#he looks like he was left in a hot car for twelve hours

[crimsonwolf715]

I Wanted To Do It Because They Took Me Away From You

(Part 1 of Adventures of the Batfamily)

Bruce Wayne POV

“Damian’s gonna stay here since he’s still feeling under the weather,” Dick says as Bruce comes out of his office for patrol. 

“Sounds like a good decision,” Bruce replies. 

“Also, come say hi to Tim.” 

Bruce walks over to Dick, who holds his phone out. “Hello, Tim.” 

“Hi, Bruce. I heard that the Demon Spawn can actually get sick.” 

“He’s had a cold pretty much since you left,” Bruce says. “And be nice.” 

“Eh…” 

Dick laughs. “They mean it lovingly when they call each other mean names.” 

Bruce sighs. 

“I’ll try to talk them into being more civil,” Dick whispers. 

Bruce nods. “Thank you. Tim, how is the mission going?” 

“Fine. We’re almost done. Just another day or two and I should be back home with everyone else,” Tim answers. “I’ve missed you guys, even Damian.” 

“That’s what happens when you live with a bunch of people and then go somewhere else for over a week,” Dick replies. “I’ve had it happen a lot of times.” 

“I’m gonna head out on patrol. You two behave and make sure you check on Damian while I’m gone, Dick.” 

“I will. He’s mostly over it so he should be fine in the morning.” 

“I know, just make sure that he gets some rest and doesn’t spend all night talking to his many animals.” 

“I will.”  

Bruce wakes up with a sick feeling in his stomach. He opens his eyes and everything around him is blurry. 

“Wakey wakey, Batsy.” 

The Joker appears in front of Bruce and he tries to back up, only to find himself stuck where he is. Another Joker appears next to the first one. 

“Wow, that really did a number on you, Bats. I can’t even tell if you know what’s going on.” 

Bruce tastes metallic, then spits blood onto the floor. He doesn’t feel injured, but the taste is still in his mouth and he can see the blood clearly. 

“Oooo, so high, Batsy.” 

Bruce’s eyes force themselves closed, like there’s some kind of weight on his eyelids. 

Twelve year old Jason jumps out from behind the Batcomputer. “Boo!” 

“Nice try, Jason,” Bruce says, holding a mug of coffee. He takes a sip as Jason starts pouting. 

“You’re impossible to surprise,” Jason says. 

“Not true. You’ll just have to pay close attention,” Bruce replies. 

“Dick has managed to surprise me in this cave twice.” 

“I gotta ask him how he did that. He’s so cool.” 

Bruce smiles and shakes his head. Jason’s eyes are bright as he jumps around in his costume, preparing to fight crime. 

Bruce opens his eyes to see Dick across from him, tied up in his Nightwing costume. 

“Two caught, one to go,” Joker’s voice says, even though he’s nowhere to be seen. 

Dick looks worse for wear. Bruce can see that most of his face is bruised even though his head is down and his arm is in a position unnatural for an arm to be. 

“Nightwing,” Bruce says. 

He doesn’t say anything or pick his head up. Joker walks back in and throws Damian on the floor in front of him. 

“Got them,” Joker says. “Now you can all die together as the happy family you claim to be, on the anniversary of the worst day of your life. We miss baby Jay-bird, don’t we?” 

Dick Grayson POV 

“Please tell me you’ve got something,” Nightwing says as he and Damian take a break on a rooftop. “We’ve been looking for almost twelve hours and there’s no sign of the Joker.” 

“Well I’d love to tell you good news, hot stuff, but I don’t have any.” 

Damian groans and turns his comm off. Dick rolls his eyes where Damian can see it. 

A moment of silence. 

“You alright, Oracle?” 

“Hold on,” Barbara says. 

“Hold on?” Dick asks. 

Damian switches his comm back on. 

“The computer finally figured out where he is, but I don’t know that you’ll get there in time.” 

“Where is it?” Dick asks. 

She rattles off a location and how to get there. 

“I can do it. Come on, Damian. We’re never telling Batman how fast I’m about to drive with you in the car with me.” 

“Go speed racer,” Damian says as they head towards the Batmobile. 

They get to the Batmobile and Dick starts racing towards the warehouse. “Keep watching the feed for me,” Dick says to Damian. 

Damian pulls his phone out and turns on the news. “Twenty minutes until the timer goes off.” 

“We can get there in twenty minutes,” Dick says hesitantly. 

“You don’t sound sure,” Damian points out. 

“I’m sure,” Dick replies, hiding his concern behind a quick smile. 

Damian nods, clearly unconvinced. Gordon calls so Dick puts the video in the corner of the screen towards Damian. 

“We got an anonymous tip on where Batman is,” Gordon says. “We’ve got officers already on the way and I was supposed to contact you earlier, but got busy.” 

“No need to worry. We know where he is and we’re on the way.” 

“That’s good.” 

“How close are the officers?” Dick asks. 

“About fifteen minutes out,” Gordon answers. 

“We’ll meet them there but they are not allowed to go in without us. Joker will kill them without hesitation if he finds them.” 

“I know the rules. I’ve already alerted them that they can’t go in without you guys until the timer hits five minutes. If it hits that point and you guys aren’t there, they’re gonna go in without you.” 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Dick replies. “Bye, Gordon.” 

He hangs up and picks up speed once he gets on a straight road. 

“Weee,” Damian says sarcastically. 

Dick shakes his head, but laughs for a moment.  

Jason Todd POV

Jason turns on the TV and sees Joker on the screen with a bloody and beaten Batman. 

“One hour left until The Batman dies,” Joker says. “Nightwing and Robin are nowhere to be seen and if they’re not quick about it, they’ll get to watch just like everyone else.” 

Jason recognizes the room Batman’s being held in. It’s from the “Funhouse”. Jason doesn’t grab his helmet or take any of his normal tools with him. He grabs one of his pistols off of the table and runs to his motorcycle. 

After securing the pistol in its holster, he speeds towards the warehouse. He weaves through traffic with expert ease and makes it to the Joker’s “Funhouse” in record time. He walks into the warehouse, memories of his brutal beating at the hands of the Joker flashing before his eyes making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. 

He searches each room until he finds Joker, laughing as he’s telling the camera that there’s only one minute left until Batman gets executed. The method of execution is something else. A cannon-like contraption that’s got smiles and laughs painted on the sides, but instead of a cannonball it has five knives inside of the barrel. Jason grabs the knife out of his pocket and cuts the wires to the camera as Joker pokes Batman’s face while taunting him. 

“You’ll have the same death day as your son,” Joker whispers. “A fitting end, if you ask me.” 

It takes a moment, but Joker hears the camera feed in the corner of the room cut so he turns in that direction. Jason runs towards him and kicks him into the wall. 

“Five… Four…” 

Jason looks around the room to see the timer on the cannon still running. One thought crosses his mind as he makes eye contact with Bruce, who looks like a light breeze could take him out. 

Joker won’t take anything else if I can help it.  

He runs towards Bruce as the timer keeps counting down. 

“Three… Two… One…” 

Jason grabs at his chest, where the knives found home after being shot from the cannon. Joker, who’s getting up after being kicked into the wall looks shocked, then angry. Jason’s vision blurs, then stumbles back. Joker starts raging and throwing things around. 

“I killed you! You’re supposed to be dead!” Joker shouts. “How are you still alive?” 

Jason flips Joker off. “I’m just that awesome, shithead,” he chokes out. 

Police sirens can be heard, so Jason pops three shots off at Joker. One manages to find home in his arm, so he tucks tail and runs. Jason takes one of the knives out of his chest and cuts Bruce free, then falls onto his back. 

Bruce shakily gets on the ground. “Jason?” 

“Heh, I cut the camera feeds so you can feel free to pass out until the police show up with Bluebird and your new brat,” Jason says. 

“How are you alive?” Bruce asks. 

“Ra’s woke me up.” 

“What…?” 

“I had this grand plan to take control of Gotham’s underworld and kill the Joker. I know your stupid rule of no killing, but just him. I wanted to do it because he took me away from you.” 

“Jason, you’re gonna be fine. You can’t die again.” 

“You’re acting fairly normal for a man so high off his ass that he couldn’t untie a rope tied like a child tied it.” 

Bruce’s breathing gets heavier and faster, so Jason slaps him. It’s weak by all standards, but it does the trick. Bruce comes back to reality and starts checking Jason’s condition. 

“Stop it, old man. I guess this is how it should have ended. Dying to protect my family, I like that. I still hate you for replacing me and leaving that scumbag alive, but at least nobody has to lose their dad today.” 

Jason turns his head to the side, then starts coughing up blood. 

“Father!” a voice calls from somewhere else in the base. 

“Damian,” Bruce mumbles, then turns in the direction of the door. 

“I hope you don’t remember this when you wake up,” Jason says. 

Bruce turns back towards Jason and he slams the butt of his gun into Bruce’s forehead. Bruce blacks out almost instantly and crumples into a heap. 

Bruce Wayne POV

Bruce wakes up to the sound of a heartbeat monitor. Steady heartbeat, and someone is holding his hands. He opens his eyes and he’s surrounded by his children. Dick, Tim, and Damian are all sitting in the room around his bed. Dick and Damian have a hold of his hands while Tim’s sitting at the foot of the bed with a book in hand. All of them are asleep in various uncomfortable looking positions. Damian blinks his eyes open and stares at Bruce for a minute before seeming to fully wake up. 

“Father!” Damian lets go of his hand so he could use both hands to reposition. 

Bruce ruffles Damian’s hair, which he accepts with a small huff. It only takes a minute for the other two to wake up thanks to Damian’s ruckus. 

“How long was I out?” Bruce asks. 

“Almost thirty-six hours,” Dick answers after a quick glance at his watch. 

“It took you so long that Drake was able to come back from his mission,” Damian adds. 

“What happened to Jay?” Bruce asks. Dick stiffens up while Tim and Damian look confused. 

“Who?” Damian asks. 

Recognition crosses Tim’s face, then it turns to confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“He was there. He got me out.” 

“Jason wasn’t there, Bruce,” Dick says quietly. “You were the only person there and the feed cut suddenly, so we figured you got yourself out. You were pretty high, so you can’t really trust anything you saw.” 

Bruce furrows his brows, but only acknowledges the statement with a nod. The subject changes to his recovery, which will take a couple weeks so says Dr. Thompkins. Bruce doesn’t say much, letting his kids do the talking. Tim tells him all about the mission he was on and how well it went, while Dick and Damian talk about adding trackers into the suits so they can keep up with each other. 

Everyone quiets back down after a while and eventually falls asleep, so Bruce is left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts about the fact that there should be a fourth kid here with him and there isn’t. That Jason would be here with his brothers if Bruce hadn’t been so reckless and careless. 

Jason POV 

Jason stumbles into his base and people start rushing towards him. 

“Boss, what happened?” one asks. 

They take him to the clinic down the road and the doctor treats his wounds. Once the doctor clears him to leave, he heads back to base. Everyone’s waiting, and looks concerned. 

“How are you planning on protecting us from the Bat like that?” one asks. 

“Bat’s gonna be out for a while,” Jason replies. “He’s being replaced by Nightwing, and I’m pretty sure that you guys can handle the week that I’ll be out.” 

“A week?” another one cuts in. “You look like you’ll be out for at least a month.” 

“I heal fast,” Jason says. “I’ll be back to working in no time. I’m thinking that we change our tactics a little while waiting for the Bat to come back. I want things to be a little more discreet. Give the heroes a false sense of security.” 

He explains the plan to them and they all seem pleased with it. 

“Someone keep tabs on whatever you can find about the Joker while I’m out,” Jason says. 

He heads back to his tiny apartment and crashes.

[xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx]

"hey, johnny! how's working retail going?"

".... wonderful."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics.

No Loose Ends

Week #3 Prompt: Sneaking Around | Word Count: 6500 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

Song inspiration to fill the @steddiesongfics prompt is FLORIDA!!! by Taylor Swift feat. Florence & The Machine:

Little did you know, Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested, So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas Indiana

Steve's almost eight hours into the twelve hour drive, when he starts looking for another gas station. The smaller the better. One with a cashier who would rather be anywhere else other than at work behind the counter, and who in turn, won't be paying any attention to anything going on around them.

Not that he's wanted, or being looked for, because he's not. He's just being extra careful. Trying to garner no additional eyes on his car, or himself, if possible. No speeding, no rolling through stop signs. He's never driven this carefully in his entire life, and he feels tense from it.

