for user error.”

Umida glares harder before looking up to the ceiling in supplication.

Mere, who has never in her life been able to resist picking at a scab, asks, “what table is it?”

Jerome checks the paper. “34.”

“The cursed table. The cursed lesbians!” Mere gasps, squirming out of the way when Umida tries to pinch her side.

“Well it’s not like the kid is a contender, so it’s 50/50,” Umida points out. “Much better odds than last time.”

“And to be fair, if the wrong guy gets the flute, he can just improvise and propose with the ring in hand,” Mere continues. “Overall, much less exciting drama than last time. 3/10 for me.”

“Thank god. Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerome walks away with his marching orders and Umida turns to Mere. “I have to actually go work. You gonna hang out here?” She’s off in a half hour and they have tickets to the back row of the latest Marvel nonsense.

“I got booze, olives, and an unobstructed view of my favourite drama. I’m all set.” In lieu of a proper kiss, Mere lifts Umida’s hand and kisses her wrist, delighting in watching her girlfriend’s eyes soften. She blows Mere a kiss and flits away to put out fires.

Mere is usually on her phone while she waits for Umida but tonight she watches table 34. The guys — Eddie and Buck, Umida reminded her — are across the table from each other, Eddie is relaxed in his chair but Buck is leaning forward, elbows on the table as he tells their son a story that has him cackling in his seat. They’re not holding hands, but anyone looking can see they’re together. They have ridiculous heart eyes for each other, and from her vantage point she can see those long legs intermingling again, one knee occasionally jostling into the other. Little tangible reminders that they’re there and together.

She saw hints of this that night, and to see it have taken hold and blossomed...suddenly she’s really invested in them having a great night. One of them planned this night out, wanted to surprise the other, and she doesn’t want that going to waste because of a blank field on a form.

Mere’s wearing a dark long-sleeve blouse, not too far off the dress code, so slips off the counter, snags the backup apron they always leave behind the bar and ties it around her waist. One of the newbies whose name she doesn’t know watches her from the host pedestal and Mere raises a fierce eyebrow at them until they go back to minding their own business.

She rinses out a jug and fills it with water and ice and slips back into her customer service posture to make the rounds of the tables in section 10.

“Well now, I recognize you handsome folk, don’t I?” she schmoozes when she gets to table 34, picking up Eddie’s glass first to fill.

Eddie doesn’t place her and she doesn’t blame him, he was under a lot of stress that night. It takes Buck a second but he gets it.

“Oh hey, yeah! Weren’t you — “ Buck cuts himself off awkwardly and casts an eye to Eddie and the kid. “You, ah, gave us our meals for free! Because of the, um, mix-up.”

That’s enough for Eddie to place her, and where Buck relaxes back into his chair as she fills his glass, Eddie goes stock still.

Bingo.

“What mix-up?” the kid asks.

“Ah, they put something in our drink by accident,” Buck lies without lying. “Real choking hazard! So they gave us our meals for free.”

“That’s dangerous,” the kid says.

“It was dangerous,” Mere agrees, filling his glass. “Choking hazard was right. Could have turned a really great night all wrong with a trip to the hospital.”

Eddie’s brow furrows slightly and Mere struggles to keep a neutral face.

“It’s never a good idea to hide things in food. I don’t know why people keep trying instead of just calling us for advice. We have tons of ways to help people with surprises.”

“I completely agree,” Buck says. “We’re actually firefighters and you wouldn’t believe how many accidental choking calls we get.”

Eddie swallows, his eyes looking mildly panicked.

“Firefighters!” Mere schmoozes harder, smiling at the kid as he gets excited again. “Well I certainly feel safer then.”

“Ah, you probably shouldn’t. I was actually one of those calls once,” Buck says halfway through a smile and grimace, pointing to his throat where there’s a faint scar. “Emergency tracheotomy on the floor of a restaurant. But that wasn’t a surprise, just, ah, too enthusiastic about the breadsticks.”

Eddie’s looking decidedly gray now, eyes laser focused on the scar.

“Okay, well I’ll just go ahead and clear these,” Mere says, jokingly reaching for the bread basket until Buck laughs back.

“I’m better now, promise! Small bites, chewed thoroughly!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she dithers dramatically, nodding to the kid. “If I leave those here, can I trust you to keep an eye on your dad?”

“Yeah!” the kid agrees with a toothy grin.

Buck’s cheeks redden quickly but he’s still smiling, his head ducked shyly in a way Mere doubts is due to her teasing. Eddie, meanwhile, is still looking poleaxed though fondness is fighting its way back in.

“Well, I was just subbing into this section so this will be goodbye for us but it was great to see you guys! Enjoy your evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Buck says with an easy smile. Eddie manages a “thank you” and Mere has to restrain herself from patting his shoulder as she walks away.

She’s only just returned the apron to the bar when she sees Eddie walk in and head straight for the host before being led to the back.

“Ready to go?” Umida asks, back in her unsensible heels and cross-chest messenger bag.

Mere takes the hand she extends but tugs her closer instead of following her out, before saying the worst thing she’s ever said in her life, “Actually, do you mind if we stick around a little longer?”

“Something good about to happen?” she asks, peeking out the window.

Mere tugs her in closer and leans her chin on her shoulder. “I think so.”

Twenty minutes later, when Jerome passes by with a tray of assorted chocolate treats and two overturned coffee cups, Mere and Umida find themselves bracketed by half the front and back staff. Gossip still spreads like wildfire it seems.

Buck’s overturned coffee cup and plate is the last thing Jerome puts on the table, and as soon as it’s down, he excuses himself. He keeps a professional pace until he’s past the exterior doors and then he’s racing to take a front seat at the bar.

Eddie turns over his cup but doesn’t reach for the carafe, he wipes his hands on his jeans instead.

“Oh my god, he’s so nervous,” Jerome whispers.

“The kid is so in on it,” the host whose name Mere never caught says, and they’re right. Where Eddie’s tensed up, the kid is bouncing in his seat like he knows something’s coming.

“Come on, guy,” a bus boy mutters, checking his watch. His break is almost over.

Mere’s heart is beating hard in sympathy with Eddie’s as they all watch Buck ignore his coffee cup in favor of serving their kid from the tray. Then he signals to Eddie’s plate, who can’t not lift it for the offered chocolate tortes. Finally, there’s chocolate on everyone’s plates and Buck sits back to try a piece of brownie and Eddie can’t take it anymore.