It gives him a glimpse of what it might be like, sometime in the future, if he's in charge of hauling around six of his own little nuggets.

But that's not today. Today he's just in charge of one, well two, other people.

And himself. But he's used to being in charge of himself, since he has been, since basically forever.

If everything goes smoothly tonight, nobody's even gonna realize he's been out of town. Only Robin knows, and she's running interference with everybody else. Giving excuses for why they haven't seen him all day. Just buying him the time to get down, and back, without being missed.

The next filling station is a little raggedy, but exactly what he wants. Probably no cameras. Perfect.

He parks alongside the pump, and pulls up on the handle, starting to fill his tank. He looks in the backseat, and the bundled up figure moves under the blanket, shifting. It's dark under the poorly-lit canopy, three of the six fluorescent bulbs are out, and it makes it look just a little bit spooky. But even better, unless you were looking for him, you'd never see the slightly moving lump in the backseat.

And nobody's looking for him. Not anymore.

Thank fucking god.

Steve pays for the gas, and grabs drinks. Back in the car, he puts his own Coke in the cup holder, then lays the Mountain Dew in the backseat floorboard for when Eddie wakes up, and finally slides the Dr. Pepper into the passenger side cup holder.

He doesn't know Gareth Jones, not really, and it has taken everything he has to trust him. But Eddie couldn't be left alone, not yet, and Steve had asked who could they trust, and Gareth had been Eddie's answer.

Now he's asleep, head against the window, and Steve pulls back out onto the two-lane road, and keeps heading south.

They pull up in the driveway of the dark house, and Steve kills the engine.

"We're here," he says, and Eddie stirs in the backseat.

Eddie can barely walk. Once they've gotten him out of the car, he can only shuffle along, blanket over his shoulders. Together, they hold him up on both sides. The sand surrounding the beach house is not making it easier for him to move, Steve can tell. Steve has to try three keys before the door swings open, but they get him inside. Steve's not satisfied until Eddie's on the couch of his grandparent's vacation home in Destin, the city they swear is gonna become a tourist hot spot in the coming years.

So, the elder Harringtons scooped up a waterfront home that they only use once or twice a year, swearing it's an investment they'll be able to turn a profit on in the future. Steve doesn't care about that, but he is glad they have it right now, so they have a place Eddie can lay low. 

It's a little musty from being shut-up, but it'll do. 

Especially since there's no chance anybody in his family will turn up, since they're all in Europe right now without him. That left it just sitting empty, the perfect place to stash Eddie long enough to wait out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Nobody knows he survived. Not the public, and barely any of their friends. Not even Wayne. Not yet. It's easier to keep a secret when you don't know the truth, as guilty as that makes Steve feel. 

But right now, he can't dwell on that. Today, Steve's gonna try to get him holed up in here, and then figure out a more permanent solution once Eddie's back on his feet. 

He can't dwell on the rest of them, or his guilt will eat him alive. Knowing Wayne's mourning his nephew. Knowing that Dustin is going through hell. Steve hopes they'll both forgive him, when the truth comes out. Eddie swears Wayne will. Says he'll understand. Says he'll only be relieved that Eddie's safe, and well. 

Steve hopes that's true. 

He knows he'll be in for an ass-chewing from Dustin, but that's nothing new. He can handle that.

Steve gets Eddie situated. A blanket. Some pillows. A drink. All while Gareth looks around the house, snooping, and it sets Steve on edge. He's a kid. Is he really gonna trust a kid to keep Eddie safe? Alive? He supposes he is. It's not like he has any other choice.

Gareth's older than Steve was when he got involved in the Upside Down. But still. Kid.

Steve can't stay long. He takes a nap, and then gets back on the road before he's missed. Back in his bed in Hawkins before anyone has started asking any real questions that Robin can't deflect.

A week later, when Steve steps out of his front door, Pop Tart in his mouth, he nearly chokes when he sees two guys leaning against his car. Jeff and…the other one. Steve's drawing a blank. They're Eddie's friends, but as far as Steve knew, they'd evacuated with the rest of the town. 

Out of the way, not a concern. But, here they are.

People are starting to come back, Steve's noticed, now that the town is rebuilding after the earthquake damage. If they have houses to return to, lots of them are doing just that.

He should have expected this.

Well, not this. Because they shouldn't know Eddie's alive or that Steve might be a person to talk to about anything.

"Uh, hey?" Steve says as he pulls the dry pastry out of his mouth, trying to chew it up, and buy himself some time.

"Where's Gareth?" the one that isn't Jeff asks. 

"Um, Gareth who?" Steve asks.

Jeff laughs, showing a mouth full of braces. 

"Gareth Jones. He's not with his mom, and she thinks he's with you."

Steve tenses. That little shit. Gareth told his mom the truth? What the fuck? For real. That wasn't the plan. At all. 

What a dumbass kid. He can't believe he has to trust him with Eddie's safety. Clearly, he's doing a bang-up job.

Steve looks around, "Don't see him, do you?" Steve asks, sliding back into his King Steve persona easier than he'd imagine he'd be able to after a few years.

"Harrington," Jeff says. 

"He's not with me," Steve says, which is true. "I don't even know him." Also true. 

"If you have Eddie. If he's out there somewhere, you're gonna take us to him," the other one says. Goldie? Steve thinks his name is Goldie. Goldwin, maybe? Gareth was talking, and he's sure he mentioned him, but Gareth talked a lot. Steve zoned out. 

"Or we're going to the cops."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't actually think they'll do that, but fuck, what does he know? He cannot risk that. He'd rather tell them what he knows, than have any officials poking holes in their story.

He makes a decision, one he hopes he won't regret.

"Okay, Goldie, get in," Steve says, resigned to this, but Jeff laughs loudly, mouth open as the guy who is probably not Goldie by his reaction, jabs Jeff in the ribs with his elbow.

"Goodie," Jeff corrects, "but that was closer than most get."

In the car, Steve squeezes the steering wheel. 

"Where is he?" Jeff asks. 

"Florida," Steve answers.

"Florida?" Goodie demands, and Steve just nods.

"He's healing. Gareth's with him. You can't tell anyone," Steve stresses. "If the government finds out. They'll, well. Dispose of him, I reckon. No loose ends."

And Steve starts from the beginning.

They worked out a schedule. Every week they'll switch. And somehow Steve is stuck making the long fucking haul in the dead of night, with one of them in his passenger seat. It's awkward. He doesn't know them, and they definitely don't like him.

This week it's Jeff Williams. Honestly, he's nice enough, but Steve runs out of things to say before they hit the Indiana state line.

The long haul back has Gareth jabbering nonstop about what they did this week. All Steve really wants to hear is updates on Eddie. Is he getting better? Are his wounds healing? Still no infection? Did you help him change the bandages he can't reach? Can he climb the stairs yet?

But he's having trouble getting those answers. He does learn all about the new Accept album, though. Whoever the fuck that is.

The third week is even worse, because hauling around Goodie Goodwin is like having an angry bear locked in the car with him. A brown bear, not a black one. He's fucking pissed, and snarky, and only belligerently agreeing to help for Eddie's sake. Not for Steve's. He's made that abundantly clear. 

He hates Steve, in case Steve needs it spelled out for him. 

Steve does not. 

It's definitely clear.

Super duper clear.

Crystal clear.

And that's fine. Eddie just needs a babysitter, and an angry bear will do, so long as Eddie trusts said bear, and he seems to, for whatever reason.

When they fucking finally pull up, after a twelve hour drive that felt more like twenty-four, Eddie's sitting on the covered porch, the color finally seeping back in his face. Goodie sits down in the glider right next to Eddie, and steals Eddie's lit cigarette right from his mouth. Eddie leans against his shoulder, face pressed into his very weather inappropriate leather jacket, and smiles.

Oh, so now he's a gentle giant. 

Fucking dickhead.

Hauling Jeff back to Hawkins is a breath of fresh air after twelve hours of having Chernabog in the passenger seat. And he actually gives helpful information. Eddie's doing great. He's made some real progress, and he probably doesn't need a babysitter much longer. He's getting out of the woods.

Steve wishes he knew that before he had to spend time in the car with Goodie, but it's still good news, even if Steve had to suffer.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone this week?" Steve asks, and he doesn't know what he'll do if the answer is no. Leave Goodie for a second week of duty? Stay himself?

"I'm fine, Harrington," Eddie promises, and Steve nods.

"Okay, then. I'll be back next weekend," Steve assures.

Steve worries about Eddie being alone the whole next week, and it's a long drive by himself, but not as long as it was with Goodie refusing to make even the smallest of small talk. 

Goodie didn't say a word for the eight hundred miles back to Hawkins.

Honestly, it was actually an improvement from the ride down.

When Steve pulls up the house, Eddie's on the porch again, and Steve wonders if this is where he spends most of his time. There don't seem to be any neighbors here right now close enough to see him, and even if there were, they wouldn't know the Harringtons well enough to be sure Eddie didn't belong. 

"Harrington," Eddie says, foot pushing slowly, keeping himself in a soft sway on the porch glider.

Steve sits down next to him, and then Eddie keeps them moving, the breeze coming through the porch, and not feeling bad at all. 

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles.

"Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks.

And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states.

"Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that. 

He doesn't know why. They aren't really friends or anything. Just two people that were thrown together to fight back against evil. They don't exactly have a whole hell of a lot in common beyond that.

They get into the beer, and Eddie pulls out a joint. It's fun, and relaxing, honestly. Doing a whole lot of nothing. It feels like a mini vacation, and like Steve's settled for the first time in weeks, months. So, he stays an extra day, and then another, because they're having so much fun. Robin will cover for him. She will. But he's really gotta go in the morning. 

"Your friend Goodie hates me," Steve says. 

"All bark, no bite," Eddie laughs. 

Steve doesn't know about that. He seemed pretty nippy to him. 

The next week, he brings the decks of cards Eddie had asked for, and now they sit around the round table on the porch, and play hand after hand, going through a case of beer and cigarette after cigarette. It's fun, and unexpected, and Steve's pretty sure next week, he's gonna find a way to stay longer. 

He's tipsy, they both are, as they stumble up the stairs towards their rooms. He's got his hands on Eddie, the excuse that he's helping him not fall, but he's pretty sure that's not the whole reason.

He doesn't examine it too much.

They're just having fun, and that's a nice change of pace from the shitshow that Hawkins has been over the past few years.

He wants to stay. 

As his head hits the pillow, and he rolls over onto his belly, he tries to devise a plan to make that happen, even as he's drifting.

The kids aren't happy about it when he says he's going to be traveling with his parents for a while, and they'd really be pissed if they knew that he was actually sneaking back to Florida to hole up with a very much still alive Eddie Munson. 

He's gonna have to pay for lying about this, to a lot of people that really love Eddie. Steve knows it. But, he'd do it again. Eddie's safe. He's healing up. Every week he's been more mobile, more agile, more…Eddie.

Sure, it's not as if Steve knew him well before all this. But they went to school together. He knows what Eddie Munson is all about, and it's definitely not being quietly introverted on a couch.

When he gets there, he lugs in his huge suitcase, and takes back over the empty room across the hall from the one Eddie's been staying in. 

And then they spend their time laying on the beach, or getting drunk, or stoned, as Eddie's body slowly finishes stitching itself back together. He still aches, and so does Steve, but it's not too bad anymore. There are no more bandaids, ointments or creams. No more antibiotics. They hurt, sure, but they're getting by better now.

Eddie wants to venture into the water, and with no open wounds, Steve can't find a reason to say no. Eddie had had to watch from the porch that first week as Gareth ran across the sand, wading out into the water.

Now, it's his turn. 

Steve by his side, making sure he's okay. Strong enough. They didn't go through all this just for Eddie to drown.

Steve's getting concerned that he can't quit touching Eddie, but Eddie doesn't seem interested in making him stop.

They're wet, and wrapped in towels, but it feels inevitable when Steve pushes Eddie towards the bathroom, and into the shower. Inevitable when he turns to leave, and Eddie snags his hand, pulling him back towards the tub. Inevitable as he washes his body, trying to not only ignore his own half-hard dick, but Eddie's too.

It's still inevitable as he slips on his clean underwear, and crawls into Eddie's bed instead of his own, and finally presses their lips together. 

Eddie kisses back, and hands roam across bare skin. Eddie's fingers trailing his back, making Steve squeeze his eyes shut. He didn't realize how long it's been since someone touched him like that.

Neither of them take it further than that, but they do find themselves, lips kiss-swollen and laying together, breathing heavily in the quiet of the room, and Steve doesn't even know how they've gotten to this point.

One day Eddie was just some guy, then he was wanted on trumped up murder charges, and now, well, this.

"What's the plan? I can't stay here forever," Eddie says into the darkness, and Steve thinks maybe he could. They both could. They'd be safer that way. Hawkins can fuck off. It's their hometown, but not home anymore. Just a place that would arrest Eddie and throw away the key, given half the chance. 

"We could," Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes.

"You know you can't. And your grandparents will turn up eventually, and be less than thrilled to see me here."

"They won't be back until winter, and even that's iffy," Steve reassures, more himself than Eddie, he's pretty sure.

They could sneak around for months, until the snow birds fly south, and nobody would know. 

That's all Steve thinks about as he falls asleep, Eddie's arm slung over his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve jerks, sitting bolt upright in bed. Eddie doesn't even stir beside him.

Gareth Jones is standing at the foot of the bed, and Jeff and Goodie are in the doorway. Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. There's no explaining this away as anything other than exactly what it is. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Eddie," Steve says, nudging him with his elbow. Eddie still doesn't budge, but his foot is sticking out of the comforter, and Gareth runs his knuckle up Eddie's bare sole.

Eddie's awake then, jerking his whole leg backwards.

"Jesus H. Christ, kid!" Eddie screeches, pulling the sheet up to his neck as if he's trying to protect his precious modesty. It's fucking endearing. 

Terrifying, but endearing.

Steve must be staring at Gareth, because the kid shrugs, "He was late to school. A lot. Wayne asked me to start getting him there before he was a fifth year senior from tardies alone. The bottom of the foot is foolproof."

And Steve's hammering heart slows, just a little. Nobody is screaming, there's no fight breaking out. Nobody's being called names. He's not sure how to take this. They've been caught in bed, but nobody is really reacting to that. 

It's just a best friend explaining how to get Eddie awake. Robin would know how to do that for him, too.

"What are you doing here?" Steve finally asks. 

"We thought we'd come give you a break," Jeff says from the doorway. 

"Doesn't look like you want it though," Goodie adds, and it's the nicest thing he's ever said to Steve, Steve's pretty sure.

"Our parents think we're at a band camp," Gareth adds, "before school starts back up for me."

"Band camp," Eddie laughs, flopping back against the pillows, "Go wait downstairs."

And they listen. 

Steve just lays there next to him, finally saying, "Well."

Eddie laughs, then turns to face Steve, "They knew about me. I mean, the theory of me. It's not like I was getting any action. From boys or girls. But they're cool. Freaks gather together."

Steve chuckles, but Eddie keeps talking, "I'm sorry they know about you without you okaying it first, though."

It's fine. Honestly. Like, if they aren't gonna kick his ass? Everything's fine. Sneaking around always ends this way. Steve knows it. You always get caught by someone. He just didn't predict it to be so soon, or here.

"How'd they even get in here?" Steve asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's pretty sure he locked the door when they went to bed.

"That's probably my bad. I taught Goodie to pick locks."

"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans on, sliding up the zipper.

"Yep," Eddie answers, "the school would sometimes forget to leave the room unlocked for us to have Hellfire. So, I taught him to open it, since I have a bit of a tendency to run late."

Steve laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Regret it now, though," Eddie says dryly, and Steve holds open the bedroom door for him.

Gareth and Goodie are sitting around the kitchen table, already helping themselves to the beer they found in the fridge. Cards dealt. Waiting.

Jeff's cooking a massive skillet of eggs and there's toast piled high on a plate.

Beer and eggs. That's something. Breakfast of champions.

"You can fuck him, but Eddie is my card partner," Gareth says, pushing a waiting hand of cards towards Eddie.

Fair enough.

Steve snags a plate, and is more interested in eating than cards, anyway.

"We can't have set partners with five of us," Jeff says. "It's just gotta happen as the game unfolds."

Gareth starts to argue, and it's like they totally moved on from what they all saw upstairs. Steve feels off-kilter, but he takes another bite of toast.

Maybe these guys are Eddie's version of Robin. That's the only thing that makes any sense. 

Steve picks up his cards, and starts organizing them in his hand. He isn't even sure what they're playing, but he guesses he'll figure it out. There were lots of card parties in the Harrington household growing up. He probably knows whatever they're gonna throw at him, as long as it isn't something they've straight made up.

Which is possible, he's sure, knowing Eddie.

But that's about the extent of the discussion about what they walked in on earlier. 

Jeff turns over a card.

"Eldest, auction is in your hands," Jeff says, and Eddie looks down at his cards.

"Order it up," Eddie says, eating eggs and playing at the same time.

"Trumped up, just like your murder charges," Goodie says, and everybody laughs. 

"That doesn't even make sense," Jeff says.

"You just wanted to say it," Gareth adds, and Goodie takes his needling pretty damn well, all things considered.

And Steve smiles, happy that this is something they can all joke and laugh about. That as fucking terrible as it all was, is, that they can still make light of it to cope.

That's not nothing. That Eddie wasn't lost to it. That he's here to be gently ribbed. That his friends believe in his innocence, totally.

Eddie names his card, and Gareth plays it, becoming Eddie's partner. 

They continue to play, and things do not go Gareth's way, which Goodie seems to be enjoying.

And later, Goodie smirks, "I'm in the barn."

Gareth heaves a big sigh, "Damn. I'm gonna get skunked." 

And everybody laughs at his misfortune.

They stay. Camp out in all the rooms in the house, staking their claim. And it's actually a lot of fun. Like a high school house party that just doesn't end in a fist fight on the lawn. Steve hasn't been this relaxed since, well, before. Before 1983. Before monsters and the Upside Down came crashing into his life. 

He embraces this break, this chance to just be. He's not a kid anymore. Not in age, and definitely not in life experience. 

He lays on the beach, catching a tan.

These couple of weeks have felt as close to a vacation as he's gotten in years, and he lets the worry of the past slide off his back. 

Steve supplies the beer, Goodie has a few pre-rolls left, so they smoke, drink, and play cards. Steve watches them fight over the stereo, and he learns to recognize the new Accept album by ear with time. 

They swim, except for Goodie, because apparently he's scared of gators. Even if they tell him that the gulf isn't a swamp, and the chances of him being taken down by a gator are extremely unlikely. Not impossible, gators gonna gate, but it's not like it's super plausible. 

Goodie doesn't care. He's not doing it, and says no amount of peer pressure will work on him. So, he sits on the porch, beer on his knee. Cigarette in hand. 

So much for him being big and bad, Steve thinks. 

Today, girls have suddenly appeared down the beach. Screaming and laughing, and they all watch them intently. Taking in the bikinis. The bouncing boobies. Not one of them above watching a free show. 

They have a volleyball that comes bouncing in their direction, leading the girls to finally notice them and approach. Apparently Steve's the only one with a working voice, though. He learns there are a pair of sisters staying in their grandparents' beach house with their friends. One last hurrah before going back to, or for a couple of the girls starting, college. 

University of Nebraska. Go, Cornhuskers. Apparently.

Since Steve's the only one engaging like a normal human, they're paying extra attention to him. One in particular. And she's cute. But he politely rebuffed her attention the best he could, and then watched Eddie do the same.

Goodie builds a little bonfire, and Steve is kind of impressed. He doesn't even know where he got the wood at. 

Of course, Steve was less impressed when he was sent off for the stuff to make s'mores.

Eddie followed him, and as nervous as Steve is any time Eddie pokes his head out of the house, it's probably fine. Honestly. They are so far from Hawkins. 

Eddie does wait in the car at the grocery store, but then digs through the bag to see what Steve bought. 

Graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows. Steve's not sure what else Eddie expected, honestly. It's s'mores.

By the time they get back, one of the girls has taken a shine to Gareth, and now Steve and Eddie are watching him blush and blunder through what Steve thinks could be considered flirting, maybe. 

It's honestly a good show. 

For some reason, she isn't put off by Gareth's awkwardness, and later that night, with the window to his room open, Steve can hear Gareth talking to her down below on the porch. 

He's not as bad as Steve once thought, none of them are.

Just like Eddie.

Steve should have realized that earlier, he's pretty sure. First impressions are almost never right about anyone.

And their partying continues, just now there are girls involved. The group, growing. 

Goodie's suddenly not as scared of gators, apparently. Because there's a girl on his back out in the water. 

Steve sees Gareth dip under the water, and knows where this is going, and sure enough, he must snag Goodie's foot, which causes a commotion. 

Steve misses Robin. He sits there considering if there's any way he could get Mrs. Buckley to let her join them, but can't think of an excuse that would seem plausible. Unless Robin also wants to go to fake band camp, too.

Steve's lounging on the steps, leaned back, his elbows braced against the wood. Watching from behind his sunglasses. 

Gareth sits next to him. 

Two of the girls are hitting around a volleyball. Bouncing along the sand. 

"Boobies," Steve says. 

"Boobies," Gareth echoes, then laughs. 

They sit and watch a few seconds longer, then Gareth says, "Eddie doesn't have those, you know." 

"I know," Steve answers. "I like both. I'm okay with that. Are you?" 

"Yeah. Eddie does too," Gareth says, then turns and looks at Steve fully. 

Steve turns to see what he's doing. 

"Thanks. For saving him. I know we've been kinda shitty at times, but we owe you." 

They don't owe him anything, but he still teases, "Don't worry. Someday I'll collect." 

Gareth slaps him on the shoulder, and then inserts himself in the volleyball game down below.

The next morning, Steve's shaving at the sink, bathroom door open, when Gareth appears in the doorway. 

Then says nothing. 

Steve keeps shaving, waiting to see what this is. Finally asking, "Eddie okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. Um, I have a question." 

Steve meets his eyes in the mirror. Still waiting.

"Do you have a condom I can borrow?" 

Steve grins, "Maybe. But not borrow. I definitely don't want it back."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Very funny. Eddie told me to ask you. I regret that decision, now." 

Steve reaches over and gets his bathroom bag, and tosses it to Gareth, "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Gareth says, as he digs through it, finding what he was looking for. And then takes the whole box. Little shit.

But Steve lets him. He'd rather Gareth have more than he needs, instead of less. Steve can buy more. He's not embarrassed at all. 

"Play safe," Steve says as Gareth tosses his bag back, it thumping against Steve's bare chest.

Gareth doesn't come home that night, and by mid-afternoon the next day and still no sight of him, Eddie is sending Steve down to check on him. 

He's fine. Just laying on the couch in the girls' house, hand up the shirt of the petite, blonde one. 

"Check in with Eddie later," Steve says, startling him. "You know how he worries." 

Gareth laughs, and gives Steve a little salute and then a dismissive shooing away motion. 

Another girl is at the top of the staircase, and lifts the hem of her shirt, flashing him. 

"If only I wasn't already spoken for, sweetheart," he says, holding his hands to his heart, as if he's wounded by this admission. 

And she's laughing, and seems charmed, not offended, which is what he'd hoped for. He hasn't made anything official with Eddie, and they have definitely cooled their jets since Eddie's friends arrived, even if they all know. 

Steve walks down the sand, and Eddie is waiting on the porch.

"Well?" Eddie asks.

"I saw some tits," Steve says, sitting down next to him, "and Gareth's fine."

Eddie laughs, and briefly slides his hand through Steve's arm, squeezing his elbow.

In no time at all, the girls are packing up their cars, and Gareth is acting like he's about to become a war widow. 

Steve gets it. He does. Your first, you don't forget. But this should have been a little summer fling for him, not a pending broken heart. 

It's not like Gareth doesn't have to go soon, too. Labor day is quickly approaching.

Gareth is pretty pissed off that summer has slipped away, and now he has to go back to school. One more year. The youngest. Without him, they could probably stay indefinitely. 

And he's very unhappy about that fact.

But, he's made it his life's mission to make it clear to all of them that while he has to go back to high school for another year, at least he's not a virgin anymore. 

They're all sick of hearing it, and Steve's grateful it isn't gonna be him stuck in the car for twelve hours with him this time.

Eddie has given Gareth very explicit, detailed instructions on how to run Hellfire. How to keep it going for the other sheepies. Sure, the name will likely have to be changed. It's far too tainted now. And they might even if they have to do it in private, away from that godforsaken school, but Eddie wants that to happen, if need be.