He motions to the carafe and Buck perks up, finally reaching for his cup. But just as his fingers close around it, some idiot’s dog barks on the sideway, calling his attention away. His fingers flip the cup without ever looking at it, or the plate underneath it.

“Oh come on,” Umida moans.

The dog passes with its dumbass owner and Buck puts his cup back down, or tries to, but finds something in the way. He tries again, pushing the intrusion away with the bottom of the cup.

“Oh my god,” is whined in Mere’s left ear and when she turns her head she’s surprised to find not another Tilted Cactus employee but a customer dressed to the nines, pearls and all.

“Ma’am, did you —”

“Shh,” the woman returns, her eyes never moving from the window. Mere turns back too.

Finally, Buck has managed to push the offending items off the plate and settle his cup down and it’s a nail-biting few seconds where it actually looks like he’s going to reach for the carafe and go about his business.

But like a true wingman, the little kid points directly at it, prompting Buck to push the napkin aside and pick up — the ring.

Buck freezes, holding the ring between his thumb and index. His cheeks flush and a smile begins to break over his face before he looks startled and the smile falls abruptly away.

It’s about this time Eddie realizes that proposing by recreating the night they got together was never going to be the best idea when the impetus to their relationship was an engagement ring accidentally sent to the wrong person.

Eddie vaults out of his seat and into the empty one next to Buck, wrapping his hand around the one holding the ring, and bringing his other hand to his cheek to gently turn his head until Buck is looking at him. They can’t tell what he says, but they can watch Buck’s eyes fill with tears, watch as Eddie gestures to their son who’s smiling wide and reaching out for a hand, which Buck instantly provides. His attention comes back to Eddie then, who’s saying something that gets them both looking a little fragile and it’s hard to say if he actually popped the question yet but Buck is surging forward to kiss him hard and fast. Eddie gives as good as he’s getting for a moment before he slows them with small, gentle kisses. And when they finally break apart, Eddie plucks the ring from Buck’s fingers and slides it onto his ring finger as Buck watches, his eyes wide and half incredulous.

Outside, the nearby tables break out into applause, startling the trio and reminding the two men that they are indeed out in public. Eddie acknowledges the applause with an embarrassed hand and waits until they have a modicum of privacy again before taking Buck’s hand and kissing right near the where the ring now sits. He then reluctantly shuffles back into his seat.

Inside, Mere is hugging Umida to her with a strength buoyed by love. Around them, the staff are starting to disperse, some wiping their eyes, some with goofy grins on their faces.

“Young man,” the lady in the pearls says to Jerome, holding out her credit card, “I want you to charge that family’s meal to my card.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s very generous of you.”

The woman sniffs delicately and leaves without another word. Hopefully Jerome knows where she was sitting…

“I’m glad she did that,” Mere says into Umida’s shoulder, “I was going to, otherwise, and I’m a broke-ass student.”

“I would have pitched in,” Umida says, her voice soft and pensive. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mere agrees, sliding off the bar counter for the last time. “Oh, hold on.”

She gets closer to the window and turns the flash off of her camera before taking a pic.

“I think that’s bordering on creepy now,” Umida says without judgement.

“It’s not for me.” Mere sends the pic off with a note and three ring emojis.

They don’t make it out of the restaurant before her phone dings.

“What does Tomas have to say?” Umida asks with a smirk.

Mere pulls up the text and reads, “Gays and lesbians. Both, at the same time. Never doubting Umida’s gaydar again.”

Umida laughs victoriously, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, and Mere lets her drag her by the hand down the street, letting the nostalgia from tonight settle in her chest.

If there’s anything she misses from working the restaurant scene, it’s getting this glimpse into people’s lives.

Yeah, most of the work was gross, obnoxious, or mind-numbing. But every now and again, she got to be a part of strangers’ stories. Got to be there for the happiest days like graduations, or bridal showers. And even the sadder stories could be beautiful sometimes, like when she got to be extra kind to the elderly woman coming into the restaurant alone for the first time in ten years, or watch a family have their last supper together before their kid moves away for school. It’s just all so human and some kind of wonderful.

She hopes her career as a paramedic will have just a little bit of that kind of magic.

[bored-mumma]

Sebastian Stan - Fluff Alphabet

MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes version

A = Attractive. What do they find attractive about the other?

He loves your passion. How even little things in life can get you excited and happy. He also loves your strong will. You two being in the lime light takes a strong personality and you match that perfectly.

B = Baby. Do they want a family? Why/Why not?

He really wants kids. He likes to imagine Sunday mornings, your children waking you up and you all making breakfast before spending the day playing games and just being a close family. Nothing makes him happier than thinking of his future family.

C = Cuddle. How do they cuddle?

No matter how warm the nights get, Sebastian likes to be snuggled entirely under the blankets. Usually one of you will be spooning the other but if its too hot then just either your legs or arms are slightly tangled.

D = Dates. What are dates with them like?

Sebastian doesn’t do ‘little’ dates. He sweeps you off your feet every single time. You’ll come home from work expecting a normal evening at home to find some new fancy clothes and jewellery lying down on your bed, along with a note telling you what time to be ready by. Bang on time, Sebastian knocks on the door (you live together but why not be romantic and come pick you up like he used too) with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Before driving to a beautiful restaurant, champagne sitting there waiting. All evening he would throw compliments at you, repeating his love. If you felt like it, you two would go for a walk along the sea front or just drive randomly and talk away.

E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my light.

F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?

He couldn’t really give a proper time when he knew he was falling for you. It just kind of happened! He knew he missed you when you were gone, even if you spent all day together. He knew he dreamt of waking up to your face everyday and he knew his heart skipped a beat every time you kissed him. One day he just realised ‘holy shit, i love you’.

H = Holding Hands. How do they like to hold hands?

I = Impression. First impression/s?

You two got along very well. Your personalities just clicked and the two of you became friends fast. It took a few months, but that friendship soon turned into love.

J- Joker. Are they into pulling pranks?

He loves them, a lot more than you did. Barely a day went by that Sebastian didn’t play some sort of joke on you. Usually you find it funny and playful but other days you want to slap his pretty face.

K = Kiss. How do they kiss?

Most of the time Sebastian will hold your chin with his finger and thumb, tilt your head up and kiss you deeply. Although sometimes he’ll be a little more rough and grab your waist, pulling you towards him.

L = Love. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

You do. After a particularly breath taking date and nearly six months together, you finally felt as though you were ready to say those words. When you uttered those words, Sebastian grinned at you before saying it back.

M = Memory. What’s their favourite memory together?

You two were walking home from a lovely date night a restaurant. You both had a few drinks so couldn’t drive and you were struggling to catch a taxi so decided to take a longer walk across the parks. It was a stunning night and half way home, he placed his jacket on the ground and the two of you lied down, watching the stars and resting your feet. Feeling merry anyway from the drinks flowing through you, you lied there for nearly an hour, just joking together and sharing kisses.  Going from the last letter, this was the moment you looked up at each other and said I love you for the first time. 

N = Nickel. Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?

You are so, so spoilt. Literally anything your eyes land on, Sebastian will buy it for you. Even stuff you had never seen or even heard of, if he thinks you’ll like it, he’ll buy it, Date night? He’s got you some new clothes and jewellery for it. Anniversary? You cant see the floor in your home from all the gifts. And birthdays are just insane with the amount of stuff he gets you.

O = Orange. What colour reminds them of their other half?

Sky Blue. A lovely calm, stunning colour that reminds him of summer days. Days he loved to spend with you. He would often buy you some sky blue jewellery, making a matching dress too. 

P = Petnames. What petnames do they use?

You two are cringe as hell and like to think of the most sickening names for each other as possible. Bunny, sugar-plum, precious. Just as cringy as possible to make each other laugh.

Q = Quaint. What is their favourite non-modern thing?

Sebastian's a simple man and loves the simple things. One of those things is a gentle bike ride. On a hot day with the cold breeze cooling him, he loved to just bike through the country and forget about life's trouble for a while.

R = Rainy Day

A busy man leads a busy life. Rain or shine, his days barely change. Although on the rare days you both have a day together with nothing to do and its pouring it down outside, he was known to drag you out in it. Whether to just dance in the back garden or to go for a quick run, Sebastian loved to just be out in the rain for a while with you. It felt like a reset for you both and it was those moments you treasured the most.

S = Sad. How do they cheer themselves/others up?

As most people know, Sebastian talks to his therapist often. You try not to pry too much, knowing if he wants to share his feelings with you, he will. But you can always tell when he’s feeling a bit down. It’s usually cured with a cup of tea, cuddles and you dragging your nails gently across his skin to make him feel relaxed. Sometimes he’ll talk to you about what’s bothering him, other times he just wants to feel your touch.

T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?

You two are low key conspiracy theorists. You will often find you both having deep conversations about a theory you saw online or about a new documentary. Whether it was something like aliens exist all the way to the queen is a lizard, you two would have debated on it. 

U = Unencumbered. What helps them relax?

As said above, he loves to feel your nails dragging across his skin. He felt most relaxed when lying in bed on his stomach, you lying beside him and dragging your nails along his spine. He would get Goosebumps from it and always felt like he could fall asleep right there and then.

V = Vaunt. What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

You and your career! Sebastian was your number one fan and would brag about your acting success every chance he could. Even if he’s doing an interview about his own movie, he’ll still slip in there how proud he is of your new project. He couldn’t help it.

W = Wedding. When, how, where do they propose?

It was your two year anniversary and you two decided to take a week off of work. Nothing special planned, just a week to relax and actually get to enjoy one another's company. Sebastian watched you with admiration as you cooked dinner, watching the way you sung along to the radio and how you refused to let him help, insisting on spoiling him. As you stood at the stove, Sebastian walked to the bedroom and grabbed a little box from his bedside drawers. Going back to the kitchen, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

“This wasn’t how i planned it,” He said, letting go of your slightly to open the box and show a beautiful ring. “But i couldn't wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

X = Xylophone. What’s their song?

wonderful tonight - Eric Clapton

Y = You. You are the ___ to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the honey to my bee.

Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?

Sebastian has always wanted a dog! You two ended up adopting a puppy together.

[backtothefanfiction]

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 3

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: When you find yourself stranded at a bar, Will is luckily on hand to take you home.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!!! The smut train is back kids, you have been warned. This chapter features strong language and scenes of a sexual nature. (oral male receiving, unprotected sex {you know the old saying kids, don’t be silly})

Word Count: 4815

A/N- This ones for the Will Miller fans. I’ve just come from a very chaotic work shift so I cannot wait to get all your wonderful feedback as always to make me feel better. I also want to take a moment to give some unspoken subtext for clarity due to some of the aspects of this chapter. Reader is very open about their body and so all TF gents are aware of birth control situation and that reader is protected in that way. Also I have never been on a motorbike so take this chapter as creative license and forgive me. I also just want to say I have written the Italy chapter which will be coming to you Monday. It is a fucking monster (pardon my language) and I can’t wait for you all to read it, but for now enjoy chapter three.

PART THREE | 6 MONTHS LATER

You and Santiago's had both gone on missions mere days later which saw you away from home for a good six months. When you got back you found that Santi had come back for a few weeks about a month ago but had had to take off again before you'd had a chance to see him.

You had been back for a couple of days and decided to organise an evening at your favourite local bar with your sister for a catch up. You sat on the bar stool waiting anxiously, the bar tender giving you looks of pity ever couple of minutes. You're phone, which you had placed on the bar top pinged and you eagerly checked the text on the screen. 'Sorry, something came up with Jared and I'm not gonna make it. Can we take a rain check?' you slammed your phone back onto the bar top as you let out a small animalistic grunt of frustration.

“Well you look like you're nights going just as well as mine is.” came a familiar voice from beside you. You looked up to find Will taking the seat beside you. “When did you get back?” he asked an arm coming out to wrap around you, pulling you into him.

“Two days ago.” you said into his ear, your head resting comfortably against the top of his shoulder as you hugged him. “What are you doing here?” you asked him as you pulled your arms back, shifting yourself on your bar stool to get a better look at him.

“Shitty date.” he said.

“I didn't realise you were putting yourself back out there.” you said, your fingers reaching to fiddle with your glass in front of you.

“Yeah, well I can't mope around forever.” he sighed deeply. “You want another one?” he questioned, pointing to the now empty glass in your hand.

“Uh, I was supposed to be meeting my sister but she bailed on me.” you began to explain.

“Shitty husband?”

“Shitty husband.” you confirmed. Will was well versed in your family drama. He'd once had to break up a fight between your sister's husband and Benny at a BBQ when Jared had gotten drunk and decided to challenge Benny. It had not been pretty.

“Still you want to stick around for another drink with me or...?” He let the question hang openly in the air between you.

“Sure.” you said. “I mean it'll probably take a while before I can get a taxi home anyway.”

“I've got my bike outside if you want me to give you a lift back, save you spending money on cab. I mean if you don't mind the bike that is?”