A few days later, it's their turn to leave, and they're dragging feet, Gareth especially. 

"Are you ever coming home?" Gareth asks Eddie, standing next to his mom's borrowed minivan.

Eddie looks at Steve, and Steve doesn't have the heart to answer that. 

But no. Eddie's probably not.

Alone, once again, Steve follows Eddie up the staircase, his hand resting in the small of his back. As if Eddie still needs help with his balance. He doesn't, but Steve wants to touch him, nonetheless.

Steve watches as Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. He's gotten a bit of a tan while his friends were here, and he looks healthier, finally. Steve's hands find his bare skin, squeezing his sides. Eddie laughs, hair falling into his face. 

And Steve wants. 

He kisses him like he means it, then pulls back. During his last beer run, he'd done some other stocking up as well. He pulls the plastic sack out of the nightstand. New boxes of condoms and K-Y jelly. He shakes them out onto the bed.

"You wanna?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks at them, cheeks going a little red, but he nods.

There's a little confusion on the expectations here, but Steve rolls over onto his belly. This is what he wants. He's never had it, but he wants it, anyway.

"I've never, have you ever?" Eddie asks, holding the tube in hand, flipping the cap open and shut, over and over again.

Steve shakes his head, "No."

There's a learning curve. It's kinda steep, but at least they can laugh about it. They can figure it out together, and now that Eddie's finally got two fingers in him, Steve thinks they're finally getting somewhere. 

It's an odd feeling, honestly. He isn't sure what he feels about it, other than full.

But he's gonna ride this out. See where it goes.

Now up on his knees, the blunt head of Eddie's cock is definitely bigger than his fingers, and Steve hangs his head down between his shoulders, and sucks in a sharp breath.

Eddie stills, "You still okay?"

There's a hand on Steve's ass, and he focuses on that point of contact. Like everything is in that warm touch, and nowhere else.

"It's a lot," Steve admits. Because it is.

"Want me to stop?" Eddie asks, his other hand now trailing up Steve's spine.

"No. No. Just, more lube, I think. And go slow," which Steve knows is an ask. He's pretty sure Eddie's barely been moving at all.

Eddie slides out, and now Steve feels left open, and missing something. It's so fucking weird. There's more lube, and more fingers, and even more lube. Steve feels it dripping out of him, he's pretty sure. 

But then Eddie's pressing in again, and it seems to go a little easier. He feels the head of his cock pop past his rim, right into him, and he groans, fisting at the sheets underneath him. It's good, and the rest of the slide feels easier.

Eddie eventually stills.

"You all in?" Steve asks. He's not sure what he'll do if there's more.

"Fuck, yes," Eddie answers, and then Steve can feels his fingertips brushing along his hole as it's stretched around his cock, buried deep inside. "Look at you."

Steve can't do that, but wishes he could.

"You good?" Eddie asks.

Yeah. Steve thinks he's good, "Yeah. Yeah. You can move. Slow. Go slow. But fuck me."

And Eddie does. It's a little hesitant, and uneven, but he draws back, and then slides deep again. And again. Until he's found a nice rhythm. Steve feels insane, and whiny, and so fucking needy. 

He didn't expect how much he'd enjoy this. He kinda just thought he'd be taking one for the team.

Fuck that. He's taking this for himself. Happily, greedily.

It doesn't last long. Steve knows how that goes. The first time you slide into a body that's allowing, welcoming, you inside. It's overwhelming, and feels good in a way you can't even begin to expect.

Eddie shoves deep one more time, and comes with a noise that is nearly enough to send Steve over the edge, untouched. 

When he pulls out, Steve feels empty. Cracked open, and then Eddie rolls him over onto his back, slick hand finding his cock, eyes locked straight on Steve's, and Steve melts into it. He looks at Eddie. Into his dark eyes, his hand gripping Eddie's scarred waist, holding on.

It's a firm slide up, and back down, and Steve can feel his orgasm building. And when he tenses and comes, splattering his own belly and chest, he feels so fucking good. Eddie eventually lets go, cleans him up, and then curls into his side.

Fingers dancing along his skin, and Steve suspects, going from mole to mole.

He's gonna fall in love with him, hell, probably already has.

"We gotta do something. Make a plan. We can't stay hidden here forever," Eddie eventually says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "Even if I want to."

Steve knows. He knows that's true.

"Okay. I'll figure it out."

Steve paces on the porch, worried. He eyes the nailbat leaning against the railing, waiting, in case he needs it. He's scared he's made a mistake. Scared that it's gonna be helicopters, spotlights, and a whole fucking army decending on them.

It's not.

It's Dr. Sam Owens. Alone, with a briefcase.

Two hours later, Eddie Munson has a whole new identity, and a small tote bag of cash. A payout Steve hadn't even known to ask for, but Owens had brought as a peace offering to keep Eddie quiet if he'll just slink off and not expose all their secrets. 

Wayne's paperwork is on the counter, if he wants it. 

Jeff and Goodie are bringing Wayne out next week. That's the plan anyway. If they can lure him into the car. 

Eddie can't return to Hawkins with his new identity, but he can leave the beach house. Can leave Florida. He can go anywhere he wants, now.

Dr. Owens is descending the steps, nearly onto the sand, when Steve hurries out onto the porch. 

"Hey, wait!"

Dr. Owens turns around, and Steve suddenly isn't sure what to say.

"Yes?"

"Um. What would it take, to get me that kind of paperwork?"

Owens smirks, just a little, and reaches into his briefcase, pulling out a manilla envelope. 

Steve takes it.

"How did you know?" Steve asks.

"I've had eyes on you from the moment you ferreted him out of Hawkins."

Steve swallows. Nods.

Looks down at the envelope he's gripping tight. He could disappear, too. If he wants. He'd have to find some way to loop in Robin, of course, but he could just…go. 

Wherever Eddie wants. 

"Thank you," Steve says. 

"We think the activity in Hawkins has ceased. Once they finish rebuilding, it should be back to business as usual." 

Steve nods again. But it'll never be the same. Can't be. But the town will be able to start over. Have proven that's the plan. Hell, they've already figured out a way to start school on time and everything. 

Dr. Owens gives him one last look, and then he's gone.

Eddie's standing on the porch, and as Steve climbs the steps, Eddie holds open the door, asking, "What's next?"

Steve turns the lock, "Anything you want."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics to follow along with the filth and fun! 💦🎵

Notes: In the 1980's Destin was just starting to turn into the vacation city it now is. It went from fishing village to a resort city.

Accept's album Russian Roulette was released on April 21, 1986. As we're all aware, Eddie was wearing an Accept pin on his battle vest during S4.

[calmcoldevening]

I’m begging you for a part 2 of the knowing the slashers when they were younger fic where they meet when they’re older if you’re up for it ofc🙏

You knew slashers when you were a child and now you grow up and met them

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

TW: mention of blood, violence, stockholm syndrome.

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells. And also i really didn't know what I needed to write about Sinclair, because i need to rewatch the movie to remember their characters, so i didn't write about them. I hope you'll enjoy our sweet Tommy and baby boy Brahms

Part one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Thomas Hewitt

You just recently graduated from college and decided to celebrate it with a trip with your friends to one of the US states. The choice fell on Texas. You still had pleasant memories of your school life in this place in your heart, and your heart ached at the thought of how soon you left your hometown. Not that you would call these people friends, but you were good acquaintances and helped each other with tasks. And so you packed your bags and within half an hour you were all driving together in a small SUV. The boyfriend of one of your 'friends' (Jessica) was driving. He was a good man, although he joked about unpleasant topics from time to time. But you turned a blind eye to it. In the end, you will finally find yourself back in the good old Texas.

The road was long, so you had a lot of time to think. You were sitting in the farthest seat, staring into space and slowly stroking an old, slightly battered fox toy with your hand. Your thoughts revolved around one person. That shy little boy you had such a happy conversation with years ago. It was your first memorable friend. You no longer had friends who could surpass sweet Tommy.

Finally, the car turned at a sign with the inscription of a city you know. Your heart started beating faster and you couldn't suppress a smile in anticipation. Soon you will see him again, a sweet shy boy. Although now it will probably be a guy, after all, it's been almost twelve years. This figure was almost painful.

The Texas landscape flowed like a soft canvas on the other side of the window, the sun mercilessly burned his eyes, refracting through the glass. It was hot and stuffy. You're lucky to get into one of the hottest periods in Texas. This place has changed somewhat, although it remains the same as you remembered it. The once small plantings have now turned into real tall trees, although they did not save much from the sultry sun. The wheels of the car turned quickly on turns with an unpleasant sound, raising a cloud of dust behind them. Jessica's boyfriend, Tim, apparently loved playing racer very much, even on the main state road.

By all the laws of luck, Tim abruptly informed you that you were running out of gas. There was a gas station nearby. You entered a small diner next to the gas station, and your heart instantly warmed up. It was that sweet woman, Thomas's mom. Luda-May, isn't that right?

"Hello, Luda," you say with a slight smile, approaching the cash register. The woman looks up at you with a frown, peering at your appearance for a few seconds. Finally, recognition seemed to flash across her face.

"Y/N?" She asks dryly, her voice a little rougher than what you remember from childhood. You nod in response. A warm smile appears on Mrs. Hewitt's face and she hurries out from behind the counter, wrapping you in a gentle, almost maternal embrace. "God, girl.. I never thought I'd see you again. You've grown up so much."

"I'm so sorry that I left so quickly. It was my parents' idea, not mine."

"I understand, honey, don't worry. We've all missed you. Especially Tommy."

The mere mention of his name makes your heart ache. Tommy... You haven't seen him for so long. Your heart yearned for those beloved cornflower blue eyes. You reluctantly pull away from the cozy embrace of Luda, your hand reflexively reaches for your hair, removing a stray strand from your face when you understand the look at a woman.

"You still live there, don't you? Can I see him?"

"Of course, my girl. I've just finished. Hoyt should be arriving soon."

Hoyt? Your brain was carefully trying to find at least one mention of that name in your memory, but nothing came to mind. Strange. Although it may be one of their relatives or friends, after all, you haven't been here for too long, it couldn't have stayed the same, could it?

What was your surprise when that Hoyt turned out to be old Charlie. Although his appearance was now quite pretentious: sheriff's clothes, hat and badge. Something was wrong. This man has been lazy all his life, he could not suddenly decide to go to work in a place related to healthcare. But you chose to remain silent. Hoyt didn't seem to recognize you. When he saw your friends, he invited them to go with them, saying that he had a can of gasoline at home.

"Take the guys, and then you'll come for us. I don't think the sheriff's car can hold that many people," Luda intervened, grabbing your arm protectively. It's got you a little stressed out. Although there was some truth in her words. Five former students came with you, all of them obviously wouldn't have gotten into Charlie's car. The man wanted to say something, but gave up, nodding to the woman.

And so they left. All that time, Luda was asking about your life, enjoying listening to stories from college. She was more interested in this than your own parents. And now Hoyt is back. He was in high spirits. You got to the Hewitt house safely. As a child, as now, the building was still huge for you. Luda carefully led you into the kitchen, offering you tea. God, you've missed this place.

"Tommy! Come here, we have guests," Luda shouted and you heard hurried rustles and heavy footsteps from the basement.

It made you tense up a little bit. Finally, a couple of minutes later, a tall man, the size of an entire closet, entered the kitchen. Your blood turned cold. You slowly looked up. A long, tall body, wavy dark hair and a leather mask on his face. He frowns down at you, seeming to evaluate you with his cold blue eyes.

"Tommy?" As if nothing had happened, Luda-Mae asks in a cheerful voice, "Do you remember Y/N?"

It seemed that at that moment the gears were turning in his head. You needed time to think about it too. Was this huge man Thomas? No, of course, Tommy was a bit of a big kid as a kid, but he was still quite small. The only thing that attracted attention was his bandage on his face. Now it has been replaced by a strange leather mask.

You didn't even have time to think, as careful footsteps were heard from the basement. It seemed, but Tommy and none of the People were found at first. And Tim appeared behind Thomas. God, he was covered in blood and his back was bleeding. Your face is filled with pure horror. And that gave Tim away. Thomas notices your fear and turns around, immediately grabbing Tim roughly and dragging him back to the basement. Your brain screamed like a hunted animal that you needed to get out of here and urgently. Something has happened to this family, something bad, since they communicate with other people like that. But as soon as you tried to run to the exit, at that moment you were hit by something heavy on the back of the head.