You thought about it a moment looking back down at your glass before looking back up to meet his eyes again. “Uh yeah, okay. That'll be great. Thanks.” you said. He turned and gave the bar tender a nod, grabbing you two more drinks.

“So what have I missed?” you asked.

“Well, Pope came back last month. I hadn't seen him since we all went out for Benny's birthday.” you raised your eyebrows in disbelief. “Yeah. We hung out with him a bit while he was back. Kept going on about some girl he'd slept with that night, saying it was the best sex he'd ever had. Brought it up any chance he could get.” you snorted and choked slightly as your drink went down the wrong hole, the statement leaving you shocked. “Hey, you okay?” Will said, a hand gently patting your back.

“Uh yeah. I'm fine, just went down the wrong hole.” you coughed, wiping at your face with your sleeve. “Um did he say when he was coming back next.”

“No. I think he said maybe four months but he said it could be longer depending. What about you? How long you back for?” he questioned.

“Not sure yet.” you replied. “Until the next assignment comes in I guess.”

You carried on talking like that for another 40 minutes, the conversation flowing easily. “Hey you ready to go?” he asked when he noticed you'd finished your drink.

“Uh yeah, of course.”

You followed Will out the front to where his bike was sat waiting. He handed you his spare helmet. “You bring this just in case your date went well?” you teased him, poking him with the helmet before you began placing it on your head.

“Yeah, something like that.” he said, giving you a sheepish grin. He hooked his leg over the bike and you climbed on behind him, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso. “When's the last time you were on a bike?” he asked you as the bike roared to life beneath you.

“Probably Columbia, two years ago.” you shouted over the noise. You felt his body shake as he let out a laugh. He was about to enjoy this.

He took off quickly, speeding out of the parking lot, catching you off guard making you let out a squeal as you took a moment to find your balance. You felt his stomach move beneath your fingers as he let out another chuckle at your expense. You gave him a playful slap before resting your head against his back, easing into the feeling of the air around you and the hum of the engine between your legs. You wrapped your arms tighter around him and buried your nose into him, breathing in his smell. Will always smelt good. He took a hand off one of the handle bars, brushing the back of your hand gently, reassuringly, before securing it back to the bike. The feeling had sent a buzz through your skin and you couldn't help but be aware of the way it passed through your body. You felt a fluttering feeling between your legs and you bit your lip. Uh Oh. No, no this was not happening, this couldn't be happening. You were getting turned on by this.

You quickly adjusted your hold around him, trying to focus and ground yourself but your hand ended up brushing against his crotch. It had only been a brief second but it had made you flinch in embarrassment and you wrapped your arms around him even tighter, pulling yourself forward on the bike, grinding into his butt between your legs. Shit! If he hadn't felt your hand brush against his cock he had definitely felt that. You braced yourself as he stopped at a red light, your breath held tightly in your chest. You nibbled your lip anxiously, your eye's squeezing shut waiting for him to do something, mock you or chastise you. What he did do next surprised you.

He took his hand off the handle bar again, his fingers searching for yours across his abs. He wrapped his hand around them, lifting it gently away from where you had been holding him and intentionally moving your hand down, placing it over the growing bulge in his jeans. You lifted your head up to look at him, but he kept his eyes forward. He let go of your hand, reaching to run his fingers along your thigh, resting against the side of the bike. You licked your lips nervously. What was happening right now?

The traffic light before you turned amber and Will placed his hand back on the handle bars, revving the engine of the bike in preparation but also sending a flood of extra vibrations through the bike that buzzed against your core. You couldn't fault the Captain, he knew exactly what he was doing.

You still had one hand around his waist and one hand over his cock, when he pulled up outside your place. There was a sudden silence as the engine cut out and he climbed off the bike. You couldn't help but watch him intently. Will was more of a man of action than a man of words. He took off his helmet, threading it onto the handle bars, before turning towards you and leaning against the bike. His arms folded before you as he waited for you to gingerly take your own helmet off, not once breaking eye contact with him.

“So what do you wanna do?” he finally asked when you had decided to remain silent. You licked your lips as you thought over the best way to respond.

“Do you want to come in?” was the line you finally decided on, but your voice was timid, it lacked conviction. You wanted him to take control. He nodded slightly before taking a step back, allowing you some room to attempt to get off the bike as gracefully as you could. You placed the helmet on the seat, while Will put his hands in his pockets. He fiddled with his keys as he attempted to hide his nervousness.

He'd be lying to himself if he had said he'd never thought about you in that way before. Seeing you in a bikini when you had all taken a trip to the beach. When you had gone out dancing for his birthday and chosen the skimpiest dress in your closet to wear. On lazy Sundays when you had stayed over at his and Benny's place, your tiny pyjama shorts riding up as you reached for things off the top shelves of their kitchen cabinets. That's exactly where his eyes fell now as he followed you up to your apartment. Your jeans hugging your ass just right as you walked up the stairs ahead of him.

You gave him a sheepish smile as you unlocked the door, ushering him inside. The silence was filled with the clicking of light switches as you began to switch on lamps, creating a cosy atmosphere. He was so stealthy you hadn't notice him come up behind you until you turn and was faced with his chest. You slowly lifted your eyes up, your head tilting to allow you to look at his lips, then up further to his eyes. “Just tell me if you want to stop.” he said before placing his finger under your chin, guiding your face closer to his.

You couldn't even call it a kiss the way his lips barely grazed yours but it was electric, sending shivers throughout your whole body making you want to throw yourself at him. He whispered your name against your lips, a question, he wanted you to answer the previous statement.

You gave your head a slight shake. “No.” your voice was quiet. “No, I don't want to stop.” you closed the gap between his lips and your own, your hands snaking up to wrap around his neck. He wrapped his arms around your lower back, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss. You exhaled deeply through your nose as you let out a breath you hadn't realised you'd been holding.

Will brought one of his hands up, to brush away the hair that was falling over the side of your face, getting in the way. He tucked it behind your ear, before letting his fingers rest around the base of your head, his thumb grazing your jaw. You found yourself moaning hungrily into the kiss, but then a thought crossed your mind that made your rapidly break away. “Wait, wait.” you said breathlessly. He dropped his hold around the back of your head and leaned back to get a better look at you. He waited silently for you to continue as you caught your breath. “There's something I have to tell you.” you said licking your lips, already missing the feeling of his against them. You relaxed your hands from around his neck, allowing them to rest on his shoulders and you were glad when he didn't try and pull away. “I was the girl Santiago slept with after Benny's birthday.” you said trying to make your words as calm as possible.