His heart ached for you. You were the first person who ever showed him kindness in your life, and now you will surely be afraid of him. God, he wouldn't want to see fear in your beautiful eyes when you're afraid of him. His body was filled with an unpleasant feeling of disappointment and pain. He didn't want that, really. But he wanted to keep you by his side, he didn't want to let you go again. And he didn't want you to hurt the family. So now he was gently wiping the remnants of blood from your beautiful face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. You were still as beautiful, his heart began to beat faster, as it did when he was a child. He saw that toy in your friends' car, you kept it all these years. Thomas couldn't help but smile. Maybe you loved him too? Not now, not after what he did.

The following days were a blur. Your head ached, and an unpleasant heaviness tightened your neck. They put you on a chain. Thomas or Luda would check on you from time to time, Luda would just leave food, and Thomas would just sit on the bed next to you and just look at you. Sometimes he would try to touch you, but you would instantly jump aside like a wounded animal. Thomas's heart ached painfully in his chest. Although.. He deserved it, didn't he? All his life he was looked at with disgust or fear. But he didn't care about those people. All these simple passers-by or victims were just empty meat. But you were afraid of him now. He couldn't stand your gaze, full of fear for your life, so he left the room every time, unable to look in your eyes.

The days slowly followed each other. You were still afraid. But there was something else. Whenever Thomas enters the room, your eyes involuntarily glided over his big strong body. You wanted to snuggle up to him, find comfort in his arms. But there was a part of you that knew it was wrong. They killed people, they killed your friends. They chained you up and kept you here like some kind of dog. And yet your body was begging for his warmth, just like when you were a child.

What was Thomas's surprise when the next time he came into the room, you crawled closer to him, asking for a hug. Your arms clumsily wrapped around his body. Thomas blushed instantly. His heart felt so good. He gently grabbed you by the hips, putting you on his lap, and hugging your fragile body with his strong arms. He buried his nose in your hair. How he missed that feeling. His brain was filled with the scent of your skin. Thomas let out a relieved whimper as you began to gently run your fingers through his tangled hair.

He never left you, he won't let you go into this cruel world again. He will protect you with all his heart. His sweet girl.

Brahms Heelshire

"Now I've won," the man says in a hoarse voice through his cracked porcelain mask with a doll's face.

He was breathing heavily, hanging over you, his left hand pressed against the wall behind you, while the other reached out to your face, gently stroking.

"Still beautiful," he whispers, caressing your chin with his thumb, tracing your lower lip with his fingernail. Your heart was pounding wildly, you shrank under the man's gaze like a frightened animal. His movements were rough, but his touch seemed almost gentle, as if he didn't want to disrupt this moment or harm your fragile being. His breathing was loud and heavy because of the mask, and the skin under his eyes was slightly reddened. And those eyes. Those warm eyes are the color of pure amber under the bright sun. They looked at you with extraordinary affection and humility. You could recognize those eyes out of a thousand. Like back then, fifteen years ago.

You nervously clutched the steering wheel rim with your right hand, counting the turns. Not so long ago, you managed to get a new job, and who would have thought that this job would be in your childhood home. Or rather, your friend. They always treated you like their own child, so they gave you this job without any problems.

The weather was clear, it was only the beginning of autumn. Some of the trees have already turned golden, their leaves rustling unobtrusively. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, so the sun shone brightly through the windshield of your car. It seemed that nothing could spoil your return to your childhood home.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest. The mind was filled with thousands of pleasant memories of your past together and children's laughter. You missed Brahms so much. It's been a long time since you've seen him.

Finally, after a couple of long hours, you arrived at the Hilsher estate. It remained the same. Obviously, Mr. Heelshire was still carefully tending the garden, growing his wife's favorite flowers. You stopped right next to the driveway, the wheels moving pleasantly on the gravel. After getting out of the car, you went inside without thinking twice. The greenery of this place has always been striking in its beauty, it seemed that no seasons had power over this place, the forests of the estate still gave pleasure with their emerald color and the coolness of the dense grove.

You were met at the very door by Mrs. Heelshire. She has changed a lot since your last visit, of course, the years take their toll. Her eyes were a little red and tired, and there were small bruises under them. Her face was unusually pale and her hair was gray, but not as when it happens from age, but when a person goes through a lot of life difficulties and faces stress.

"Honey, I haven't seen you for so long," the woman said smiling, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Her hugs were pleasant, but strangely nervous, "We were surprised when we received your candidacy for this job."

"I just really wanted to come back. My parents wouldn't let me go just like that."

"And for good reason," the woman mutters to herself, immediately turning to face you with a warm smile, "We always want only the best for you, my girl, don't hold a grudge against us."

Her words strain you a little, but you attribute it to her slight excitement before the long-awaited vacation. After all, for as long as you can remember, Mrs. Heelshire has always been a caring and hardworking woman, she didn't know the word 'rest'.

After ten tedious minutes, Mrs. Heelshire explains to you the set of rules and your responsibilities. It seemed like she was trying in a hurry to tell you everything at once. Her eyes were constantly darting around the walls of the house.

And now you're alone. Taking care of the doll was not so difficult. Although you still didn't understand why the doll had the name of your childhood best friend. No one's parents told you what happened to Brahms, you just moved in a couple of days before his birthday. You didn't even have time to give him the gift you made with your own hands. Years later, you felt guilty about it. But now, that feeling seemed to be gone. It feels like you're finally in your place. You're home.

It happened two weeks after your arrival at the manor. As usual, you were sorting out the groceries that Malcolm brought while the man was standing next to you, leaning against the doorjamb. He was watching you carefully, talking about something. To be honest, you've noticed for a long time how ambiguously he looks at you. All those jokes, compliments, touches and glances. He was flirting with you. But you could definitely tell that he wasn't your type. Damn it, he was overconfident. But in a relationship, you wanted to 'be at the helm', you wanted a guy with character, but definitely obedient. And Malcolm definitely didn't fit that description.

"..hey, can you leave this doll after all? Let's go to my place. I'll show you a lot of interesting things," he says with a sly grin, taking a few steps closer.

"The Heelshirs left me here for a reason, I don't want to undermine their trust."

"Come on, do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a house with just this doll?" The guy purrs, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your neck. You are annoyed by his behavior and you step on Malcolm's foot with force. He hisses and quickly pulls away. "Fuck, are you stupid?"

"Watch your mouth, boy."

Malcolm tenses up. He hears rapid rustling in the walls, his eyes darting around the room.

"The hell with you," he finally gives up. Malcolm grabs the empty boxes and leaves the house, slamming the door behind him. You're relieved. He seems to be a man, but he behaves like a scared boy.

"Y/N.. Did he hurt you?" A small child's voice comes from somewhere in the hallway. You flinch a little. You knew that voice. Brahms. True, his voice was a little different in childhood, now it was quieter and plaintive. You quickly close the refrigerator and slowly walk towards the source of the sound.

"Who's here? Brahms?"

It all happened too fast. At first, you were driven by interest with a little bit of fear. In an instant, you saw a tall, broad figure towering over you by a good two heads. You were scared. You ran away, hoping to hide from a stranger. And one day you were pinned against the wall by a muscular figure.

"Y/N, don't be afraid... I didn't mean to scare you." A child's voice mumbles plaintively. You look into those hazel eyes and your heart sinks.

"Brahms?" In response, the man only reaches out to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

"Now I've won." His voice changes. Instead of a child's voice, a low, hoarse voice now caresses your ears. You feel electricity running down your spine, you instinctively squeeze your hips.

Your hands reach for the porcelain mask, but Brahms abruptly pulls away. He shakes his head negatively. He didn't want you to see his face. He doesn't want you to be scared. He doesn't want you to leave him like the others.

"Come on, Brahms. You're a good boy. Didn't you love kissing?" You speak with a slight smile. A long-drawn-out whine comes from under the mask. He nods briefly. You lift the edge of the mask, covering his hot lips with your own. Brahms's movements are fast and assertive, he bites your lips, squeezing your waist in his hands. He missed you so much.

[vivwritesfics]

If your taking requests could you write Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Rooster meeting a girl a few weeks before top gun and hooking up with her a few times (no actual smut)

And later on sees her in top gun and she is the first female pilot he meet (if possible for her callsign to be Chaos) and walking up to her before saying something like "you got me trained like a damn dog"

< based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeaGGyMR/>

I am so sorry I've had this in my inbox for so fucking long, been trying to find a way to... write this, I suppose. I'll be honest, this turned out very different to the request but I couldn't find a way to make it this exact way. I hope you still like it!

They met eyes across The Hard Deck. It was both of their first times at Top Gun, that fundamental last night before they started.

(Now, I must note that this was before Penny bought The Hard Deck. It looked different to what it did when she and Bradley later returned for the uranium mine mission, but it still served the same purpose)

She sipped her drink and he sipped his beer, wiping the foam away from his moustache. Shit, he was hot. She watched as he whispered something to his wingman and approached.

If it had been the eighties, she would have lost that loving feeling. But it wasn't the eighties anymore, and Bradley had long since given up using his dad and Mavericks pickup tricks (gave up when Mav pulled his papers, actually).

He didn't sing to her, did some good old fashioned flirting.

It was a good thing he was cute, she thought with a grin. She held out her hand, signalling that it had worked. "Chaos," she said.

He placed his hand into her own and shook it. "Rooster," he replied, exchanging callsigns.

Chaos and Rooster. Chaos she was indeed. Chaos they both were. Bradley couldn't help but follow her, his hand in hers as she led him out of The Hard Deck. His wingman whooped and hollered at him as he left, following her out to her car.

She had debating staying on base or renting a place of her own for a month. Now that she had Bradley kissing her in the back of her car, she was so glad that she rented a place of her own. The way his lips trailed down her neck, had her moaning so slowed anybody outside of the car could hear.

She got him back to her rented place, got him into her rented bed, and didn't let him leave it until the next morning. He had her awake for most of the night, absolutely railing her (there is very little else I can say about it, but the burn on his moustache was, wow. Her legs had never shaken like that before, but that is a story for another day).

He left before she got up, making his way back to his own place, to his baby (the Ford Bronco).

They'd given each other their callsigns, knew each other by no other name. It shouldn't have been a surprise to Bradley when she walked in and took a seat in front of him.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath.

But there she was, Chaos. Bradley's cheeks were flaming any time the two had to interact.

But Chaos? She didn't stop flirting. And Bradley couldn't stop himself from falling for it. Time and time again he ended up in her bed. Neither much minded it. It didn't become rare to see his Ford Bronco parked outside.

But then they were shipping out. One last night at The Hard Deck, drinking together. It hadn't quite struck to the two that this was their last night being together.

If she wanted anything that night, Bradley was getting it from the bar. They didn't hide any sort of... relationship (or whatever it was) that night, with Bradley kissing her whenever he walked over to pass her the beer he'd gotten to her.

"Damn," said Natasha as she sipped her drink. She was the one watching the clock, watching for the minute it got within twelve hours of them flying. "You've got him trained like a damn dog."

It was a rather sad thought. Not that she had him 'trained like a damn dog', but that soon, they'd bee moving on from Top Gun and leaving each other behind. There was no telling where they'd end up and whether they'd be able to stay in touch.

God, she couldn't tear up here. She concentrated on one spot on the ground, just trying to keep herself from crying.

"Chaos?" Something touched her shoulder, a cold bottle of beer. Bradley held it in front of her face and she gladly took it.

They'd be okay. For this last night, they'd be okay.

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Eleven**

A collection of fun and fluffy one shots set in the same bakery. Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stories, twelve recipes.

Hello!

The second to last visitor to the bakery is here and I can hardly believe it! Eleven weeks of Pedro boys have flown past and I've had so much fun with them!

So before we get started with number eleven, this series was meant to be all fluff, but then this Pedro boy arrived and just really got out of hand and I had nothing to do with it, he just took over!

So I had to ask my friend @morallyinept if I could use her very handy Scoville Smut Rating to issue some warnings. Thank you, Jett!

Series Master List

This chapter is rated:

🌶 - "Don't hurt me, cadejo." 

Scoville Level 15,000. The Donis Cadejo Hot Sauce. (Buy the sauce here) The story contains mildly spicy smut. Tingles left on your tongue.