Of all the things Will was expecting you to say, it was not that. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he lowered his head slightly shaking it. You weren't sure if it was a grin on his face or a grimace. “I just thought I should say. I don't want to make things complicated between you guys.”

He took a step back from you, a small huffed chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand up through his hair. Your face fell to the floor. Shit you'd fucked this up. You shouldn't have said anything. “Does this change everything?” you asked timidly to the floor.

Will chuffed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” he asked stepping forward to you, making you look up at him. “If you heard the way he talks about that night. You think I'd give up the chance to experience that?” Your eyes looked at him hopefully. He closed the space between you, smashing his lips into yours, his hands planted firmly either side of your face, not allowing you to get away from him. You flung your arms around his neck and he dropped his own hands down to cup underneath your ass. He lifted you up into his arms seamlessly and began carrying you towards your bedroom.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed so you were straddling his lap. You broke off the kiss, reaching down to lift your shirt up over your head, throwing it across the room, Will following your actions quickly took off his own. He took a moment to take in your boobs, his hands reaching up to grab them, leading your body back closer to his so he could attach his lips to yours again. You fixed your hands around his shoulders, pushing them backwards towards the bed. Your lips followed his the whole way down, your hair falling around both your faces.

You reluctantly broke your lips away, leaning back to flick your hair out of the way, but also to give your hands the space to move between your two bodies as you began to unbutton his jeans. You slid yourself backwards off of Will and the bed, your knees hitting the carpet as you pulled both his jeans and pants down at the same time, his hips lifting slightly allowing you to get them off easier.

You pulled the items of clothing off of his ankles throwing them behind you. You were aware of him shifting slightly on the bed and looked up to find he'd propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you on the floor before him. His gaze made you pause a moment, fully taking him in. All of you had been out of active service for years but Will looked exactly the same as he had at the height of his career. You knew his younger brother took good care of his body, what with him now having a ‘somewhat’ career as a prize fighter, but you hadn't realised just how well Will had maintained his muscular physique.

You let your eyes drop from his piercing eyes, letting them trail down the defined lines of his chest then abs, until finally they landed on his half ready member. You looked back up to his eyes, keeping eye contact with him as you sat yourself up properly again, his legs adjusting slightly to allow you a better position between them as your hand slowly raked up the muscles of his thighs until they reached the prize that lay patiently waiting for you at the top of them.

You watched intently as Will's head dropped backwards, his eyes closing in bliss at the feeling of your hands wrapping around his cock, your gentle grasp slowly working him up.  A small grin began to take over your face in reaction to the feeling of his member growing and getting ever harder under your controlled touch, a sensation of power taking over you.

Will let out a breathy groan of satisfaction as he suddenly felt your tongue, swipe up his entire length. “Fuck.” he exclaimed as he pulled his head back up to look at you, one of his arms reaching out to place a caring hand around the side of your head, guiding you as you began to take his length into your mouth. You both made an effort to keep eye contact as you bobbed up and down on his dick but Will lost it when you took him to the point he hit the back of your throat and you gagged slightly. His eyes closed as his head hung back in bliss again. For a moment it felt like he'd died and gone to heaven and it took him a second to put himself back into the room. He couldn't believe this was happening.

You pulled back, allowing yourself a moment to breath, as you used your hand to continue working at his saliva covered cock. Will looked down at you once more and before you had a chance to take his length into your mouth again, he was sitting himself up, reaching his hands out for your face, pulling you into a deep kiss instead. He made you stand up straight and you had to let go of his cock as his fingers brushed down your body until he reached the waistband of your pants. You stared down at him in silence as his fingers began undoing the buttons of your jeans. He leant forward to leave kisses across your stomach as he gently pulled down your jeans and underwear at the same time, just like you had for him. His lips tickled against your skin and you found your hands reaching out to steady yourself against his shoulders as your eyes closed, head relaxing due to the sensation passing from his touch that sent a fuzzy feeling all the way up to the very tip top of your skull.

You felt the fabric pool thickly at your ankles and you maintained your hold on his shoulders as you pulled your feet free from the tangle of denim that engulfed them. He tossed the jeans out of the way with one hand, the other taking a firm hold of your hip, his thumb circling across the bare skin. “Will.” his name fell breathily from your lips and he looked up to take you in, his other hand coming to rest on your other hip, his hold becoming firmer.

“Come here.” his voice came back, gentle yet commanding as he pulled you back onto the bed on top of him as he lay back against the mattress. His hands came up to grasp either side of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair as he pulled your lips down against his own. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and you happily relaxed further into his mouth, your tongue coming out to gently melt against his.

You felt his hips grind up into you, his erection rubbing against your clit sending a sensation through your core and you sighed into him. He used the opportunity to suck your lower lip in between his lips, pulling at it slightly, only intensifying the feeling growing between your legs. You felt one of his arms reach around your lower back and before you could even acknowledge the feeling of his other hand becoming firmer on the back of your head, you found your whole body being flipped round, Will settling himself on top of you between your thighs.

He manoeuvred his arm out from under your back so he could run his hand up the length of your leg, encouraging it to wrap around his side. You broke away from his lips to look intensely into his eyes in anticipation. He brushed his thumb across your cheek with the hand that still cradles your head while his other hand lines himself up with your entrance. You exhale sharply when you feel him drag his cock through your slick folds, the tip nudging your sensitive clit. You feel the hand against your cheek grow firmer as he forces you to keep eye contact with him as he gently eases himself into you, your mouth hanging open in a silent gasp as you adjust to his size. You pursed your lips together and you watched as Will's eyes followed the movement before he smashed his lips back against them, his hips rolling himself deeper inside you. You let out another gasp against his lips at the sensation. “Ah fuck.” you breathed the words against his mouth as he gave you a moment to adjust, the hand against your face smoothing your hair back.

You began moulding your lips to him once more and he took that as his sign to begin slowly thrusting his cock in and out of you. He was in the perfect position without even trying, his cock dragging against your gspot with every agonisingly slow thrust. You brought your hands up either side of his face and pushed his forehead into your own as your mouth hung open, breathing becoming laboured. His pace was torturous, controlled, making you feel every motion his cock made inside you. He forced you to continue looking at him, his eyes watching your every facial expression carefully, forcing you to stay in this moment with him, to be aware of every sensation and remember who it was who was making you feel that way.

This wasn't just some quick shag or one night stand, this was a friend making love to another friend. Just like Santiago before him, Will didn't know if this would ever happen again between you and he wanted to make sure he savoured every second. Wanted you to know the love he had for you. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted you to remember this moment and how he made you feel in it.

Your hips began to squirm as your orgasm steadily built in your core, desperate for something more, desperate for that release. “Will please?” you breathlessly begged against his lips. Will grunted at hearing you begging for him to make you cum, but he didn't want to rush this. He felt your back arch as you tried to change the angle slightly, drive him deeper, reach that release. He snaked his arm around your back, pulling you tighter to his body, lifting you from the bed. Your hold around his neck became tighter and you buried your head into his shoulder as he lifted you up, his cock still deeply inside you.

He turned you both around and he sat on the bed, pulling you down even further onto his cock. The new position really allowed you to grind down into him but forced you to maintain the slower pace Will wanted to keep. “Oh my god.” you groaned into his neck, your head still firmly buried into the crook of his neck. He kept both his arms firmly around your back, forcing your body to remain tightly to him, guiding you as you moved up and down on his cock. The feeling that had built inside you was fit to burst and when he lifted his hips and thrust up into you, you lost out. Your orgasm was shattering and you buried your head even deeper into his neck, your eyes firmly screwed up, tears threatening to spill out of the corner creases from how sensitive you felt.

Will continued to slowly thrust up into you, his arm wrapped around you tightly making you maintain the slow steady rhythm you had created together. Your clit dragged across his skin from how close your bodies were and it did nothing but increase the orgasm taking over you. You're moans of pleasure came out stuttering between breaths as you felt yourself clamped tightly around his cock. You were so earth shatteringly aware of everything.

You forced yourself up straight, wanting to look directly into Will's eyes, allowing him to see the devastation and bliss he was causing you. His lips attached hungrily to yours at the sight. He felt your overstimulated body stutter and freeze, desperate for a break but he wasn't done with you yet. As you tried to take a moment to let your orgasm pass and compose yourself once more ready to do it again, Will lay himself back down upon the bed. With you're arms still wrapped tightly around his neck you happily let your body relax with him, resting against him, your head finding a home in the crook of his neck once more, taking in deep breaths.

He had allowed you maybe two seconds to appreciate and acknowledge your come down before his arms tightened around you, holding you in place against his chest as he brought his legs up onto the bed. He dug his heels into the mattress and began thrusting up into you at a rapid speed. Your fingers clawed at his skin as you felt another orgasm rapidly building inside you once more. You cried out as the sensation took over you once more, your body practically going limp. You attempted to use his shoulders as leverage to prop yourself up, hoping a change in angle would lessen the sensitivity in your fluttering cunt. Will reached up to take your face in his hands. You're arms went weak and gave out slightly and you were grateful that Will did have a hold of your head, to keep it up right.

He maintained each devastating thrust and watching as your eyes became unfocussed, completely cock dumb for him. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. “Ah fuck.” he grunted as his thrust became sloppy, his own release so fucking close with how you were looking at him like that. You whispered his name and he lost it completely, his thrusts stuttering as he quickly pulled out, his own release over taking him as he closed his eyes, pushing his head back into the mattress.

He gently released your head from his hold and you relaxed it against his shoulder, your back arched inward, your breathes heavy and laboured as you worked through your come down. Will let out a deep breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and turned his head to try and get a better look at you. Almost like you sensed what he was trying to do, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. A goofy grin broke out across his face.

You attempted to climb off his lap but your legs were spent and wobbled like a new born deer. He laughed at you as you collapsed onto the bed beside him. “That was,” your voice said heavily beside him, you laughed a giddy feeling from your orgasm washing over you. He propped himself up to look at your face but you just turned it away from him, burying it into the bed, bashful. He laughed at you again before mustering as much energy as he could to stand and go find something to clean you both up with.

When he came back into the room, damp cloth in hand, he watched you intensely, a smile plastered across your face, as you still struggled to make eye contact with him. Your still overstimulated core was making you rub your legs together in an attempt to channel the energy there. He let out a chuckle, he had never had this reaction from being with a girl before and the fact it was you made him feel even more special.

You finally met his eyes and smiled back at him. He felt like you were reading his mind and he too now felt bashful. He tossed the cloth he'd been fiddling with between his fingers at you in an attempt to stop the silent conversation that was going on between you. You caught the rag between your fingers, your body rolling slightly and relaxing as you took him in, your gaze softening.

Neither of you needed to say anything. You both knew what this was. It was a comfortable curiosity. You were his best friend and he was yours. There was no doubt of the platonic love you had for one another and now you just had a greater appreciation for each other.

You cleaned yourself up as Will pulled his boxers back on, before climbing back onto the bed with you. You tossed the cloth across the room, aiming for your hamper but it missed landing on the floor as Will wrapped an arm around you. You cuddled into him, your head resting against his shoulder, his fingers drawing lazy circles across your skin. “I love you.” you said softly but confidently.

“I know.” he said back, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head, a content smile fixed permanently to his face.

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

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Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 8/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Or on FF

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Chapter 8: Overstepping Lines

Henry sat at the dinner table at his dad’s place, stabbing his fork at the hardened piece of meat on his plate.

“Not hungry, kid?”

He looked up and shrugged, “Not really.”

“How did that reading fair go at your school?”

“Really good. Mom and Killian both came which was neat.”

“That guy from your apartment.” He snorted. “Already moved on to a new one, huh?”

“Killian is my friend. I invited him.”

“You just invited an adult to your school thing? You know you really need to learn to play with kids your own age. Your mom lets you spend too much time with William as it is.”

“I have friends, dad. But the apartment is like family.”

“Yeah so I’ve been told.” He grumbled. “You know I was thinking about talking to your mom about you staying here a bit more often.” Henry dropped his fork on his plate.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t you want to spend more time with me?”

Henry rested his head in his hands, a pout forming on his face. “How will you have time with all your business trips?”

“Hey buddy, I told you that was an important trip.”

“Yeah, I know. I remember. Can I be excused? I’m not feeling very well.”

Henry got up from the table and retreated to the small room at the end of the hall that was filled with boxes and a small mattress on the floor that he slept on when he visited. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his dad, but when he was here, his dad just didn’t seem all that interested in knowing anything about him. He seemed to only want to have him around when his guests came for a visit. All the women that his dad brought home seemed really impressed that Neal was taking care of a kid.

He opened his book, pulling the pencil from the spot he had left off and thought about the next part of his story.

Henry watched as the Captain led his mother toward the small house on the end of town. They knocked on the door and waited but no one seemed to be home. Captain Jones disappeared around the back of the home, looking for a way inside.