The week’s been slower than usual, as it always is in February, post-holiday blues setting in, everyone trying to be extra healthy and save some money. No time to be indulging in sweet things. Your shop does fine though, planning and prepping for Valentine’s Day and the upcoming wedding season. 

But the slower hours in the shop makes you take note of the black car that’s been parked across the street all day. Nothing odd about that, but there’s also been someone sitting in the car all day. You’ve been glancing over as you go about your business, studying the man behind the wheel as he makes notes and phone calls, focused on something further down the street, out of your view. From the way he’s dressed, a crisp, well ironed, pale blue shirt, you’re guessing he’s an agent for some agency, or maybe a very well dressed private eye. He’s not doing a very good job though, he sticks out like a sore thumb on this street of small businesses. When he glances over at you just before noon, you give him a quick smile, to hide the fact that you’ve been staring at the way he’s been rubbing his large hand over his chin for the past five minutes. He locks eyes with you, surprise flitting across his face, before he gives you a crooked smile in return. 

This is the beginning of a dance; you glance over to find him looking at you rather than the street in front of him, you raise your eyebrows in challenge and he seems to chuckle, looking away. You study his strong nose, the dark curls brushing over his forehead as he makes more notes, and he catches you staring when he looks over, one eyebrow arching in a questioning look and you shrug with a smile, going back to the cake you’re decorating. 

It’s late in the afternoon when you notice movement in the street, a second car parking behind the first and a man getting out and walking over to the first car. Quick words are exchanged, you steal glances from the corner of your eye as you finish up an order for tomorrow. Bending down to put the order away, you hear the bell on your front door chime. 

“Hi, I thought I’d stop by and say hello properly,” the man from the car is standing in front of the counter with a small smile as you straighten up. 

“Hi,” you say, returning his smile as you take the chance to get a better look at him for the first time. He’s taller than you expected, and broad, so much broader than the side view you’ve had all day indicated. The light blue dress shirt is stretching over his shoulders and arms and you immediately decide that he must be an agent, no private eye is ever this fit, not that you have much experience, but still. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself and explain what I’m doing,” the man says, nodding over at his car on the other side of the street, “And I hope I can count on your discretion too.”

“Uuhmm, sure,” you say, looking at him as he pulls a badge from the pocket of his suit trousers, “I was kinda assuming that you’re on some sort of stake out.” 

“That obvious, huh?” the man chuckles, showing you his ID.

“Yeah, your sleek car and nice shirt gave it away a little,” you smile, “and the way you sat out there all day, I’m pretty sure every business owner on the street has spotted you.” 

“I’ll need to fix that for tomorrow then,” he smiles, “I’m special agent Dave York, I’m with the CIA, and we’ve got surveillance on an apartment further down the street. I can’t tell you what it’s about but you don’t have to worry, it’s nothing dangerous for the neighborhood.” 

“That’s good to know,” you reply, “And you’re welcome in for coffee or something to snack on whenever you want,” you thumb at the coffee machine behind you, “I’d offer delivery service but that might be a little bit too obvious.” 

He chuckles at that and you notice the dimple on his clean shaven cheek, a slight five o’clock shadow indicating that it’s been a while since he got up and shaved this morning. 

“I’d love a coffee right now, if you don’t mind,” he says and you point at the menu. 

“What’ll it be? 

“The dark roast, black, please,” he says, “You’ve got a good selection.”

“Thanks, people mainly buy bread and cakes, the coffee machine is mainly for me and a handful of regulars who like good coffee, we like trying different beans and roasts,” you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you prepare his coffee to go. 

“I’ll have to become a regular then, keep your coffee business going,” he taps his card on the machine as you hand him the cup. 

“I just realized I know who you are,” you say, the penny finally dropping, “One of my regulars, Mrs Levinson, knows your mom. Mrs Levinson bought a Lemon Meringue Pie for her a while back.” 

“Oh yeah, those two are as thick as thieves, always trying to set me up on blind dates,” he chuckles, taking a sip of the coffee, “I’ve been blaming my workload to avoid them." He raises the cup to you with a smile, “Great coffee, I’ll definitely come back."

“If I don’t spot you, I’ll know you’ve done a better job of hiding,” you tell him and he laughs, giving you a cheesy thumbs up as he leaves.

You watch him take long strides across the street to his car, the coffee still in his hand, and just as he gets in the car, he turns and looks back at you, a smile cracking across his face as he raises his hand in a wave. 

You do spot him the next day, but you are keeping an eye out for him, glancing out to see if he’s arrived. He parks a different car across the street this time, a beat up, rusty looking banger, and he’s in a ratty looking t-shirt and a beanie pulled low over his forehead. Much less ‘agent on a stakeout’ this time, but you still glance over at him from time to time, far too often in fact. And you bite back a smile when you catch him glancing over at you too, catching your eye on a few occasions as he winks. 

Half way through the day he’s relieved, and he steps out of his car, coming over to the bakery again. 

“Hi,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he pulls off his beanie, “Did I blend in better today?” 

“Yeah, better,” you smile back at him as he comes up to the counter, “The distressed t-shirt was a good choice.” 

“I had to dig it out from the bottom of some box left over from when I moved,” he holds up the front of it and studies the suspicious looking stain on the front, “I swear this is not my usual casual look.” 

Holding up the front has resulted in the hem of the t-shirt lifting up over the edge of his pants and you can’t help but glance down as he flashes a few inches of skin, his sweat pants sitting low on his hips. The trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband has you momentarily distracted as you follow it down to- 

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, snapping your eyes back up to his, but not before he notices, giving you a small smirk, “NIce sweatpants.” 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, “not as old as the t-shirt, but still not my best look, I promise.”

“I don’t mind that much,” you smirk back and he flashes a crooked grin, his eyebrow cocked, before he looks up at the coffee menu behind you and tilts his head to the side.

“What do you recommend today? I’m feeling adventurous,” he says, looking down at you again with a smile, “blame the sweatpants.” 

“A single espresso shot vanilla hazelnut latte with salted caramel and whipped cream on top? I usually add some cookie crumbles too,” you say and Dave’s face falls, his eyebrows pulling together in a concerned look. 

“Ah…uhh…” he stutters, rubbing his hand over his jaw, clearly looking for a polite way to decline your suggestion and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at his panic, but he catches the mirth in your eyes. 

“Holy shit, you’re kidding,” he gasps out, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as you start giggling. 

“Sorry, I had to check if you’re serious about your coffee,” you wink at him as he shakes his head and puffs a relieved breath. 

“Had me worried,” he says, “I thought I’d have to drink one of those to be allowed to stay a regular.” 

“No, I think I’d have to kick you out if you did order one of those,” you smile, picking up the bag of new beans that just arrived, “Here, smell these, I just got them so I haven’t even tried them yet.” 

Dave takes a deep breath and nods with a satisfied look, “That’s nice, can I try that?” 

“Sure, I’ll make us one each. Single or double?” 

“Double, please, this stake out thing is kicking my ass,” he says, leaning against the counter as you start the process of grinding the beans. 

“Do you want some cake or something else too?” you ask, nodding at your selection. 

“No, I’m good,” he says, “It all looks really good, but not today.” He does let his eyes drift over the cakes on display though and you smile to yourself, you know the type, sooner or later he’ll cave and get something as a treat no matter how strong his resolve it. 

“Here you go,” you say, passing him his espresso, in a cup this time, “let me know what you think, if it’s good I might give it a permanent spot on the menu.” 

You both take a few sips of the coffee in silence, humming at the flavors. 

“It’s good,” Dave finally says, “Really good, I wouldn’t complain if it was a regular on the menu.” 

“I agree, I’m going to order more,” you reply, draining the cup as he pulls his wallet out of his pants. 

“Let me pay for both coffees,” he says, holding out his card, “as a thank you, for letting me come in and disturb you.” 

“You’re not disturbing, Dave,” you smile, “you can come in whenever you want.” 

“Even if I’m not on a stake out?” he asks, a small smile playing around his mouth and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“Especially when you’re not on a stake out,” you smile back and his dimple makes an appearance as his smile widens. 

“I’ll remember that,” he says, tapping his card to pay for both coffees, “I’ll see you tomorrow though, more stake out.” 

“See you tomorrow,” you say, returning the wave he gives you as he leaves. 

He’s back the next morning, already sitting in the car as you come out into the shop to open up for the day. He looks tired, yawning big and rubbing his hand over his eyes as he leans his head against the headrest. You glance over at him while you work and serve the small morning crowd, but he doesn’t look back at you. Saying goodbye to the last customer you look over at the car again, Dave’s head is flopped to the side, mouth hanging open and eyes closed, sound asleep. The sight is adorable, the big CIA agent clearly exhausted if he’s passed out on the job. You grab your travel mug, the one you keep filled with coffee through the morning, and give it a quick clean. Filling it up with a triple espresso shot from the beans you’d had with him yesterday, you screw on the top and exit the shop. He stirs as your shoes scuff over the asphalt, jerking up as you lightly tap the window. 

“Hey, want some coffee?” you ask, holding up the travel mug and he gives you such a look of relief and gratitude that it melts your heart. 

“Thanks,” he says once he’s cranked down the window in the old car, “I’m dead here, can’t keep my eyes open.” 

“Doesn’t do you much good on a stake out,” you say, “drop off the mug when you leave, and just wave at me if you want more coffee, I’ll come over with a refill.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he smiles, and you smile back, giving him a wave as you cross the street to the bakery. 

Dave stays a bit more alert through the rest of the day, and gets relieved earlier than usual. You smile when he comes into the shop. 

“Any luck with whatever you’re waiting for?” you ask as he hands you the travel mug. 

“No, and we’re running out of time, this might be a waste of resources,” he says, shaking his head and yawning widely, “I’m sorry, I was up late last night, working on this and then I couldn’t fall asleep, too much stuff on my mind.” 

“Go home, Dave,” you say, shooing him out of your shop with a smile, “You’re no good to anyone when you’re like this.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, “But I like our chats, makes this stake out more enjoyable than any other I’ve been on,” he suddenly looks a little bit shy as he’s half turned towards the door, a small smile as he looks back at you. 

“I like our chats too,” you say, butterflies erupting in the pit of your belly, and for a few seconds you’re just ogling each other like a couple of fools, both too shy to say anything else. Dave clears his throat, a small chuckling sound, and looks at his shoes before he glances up. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“See you tomorrow, Dave,” you give him a wave and a small smile, biting your lip to hold back the bigger one that’s being pushed up by the butterflies as he returns your smile and leaves. 

But the next morning you don’t see his car, or any other car that might be a covert CIA operation and you wonder if the stake out got canceled. The day passes slowly, the usual February slump slower than usual without Dave outside your window. Realizing you don’t have his number, you can only hope he’ll come back even though he’s not on a stake out. And when you finally see him the next afternoon, crossing the street at a slight jog to avoid a car, you feel yourself smiling before he’s even spotted you. When he pushes open the door he gives you a wide grin. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, coming up to the counter as you put away your phone. 

“Hi,” you smile at him, thanking your past self for changing the stained t-shirt and apron into something cuter, “I’m good, but things are slow today so I’m glad you’re here, it’s been kinda boring without the stake out to distract me.” 

He chuckles at that, looking out onto the spot where his car had been for the past three days. 

“Yeah, orders came yesterday to can it, another team has picked up a hotter lead so we’ve been working on that. But that place doesn't have any nice bakeries nearby, so it's a complete loss,” he says with a smile that makes your insides liquid. 

“So you’re actually here when not on a stake out?” you tease him and he laughs. 

“Told you I’d be back,” he says, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’s wearing up over his thick forearms and crossing his arms, scanning the coffee menu. “Should I go for another one of those nice beans, or should I be adventurous?” he asks. 

You give him a crooked smile, tilting your head like you’re assessing him and he raises an eyebrow in question at you. 

“What do you have in mind? That look is making me nervous.” 

“I’m thinking….” you begin, “the regular coffee, but…you get a snack too, one of the cakes.” 

Dave gives you a grin in response and begins to scan the cakes, “The carrot cake,” he says, pointing to one of the smallest slices covered in white cream cheese frosting.

“Good choice,” you smile, “it’s a best seller and I made it this morning.” You plate the slice and start making the coffee for him.

“It’s kinda healthy, right?” he asks, eyeing the carrot cake with suspicion, “It’s got carrots and all?” 