Henry leaned against the tree, his thoughts swirling about the information he had learned. His father was alive. This Swan Thief man that he had heard about, his photos plastered around the town with the wanted posters offering a reward. How could this man be his father? How could his mother have been with a man who was currently wanted dead or alive?

His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling sound, and he turned quickly to see someone dashing behind him.

“Hello son.”

The man stood in front of him, his hands held out as if he were to welcome him with a hug.

“Who are you?”

“I just told ya kid. I’m your father. I’m Baelfire. Your mother has kept you from me for so long. But not anymore. I’ve come to find you.”

Henry stepped back. “Stay away from me. You’re not a good man.”

“It’s all hearsay boy. You can trust me.”

Henry turned toward the house just outside the tree line, opened his mouth to warn his mother, when everything around him went black.

Emma waited impatiently on the doorstep for the Captain to get into the house. She tapped her foot anxiously.

“No one is home.” The door opened and Captain Jones appeared in the door frame, a smug look on his face.

Emma pushed past him into the home, yanking the rug from the floor and pulling on the hidden door hidden below. “He got into the castle through here.”

They heard a noise down below and looked up at each other. “Did you hear that?”

He pushed past her, descending into the darkness as Emma followed him down the ladder. “Over here Swan.”

She followed the voice toward a small flicker of a flame. When she reached the light, she saw Leroy, his mouth gagged, his hands tied, as the Captain pulled on the rag holding his mouth.

“Princess, it’s Baelfire. He’s back.”

Emma looked up at the Captain and panic set in. Where was her son? “Henry.” She spoke quickly running back to the ladder and climbing with haste. She ran out of the small house, searching the trees for her son. “Henry.” She hollered but no sound came back. Frantically she ran to the back of the house, but the boy was gone.

Captain Jones was at her side in a moment, and she reached out, grabbing his lapel and she screamed angrily into his face. “Henry’s gone. Baelfire has my son.”

~*~

“A toast to being beautiful and single.” Ruby announced as she held her shot glass above her head. “Men suck.”

Emma giggled, clinking her glass against her friends then tilted it into her mouth, swallowing the warm liquid with a quick cough.

“Not all men, ya bloody drunk gits.” Will complained before downing his shot.

“Not you, you’re all soft and sweet.” Emma pinched his cheek. “And squishy.” She squeezed and he pushed her hand away from his face.

“I am not.”

“You so are.” Ruby cooed across from him.

“Ok enough of this nonsense. You were only with the bloke for two weeks.”

“That’s longer than I lasted with Jerry.” She pouted.

“I wouldn’t broadcast that across the room.” He said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe you should stop dating random men in bars, try a coffee shop, they are at least committed to their coffee order. Maybe it will last longer.”

“Poo what do you know, you haven’t dated in ages.”

“Yeah Will, we haven’t seen you with a woman since Ana.”

“Just waitin’ for the right one.” He said with a glint in his eyes.

“And does she have a name?” Emma inquired, her head feeling a bit like it was starting to spin..

“All women have names, Em.”

“Does this one have a specific name?” Ruby demanded.

“Would you both bloody get off my back? There’s no woman, not exactly.” He grabbed his beer and drank it quickly.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” Emma whined.

“You want to talk about secrets, what’s going on with you and Graham?”

It was Emma’s turn to grab her drink, gulping it as her friends stared at her expectantly. “There’s nothing to tell.” She said, slamming her drink down on the table. “He’s been busy lately with the old people and his Segway lessons.”

“Wait, he’s actually learning how to ride a Segway?” Will burst into laughter. “He really does want to be Paul Blart.”

“Stop, he’s trying to get a job downtown as a security guard at Faneuil Hall. They ride Segway’s and he wants to learn before he applies.”

“So sexy.” Ruby cackled.

“I can just imagine you both coming down the aisle on your Segway’s.” Will choked as he laughed loudly.

“I hate you both.” She pouted, ordering another round.

“You know what I wouldn’t mind? Taking a ride on that sexy ass bike of Killian’s.” Ruby practically purred as she spoke.

Images sprung to mind in Emma’s head, the dark bike glistening in the moonlight, her head thrown back, her legs wrapped around his waist as he brought her hips down against him, his cock buried inside of her.

“Totally hot.” She mumbled under her breath.

“See even the Princess agrees with me, Killian Jones is hot as hell.”

“What?” Her head jerked up toward her friends.

“You said it, totally hot. I’m just agreeing with you.”

“I didn’t say that.” She protested.

“I heard the words too, totally bloody hot.” Will teased. “Did I tell you that she practically took her shirt off before inviting him to the barbeque.”

Emma kicked him under the table. “I did not. I had a clothing mishap.”

“Oh, do tell.” Ruby giggled.

“Half her shirt was unbuttoned; her tits were out on a stroll of their own.”

“Stop it! That is not what happened.”

“That must be why he’s always got his tongue out of his mouth when Emma bends over.”

Emma spun toward Will. “He does no such thing. He has a girlfriend.”

“Whatever.” Will said sourly, finishing his beer. “I’m knackered. Let’s get a cab and get the hell out of here before Emma falls out of her chair.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” She laughed, slipping, and nearly tumbling from her tall stool as she tried to step down. “Or not.” She cackled, grabbing onto Will’s shoulder.

The taxi ride home was filled with laughter and joking from her friends, Emma content to stare out the window, trying with everything she could not to think about her sexy hot neighbor and his bike. Or his stupid hair that she imagined running her fingers through. Or his stupid jeans that fit him so nicely. Definitely not his mouth. She was not at all thinking about his mouth.

By the time she stumbled out of the elevator, her body was on fire with need. She hugged Will before he closed his door and walked arm and arm with Ruby to her door.

“Thank you for escorting me, you beautiful woman.” Ruby tilted in her heels, reaching out and grabbing the wall with a loud laugh. “Get some sleep.”

“Night Rubes. Happy being single again day.” She blew her friend a kiss as the door closed.

She looked across the hall at Killian’s door. “Good night you sexy beast.” She growled at the door, kicking off her shoes and carrying them to her apartment. She shoved her key into the apartment and pushed. The door didn’t budge. “Dammit.” She kicked the door, then dropped her shoes on the floor.

Turning back down the hall, she grabbed ahold of the wall and slid down toward the door that had been calling her to it for the last five minutes. Lifting her hand, she knocked and waited. Looking at her watch she realized it was 1am. Suddenly it dawned on her that he could be in bed with Belle. She backed away just as the door swung open.

“Swan?”

“Hey you, motorcycle man.” She slurred.

“Emma, are you quite alright?”