“I mean, it’s still got sugar and fat in it,” you chuckle, “but it’s made with vegetable oil and not butter, so there is that.” 

You bring the coffee to the counter and start making a coffee for yourself as Dave picks up the plate. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you sputter out as you watch him scrape the frosting off the cake with the spoon, “That’s the best part!” 

“It’s just fat and sugar,” he says, putting the dollop of frosting on the side of the plate, “I’m trying to stay healthy.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dave,” you smirk, “if you don’t eat that frosting on the cake like the baker intended, I don’t think this friendship is going to last.” You point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in a challenge. 

 “You know, I usually don’t eat sweet stuff, it’s the job,” he says, “I need to stay fit for it.” He’s toying with the cake, the intonation heavy on the 'eat'. He's not looking at you, but there’s a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. 

“So indulge a little, it’ll be worth it,” you smile and he looks up at you, his smirk suddenly changing into something more challenging as he seems to evaluate you in silence for several long seconds.

“Only if you’re on the menu,” he says, his dark eyes pinning you in place while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you on the menu?” 

The question is direct as he slowly raises his eyebrows, the intention clear.

You feel your brain grind to a halt, Dave’s dark brown eyes are boring into you as you slowly inhale, you feel like he’s flicked a switch and turned on his professional side, but he’s not using it to interrogate you. Instead he’s using it to put pressure on you, to get you to tell him what you want. 

What he wants. 

Glancing down at the plate still in his hand, he swipes his finger through the frosting and slowly rounds the counter, coming up to where you’re still standing frozen by the coffee machine. 

“Are you?” he says, repeating his question and slowly bringing his finger to his mouth, sucking the frosting off with a pop. 

The tip of your tongue comes out to lick across your top lip and Dave glances down at your mouth, following the movement. Taking a step closer, he’s almost touching you now, you can feel the scent of his cologne wash over you as his eyes come back up to yours. 

“I’d really like it, if you were on the menu,” he says, his voice low and dark, “but if you’re not, tell me, and I’ll leave.” 

You swallow, still transfixed by his dark eyes on you, the way he’s looking at you, like he’s trying to read you and succeeding. You slowly nod your head yes. 

Dave inhales softly, putting down the plate, “Use your words. Tell me I can kiss you,” he says, the frustration clearly thrumming just below the surface of his low tones as his breath skates across your cheek, his hands hovering just inches from your body, ready to grab as soon as you give him permission, “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all week but I couldn’t do anything.” 

A shiver runs through your body, your hand shaking as you put your coffee cup down, slowly putting both your hands on the front of his gray t-shirt, feeling the bunched up muscles flex under your palms as you slide them up to his shoulders. Dave is watching you intently, a small crease between his eyebrows, his fingers twitching by your waist. 

“Not here,” you say, dropping your hands to your sides, and side stepping him. He turns as you slip out past him, quickly walking the front door and locking it, flipping the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign. When you turn back, he’s still standing by the coffee machine and you pass him. 

“Less nosy neighbors in here,” you say, holding out your hand to him. 

He reacts in a heartbeat, taking your hand and crowding you as he pushes you further into the kitchen, out of sight. He lets go of your hand and grabs your waist, the other landing on your neck, his large hand easily spanning across it and up, cupping your cheek as he walks you backwards. The cool metal of the walk-in fridge hits your back and Dave’s towering over you, bending his face down so that his strong nose brushes against yours, his eyes almost black under his eyebrows, pulled together tight, and the hand at your waist bunching up your shirt. 

“Now?” he husks and you nod. 

“Yes, now.” 

His mouth is hot when it reaches yours in a flash, he’s pushing you further up against the fridge as he angles his head to have more. There’s an edge of desperation to the way he holds you. The hand on your cheek keeps you where he needs you as he licks the seam of your lips. When you part them, his tongue is eager and needy, a groan escaping from somewhere deep inside of him and you pant into his mouth as his sounds fire up your brain. Heat shoots through your body like rocket fuel ignited, the cool metal behind you a sharp contrast to the solid warmth of Dave’s body in front when he pulls you closer with his hand on your waist, tugging you into him. 

It’s messy, tongues and teeth fighting for control, your hands in his hair, his thick fingers grabbing your neck, his thigh between your legs. There’s no hiding the arousal coursing through you both as you moan at the way he rubs over your core, his low groans mixed in when he rolls his hard length into your hip. 

He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling back your head and trailing wet kisses across your throat, sucking a mark into where shoulder meets neck, moving up again, his teeth gently tugging on your earlobe before you gasp when he nips at the soft skin just underneath. 

“I’ve been fucking dreaming about how you’d sound when I did this,” he growls when you moan loudly into the silent kitchen, “sound so pretty, so fucking sweet.” His hand on your waist tightens, he’s pulling you down onto his leg, rocking into you as you clamor for a grip, tugging at his hair, loud, satisfied groan coming from Dave. 

“I wanna hear what you sound like when you come,” he mutters, moving his mouth up to yours again, biting your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue coming out to caress it, taste it, before he lets go.

Pulling back a little, he looks down at you. You meet his dark eyes, lust clouding them as you gasp at the way his thick thigh creates just enough friction to make you convulse under his firm grip. 

“So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, a tone to his voice like he’s been craving this, “always looking at me from the bakery, always smelling so good, so tempting. Been wanting to do this since the first day, just get you in here and make you come all over my leg, hear you say my name.” 

You try to unscramble your brain, it’s hazy with arousal, the coil that he’s wound so tightly about to snap. But all you can feel is the tell tale tingling that’s started in your core and you close your eyes, the feeling radiating out from where his thigh rubs against you. 

“No, keep them open for me, baby,” Dave growls, “keep your eyes on me,” his voice forcing you to look up at him as it hits. 

“Dave…” you gasp, “Pl-please, Dave…” 

It shoots through your system like electricity, your legs closing around his, your skin burning as he kisses you, swallowing down your cries of his name as he keeps moving his leg, working you through the high until your muscles finally relax. 

He holds you up, his arm around your waist now, as his kisses soften. Soft movements across your lips, his tongue gently teasing yours until he pulls back a little, pressing his lips against yours, foreheads touching as you take a deep breath and you can feel him smile against you.

He moves his leg back, bending down and grabbing hold of your thighs, picking you up like you weigh nothing. With your arms around his neck, you hold on until he sets you down on the workbench, his hard erection is pressed tight between you but he seems to ignore it. 

“You ok?” he asks quietly, bending down and pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck, “seemed like you needed that.” His chuckle is low and amused as you sigh deeply. 

“That’s how you indulge?” you ask, caressing the back of his head, raking your fingers through his thick hair. 

“Better for your body than that carrot cake,” he smirks, pulling back a bit so that he can look at you while he cups your jaw and strokes his thumb over cheek. 

“I told you, this friendship won’t last if you don’t eat the frosting,” you give him a small smile, your body still humming. 

Dave gives you a smug look, “I don’t want your friendship, I want your frosting,” he says with a grin, tugging gently at your chin so that he can press his lips to yours and slip his tongue inside before your addled brain can come up with a comeback. 

The kiss is languid and slow, Dave takes his time, holding you back as you try to pull him closer, your hands still in his hair. After several long minutes he reaches up and untangles your fingers and pulls them down to your sides. 

“I’m leaving now,” he says against your mouth, his lips brushing over yours, “And I want you to be good. I have to go take care of something on that case. Close the shop when you’re done, go home, I’ll come by later.” There’s a promise in his low tone, in the way he nips at your bottom lip one last time and his fingers dig into your hips as he moves around your neck.

“Listen,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

Part Twelve

Series Master List

Ok, so that got spicier then intended right? I don't know what to say, Dave just stepped in and took over.... blame him or thank him!

For the cake, this recipe uses pecans but I prefer walnuts but you can also leave them out if you want too. But it really is a very good cake...

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers  

[onmyyan]

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A/N: Mariah Carey voice* ITS TIIIIME Smut will be in part three and I hope y’all enjoy!!! 17.1 pages, 6,340 words NOT EDITED

PART TWO

TW'S: YANDERE, MURDER, YANDERE HAREM, MANIPULAION, DRUGGING, SHARED DARLING, BLOOD,SUGGESTIVE BIT TOWARDS THE END, JEALOUSLY, READER HAD A BAD CHILDHOOD, CHILD NEGLECT, KIDNAPPING IS PLANNED IN DETAIL

If someone told you a week ago that your childhood best friends were planning some huge conspiracy to kidnap you, You'd of laughed in their faces.

After all, your boys couldn't be capable of something like that.

Right?

Sure they were a little more intense than the average person, but that's just how they've always been!

Growing up as the next-door neighbor to the Delmont Family used to be something you'd take great joy in, you would thank the stars you'd gotten lucky enough to be in their presence, how insanely loving they were to you from the second you entered their lives.

The family had taken you in more times than you could remember, whenever your parents fell through- be it picking you up from school hours late or forgetting to leave food money when they left you home alone, you were forced to care for yourself way too young and it didn't go unnoticed by the Delmont's.

Caspian recalls the day he'd first seen you vividly. He was twelve years old at the time and had just gotten into a rather nasty fight with his old man, he'd sulked his way outside to his small garden bed of herbs and veggies, the tiny oasis was a birthday gift from his mother last year, anytime life got too hard for the young boy he found himself kneeling in the dirt, and it's here he spots you.

Your small form sat idly in front of the T.V., a large blanket draped over your shoulders, he was confused, it was early in the day, why were you all alone? He checked your front yard to confirm his suspensions and it only made him sadder to see your parent's car's missing from the driveway.

He watched as you numbly munched on some dry cereal, but what really caught his eye were the tears running down your chubby cheeks, his chest began to ache at the sight, you couldn't have been much older than his youngest brothers, and be it his older brother instincts or the way you looked so sad, he was soon in the kitchen, furiously gathering all he needed to bake his mama's special cookies, the treats always managed to cheer him up, so he hoped they'd do the same for you.

When his mother came down to see her oldest baking as he'd never done before, she asked what the rush was. "I think our neighbor is sad mama- she looks all alone I just thought your cookies would make her feel better." His eyebrows were furrowed in the cutest form of frustration, she mentally cooed over him, how sweet he was, before beginning to wash her hands.

"Well, we better hurry up and give em' to her then." With the two working in tandem, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet outside your door in no time, the plate of warm treats made his hands hot, but he needed to be the one to give these to you. He wanted you to know you had someone in your corner.

His mother knocked on the door, her face twisting as she realized you were truly by yourself. The small pitter-patter of bare feet came closer before the door was swung open.

"Mama's not home." Was the first thing you said as if practiced. Both Delmonts felt their heart clench at the sight of you, you had bags under your eyes, your hair was messy as if you'd done it yourself, and the crumbs from something stuck haphazardly to the sweater you had on.

"Hi Honey, my name is Carla Delmont, I live right there with my family, this is my son Caspian- say hi mijo."

The awestruck boy shook himself from his stupor and thrust the plate forward. "Hi, there! Um. I-we made these for you." You stared at him with that blank look in your eye, at his words warmth seemed to pool into your gaze, the soft gapped tooth smile you gave him had his heart hammering in his chest, gently your small hands reached out to grab it, fingers touching his for a split second, but that's all it took for a bolt to shoot up his arm.

"Thank you! I'm (Y/N), we were supposed to come over and say hi when we moved in but I think mommy forgot."

She didn't want to assume something so harsh so early, but based on the way you looked and spoke, she couldn't help the sinking feeling that said your parents weren't the greatest at caring for you.

"Well how about this, when she gets home tonight you two come over for dinner hm?" Caspian had this hopeful look on his face as if urging you to say agree.

"Sure! I um, I dunno when she's coming home but that sounds fun." Your eyes lost a bit of twinkle at the thought, the older woman leaned down to put her hand on your shoulder, "Well if you get hungry before then come over. I'll even call your mom so she doesn't get worried okay?"

And that's exactly what you did anytime your parents went MIA, they knew they could find you next door.

A few hours later the matriarch heard the smallest knock at the door. She opened it with a warmth you weren't used to, ushering you inside before you could change your mind, she could see how nervous you were.

"Gabriel! Tell your brother to set another plate, we have a guest." The tall red-haired boy seemed to perk up at the request of his mother, nodding so fast you're sure he got whiplash, he took off, not before shooting you a big toothy grin, and soon returned red-faced and out of breath.