“I’m doing great. Are you in bed?”

He chuckled. “Not currently, no, but I was pretty content there a minute ago.”

She looked at the robe wrapped around his waist and hummed, reaching out to tug at the fabric. “Do you sleep naked, Jones?”

He smirked. “Are you drunk, love?”

“Me? Of course I’m drunk. Why wouldn’t I be drunk? Aren’t you drunk?” There was movement behind him, and a dog pounced into view.

Emma squealed, “Hello little guy.” Emma ducked under Killian’s arm, wandering into the dark apartment, and reaching out for the dog who was jumping around her feet.

“Why don’t you come in.” He sighed, shutting the door behind him.

“I couldn’t get my door to open, so I thought I’d come to yours.”

“And why would you do that? Will is right across the hall.”

“I know, I was drinking with him tonight. I’m drunk.” She giggled, reaching out and running her hand along the silk of his robe.

“I can see that. Shall I try and get your door open for you?”

Before he could move, she grabbed him by the robe. “What’s your rush, Jones?”

“Emma…” He said, with a warning tone.

“What?” She teased her fingers across his chest, watching his jaw tense as her palm flattened against his flesh.

“You’re drunk and I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You don’t even know what I want yet.” He looked down between them, her fingers curling the hair on his chest between them.

“Let me just put on some pants and I’ll help you get in your apartment.” He protested.

“Is the Pirate scared of the Princess?” She said with a dark look in her eyes. Pressing her body up against his, the hard appendage currently pressed into her hip telling her that he was affected by her presence as much as she was by his. Her fingers ran across his chest, slipping further down to his abdomen, firm against her palm.

When she looked up and met his eyes, the same want and desire burned in his, she gasped as his mouth dropped to hers, the force of it knocking her back against the wall as he pressed into her. Her entire body caught fire as his hands knotted in her hair, his tongue sweeping across her lips before thrusting into her mouth. Gone was the timid kiss they had shared in her apartment. This was wanton and desperate and full of everything Emma had been missing in her life.

Instinctively her leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him against her, her hands roaming his chest, sliding against his neck, digging into that hair she had dreamt so much about. She groaned appreciatively as his hands explored her hip, slipping under her shirt until she felt his hand on her breast, warm against the fabric of her bra.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, his warmth withdrew from her as he moved away. “Emma, we have to stop. This is wrong.” She stepped forward, reaching for his neck, needing to feel his mouth on hers again. “You’ve been drinking, you don’t want this.”

Suddenly she was angry, how dare he tell her what she wants or doesn’t want. “I want you.” She growled. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Graham. We can’t.” He breathed out heavily.

“God, of course you have to be a goddamn gentleman all the time.” She turned and yanked the door open, tearing down the hall.

“Emma.” He followed her into the hall, chasing after her as he held his robe shut. “Would you get back here?”

“Leave me alone.” She jiggled on the door, willing it to open, practically begging for the damn thing to budge. He reached around her, turning the key, and pushing the door open. She stormed into her apartment turning around to face him.

“Emma…” He said softly.

“You know just because I have sex with you in my head every goddamn night doesn’t give you the right to live there.”

He stepped back in the hall, “You’re pissed at me because you have dreams about having sex with me and somehow this is my fault?”

“Of course, it is, you and your goddamn hair and that stupid bike.” She yelled.

He shook his head. “Go sleep it off, sweetheart.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She glared.

“Gladly.” He stormed off toward his apartment and Emma stuck her head into the hall.

“Enjoy your hand.” She yelled, slamming her door shut and wandering through her house to fall into bed. She curled up around her pillow and let sleep take her away.

~*~

Killian tossed and turned the rest of the night. The feel of Emma’s body burning on his skin. He should have stopped himself from touching the bloody woman at all. But the way she was looking at him, the pure desire in her eyes, he wanted her. Bloody hell he wanted the woman.

But he couldn’t be with a woman who was involved with another man. He wouldn’t do that again. He couldn’t be that man again. He wasn’t perfect, he had been with many women since leaving Milah, but they had all been free agents, unattached, and available to be with as he pleased. He did no harm, and he left no baggage.

When he woke in the morning, he didn’t feel any better than he had hours before. His head hurt and his body was still needing release from the frustration of having Emma in his arms. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to the woman when he saw her, he couldn’t afford for things to break down between them. There was the matter of Henry, after all.

Killian suddenly felt an odd sensation, worrying about another man’s child. It wasn’t like they were sharing custody of the boy. He was his neighbor for goodness sake. That was all.

He got out of bed and ran a cold and bracing shower to take care of the situation at hand. He would worry about Emma once his brain could think again.

The cold water ran down his body causing bumps to form along his skin. He shivered, shaking his head as water splashed against the walls. When he could take the sensation no more, he turned off the water and toweled off, dressing quickly before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Before he could start the stove there was a knock on his door. When he opened the door, Emma was standing in the door frame, bracing herself against the wood, dark glasses on her face.

“Jones.” She said, her voice throaty and tired. “Can we talk?”

He stifled a laugh as he let her into his apartment. She looked wrecked and completely miserable, and the sight was almost comical. “And how is the little lush feeling this morning?”

“Don’t make this more difficult than it already is. I don’t remember a lot of what went down last night, but I’m pretty sure I was way out of line.”

Killian stared at the woman, examining her body language. “Aye. Lines were stepped over.”

“I just wanted to apologize and say that it won’t happen again. I had a really long week, Ruby just got dumped, we were celebrating, and I think I might have had a bit too much to drink.”

“Did you figure that out from the blinding headache, or…”

“Probably more to do with the keys I left in the door last night, as well as the fact I found my shoes in the freezer this morning.”

He couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer. “Can’t hold your liquor, Swan.”

“Enough. I just came to apologize, not be teased.”

“Well, no harm done.” He bowed.

“So, we’re good here?” He nodded and she walked to the door. “Alright then. Sorry again.”

“So, you really don’t remember anything?” He queried.

Her sun glassed eyes met his. “Nope.”

“Well, then I guess I hope you feel better.” He mused, watching her retreat down the hall, wondering how much of what she said was the truth, while ignoring his desire to carry her to his couch, make her breakfast, and tend to her in any manner she truly desired.

~*~

Emma made her way back to her apartment, her head resting against the door as soon as she shut it. She peeled the glasses off her face, groaning as the room continued to spin, blue eyes staring into her, his hands touching her everywhere until his mouth was on hers. She remembered everything, every kiss, every touch, every desire she had for the man. The only thing she wished for was that she could forget.