"Hi! I'm Gabriel but you can call me Gabe- do you like dogs? We have a dog, her name is Sophie, she's a pitbull and we had to put her outside cuz she bit Father. I thought it was pretty funny but he didn't." He rambled bouncing from either foot.

"Hi, Gabe- I'm (Y/n)." Despite baby, you's poor social skills Gabe didn't skip a beat as he stuck out his hand, grabbing your own in a gentle grip "Can we go play Mama?" The older woman sighed gently brushing fly-away curls from her second oldest's face.

"Yes mijo, just don't let (Y/n) get hurt okay? You boys can be so rough I don't want a single scratch on her understand?" He suddenly looked as serious as he could, nodding sternly to his mother, "Pinkie swear." She had no idea just how long he'd keep that promise.

And just what lengths he'd go to to do so.

He led the way through their comforting home with a gentle grip, careful not to hurt your smaller hand. The second the twins caught sight of you they abandoned whatever they were doing, tripping over themselves to say hello.

The twins looked nearly identical, the only way you could tell the two apart is if you really looked at Manny, the smaller boy had the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen, when you told him this he had to pull his shirt over his face to hide the red hot blush on his cheeks.

Marcos was so excited to meet a new friend, and his age no less! He spent the whole time outside asking you questions and trying to show off, the quiet boy sitting on the porch swing gave you a simple smile, introducing himself as Ricky, "I like your hair! It's so long and pretty!" You gushed over the long locks, he turned cherry red and decided then and there he'd never cut it short.

Time flew by in the sweetest moments, and before you knew it you were about to start High school.

About a week before the mandatory orientation you and the twins were set to attend, the parental unit sat you down in their living room, it felt odd being summoned without any of the boys, it didn't occur to you until that moment that you've never been in their home without one or more of them lingering around you, so to say you felt out of place was an understatement.

The way their Father was staring you down only added to your stress, but then again you learned long ago he just looked like he wanted to murder everyone in the room, he was quite sweet to you, often treating you like the daughter he never had,

"Am I in trouble?" You asked with a nervous laugh, hands wringing themselves ragged under the table.

"Of course not Hun! We were just talking about how you spend so much time here and how you're always bouncing back and forth." Carla sat down at the table to lay her hand palm side up, her silent request was met by you giving her your own, she began rubbing calming circles into the skin, trying to pacify your unease.

The effect of your absence on the boys, no matter how short of a duration, was becoming more and more volatile. Manny had begun acting out the longer you spent out of his reach, he'd be in such a foul mood he'd start snapping at his twin, a feat that unnerved everyone in the house because if Manny was mad enough to actually raise his voice at Marcos, something was very wrong in the universe.

Anytime you were not under the watchful gaze of one of her sons they seemed to deflate, curl into themselves. The clouds hanging over each of their heads, made the whole house feel like a ticking time bomb, she wasn't a dumb woman, she knew exactly who her husband was and exactly how alike her children were.

They were all so loving and kind, most of society couldn't understand the deep, raw, brutally honest way they felt their feelings, but she could, she knew what her sons needed to keep their heads on straight.

It seemed like the most rational course of action to the older woman, the way their heavy mood would instantly dissipate whenever your presence was near, plus she adored you like one of her own.

"We want you to move in you're practically my daughter already and it just is so lovely having you home, where we know you're safe." You felt your eyes widen at the statement, a million things ran through your mind but the strongest feeling was this warmth, your eyes begin to water, opening and closing your mouth in shock at the generous offer, "Oh god- that's the nicest thing anyone's ever offered me but- I don't know how long it'll take me to get a job-" the older woman's usually soft features soured at the words, "What job? You're just a child, don't worry your pretty head about any of that. Besides you stay here so often that nothing would really change." She looked to her husband to continue.

Their father wasn't much of a talker but whenever he did speak to you it was always awkwardly pleasant. "Before you start with that crap- it's nothing and you're already family so quit the yappin' and move your shit in your room already."

Your parents put up a bit of a fight but ultimately relented, knowing you were never as happy as you were when with the Delmonts.

That decision was what truly sealed your fate.

As you grew up alongside them, their toxic behavior seemed like the norm.

As if it was normal for the brothers to be the only friends you had, Marcos isn't proud of it but he'd use his popularity to slander your name, start a rumor here and there- nothing too bad! Just enough lies to keep the general population uninterested in you, if anyone ever dared to hurt you in any way because of these actions they'd be stopped before they got the chance.

In Marco's mind, it was a flawless plan because neither he nor his twin would let anything close enough to even touch you, they never left your side, going so far as to threaten the principal into giving you all the same classes, he was happy to keep lying if it meant you only looked to them for comfort.

It seemed perfectly fine for Ricky to stop you one day and ask you to install a tracking app on your phone, "You never know what kinda' psychos you're dealing with, at least with this I'll always know where you are- just in case." He spoke so confidently and so surely, you never questioned him, Ricky was the smartest person you knew, and he was always watching your back in ways you didn't even know you needed.

Gabe had this habit where he'd hover, like a guard dog, no matter how old you got he never grew out of his habit of looming over your shoulder, ready and waiting for a threat so he could sink his teeth into it, but their grip wasn't always as tight as it was today.

Before the unanimous decision to keep you to themselves, you'd managed to get a crush on some lowlife boy in your class, he'd gotten wind of your feelings and he thought it be funny to ask you out as some kind of cruel joke when you'd inevitably found out, you'd rushed home after school, not having it in you to wait for the twins like always, you felt too embarrassed to face them. Thankfully Gabe had football practice and Caspian had his cooking club, and you knew Ricky went straight to the shop after school so you managed to sneak into the house, undetected.

That is where mama Delmont found you a good two hours later, the boys still weren't home, and she thanked god because when she caught sight of your still sobbing form, buried face first in your pillow, the silent cries soaking into the fabric.

You were all but inconsolable, weeping into her arms as she tried in vain to soothe you. Had you looked up you would have seen the fear on her face. Because she knew something awful would come of this.

It didn't take long for the tale-tell the sound of their front door slamming shut. She heard a distinct set of footsteps running towards the (h/c) haired girl's room. She quickly stood to her feet and intercepted the two troublemakers before they could enter.

"Is she here? She left before us." Manny looked frantic, wide eyes darting from the door behind his mother to his twin. "That isn't like her, sum' wrong I just know it." Marcos placed a comforting hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "What happened Ma?"

She managed to get a few words out of you that summed up the situation. "Some stupid boy hurt her feelings. I think she's feeling a little embarrassed so maybe-" before she could finish Manny's hand gently moved her aside before slinking into your room, Marcos followed after only seconds behind him.

They spent a good hour coaxing the full story from you, sandwiching your sniffling body between them in a bear hug from both sides.

After the older brothers all got home, Marcos took the initiative to fill them in, mostly because Manny refused to leave your side, and Gabe had to leave the room because he needed to hit something, bad.

He was quiet as a ghost that night at dinner, in fact, most of the boys were, as your disheartened face was all too fresh in their minds. Caspian gave Gabe a look before he went to bed, a silent conversation taking place between the two.

In the dead of night Gabe snuck out his window and took off like a bloodhound, it took little to no effort to get the kid's full name from the school's website, and he soon after found his address.

He waited in the shadows, hood pulled up, the facemask he wore concealed the snarl on his face, the baseball cap shrouding his poisonous glare.

Gabe's ruby eyes were like slits as he waited, silent and still as a statue. His all-black outfit blended him seamlessly into the darkness, he forced his trembling hands to remain by his side, feeling himself vibrate in his skin, the rage bubbling under the surface threatening to pour over and consume him, but he made himself be still.

His efforts in self-control were rewarded as the teen who'd made the fatal mistake of breaking your heart walked out his backdoor with a trash bag in hand. He dragged his feet towards the can without a care in the world. Unknowingly delivering himself to his end.

Before he could lift the lid his neck was grabbed in a vice-like grip, Gabe yanked him into the bushes, dragging the scrawny guy by his throat he finally stopped once he found something hard enough to slam him into.

The surprised yelp that left his mouth brought a small sliver of joy to Gabe.

But not nearly as much joy as it brought to knock his skull against the concrete, his hand was so big he only needed one to do it.

He'd only gone out that night with the intention of roughing him up, making him pay for your tears with his blood, but the longer he wailed on the sputtering male, the angrier he got.

"Fucking piece of shit!- you got some kinda' nerve!" He stopped his assault to bring the bloodied face closer to his own. "You fuck with her feelings like that and expect to just walk away?"

To be blessed with your love, to reject it so coldly? The venomous mix of jealousy and anger had him repeating the violent motion until the other male's face turned to unrecognizable mush.

When he made it home, after dumping the body in its own garbage can, of course, Ricky and Caspian were up waiting for him in his room.

"You do it?" The youngest of the three asked chewing his thumb, eyes flickering to and from the door as if he expected his parents to burst in, while Caspian handed Gabe a warm towel, knowing he'd come home covered in gore.

The proud smile on his face was all the reassurance Gabe needed.

"I had to." Gabe began wiping at his soaking hands, the pride in defending your honor had the adrenaline pumping. Ricky gave his older brother a small smile, nodding to himself, "Course you did big guy- c'mon get clean then meet us in the garage."

After tossing his blood-soaked garments in a bag to deal with later, he joined his brothers downstairs. They kept the lights off in order not to arouse suspicion.

"Ricky has an idea," Caspian said as soon as Gabe entered, he was leaning against his father's car, a hand toying with his bottom lip, a look of contemplation.

Ricky made a point to look across each of his siblings before starting.

"We can't let what happened today happen again." The long-haired man spoke leaning on the red workbench with his knuckles.

"She sees the best in everyone which means it falls to us to keep the scum of the world at bay."

"Look what happened when we didn't have our eye on her for one second, she still up there crying, and if we don't do somethin' now we're just as bad as the piece of shit who made her like that." He watched the way each of their faces scrunched in displeasure.

"It's gone on unspoken for years but since we all clearly care about her we need to come to an agreement, here and now."

Their silence told him to continue, "We all want her, and we can either kill each other about it or we can come to a compromise."

"What kind of compromise?" Marcos asked from his seat on the washing machine. His smirk told Ricky he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"We share. Simple."

"Agreed- I know nobody but us would love her the way she deserves, seems rational t'me." Caspian spoke up quickly, making his way to Ricky's side, clapping a supporting hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"What if I-someone gets jealous?" Manny asked toying with the fabric of his sleeves, his eyes darting from sibling to sibling. "Then we talk about it- the only way this works is if the communication is on point. You feel like someone's hoggin' her, tell us okay?" Ricky spoke softly, despite the pain in his ass Manny was on a daily, he had a soft spot for the guy.

"We gotta' make it official! Ooh, what about a blood pact!" Marcos jumped off the machine, wildly gesturing with his hands.

"You dumb fuck we already share the same blood." Ricky rolled his eyes so hard he swore he saw his brain, Gabe snickered at the jab, throwing his obnoxiously large arm over the smaller man's shoulder. "C'mon Rick, baby boy just wants to make it official- let the little weirdo do his blood thing."

From that night on, after a quick cut to each of their palms, they were sworn to you.

Ricky had made it abundantly clear they couldn't move too fast or you'd freak out, so they wait it out, slowly prepping you for the day when they can finally stop hiding their devotion.

But they're not all that good at hiding it, it slipped out in lots of little ways.

Caspian always had you eating, he made a point to make little snack bags for you before school each morning, even if he didn't go to school that day he'd made sure one of his siblings got you your treat, and he left little encouraging notes in each one. The side you didn't get to see was how he intercepted every love note and gift that wasn't from him or his brothers, ripping and tearing at the items like an animal. Only to replace them with his own. Anonymous of course.

The Twins did a pretty good job keeping everyone else away since they were around you the most, one would distract you while the other beat the shit out of anyone who even thought to cause you problems.

By the time of your 22nd birthday, you'd long since moved into your own place, a place they helped you pick out of course, not too far from each of them, Caspian made sure to install some cameras the day he helped you move in.

They'd each fallen so deep into their obsession, there was no hope for you.

But you were none the wiser.

After all, why would you expect any of them to harbor romantic feelings when you've known them nearly all your life? When they treated you like their own family?

Marcos was a lover by nature, he had a different hottie on his arm faster than you could count, it seemed like before you could ask their name he'd replace them. And this was completely on purpose.

He was so terribly afraid you'd see through him, catch on to the truly dark, ever-growing feelings, and turn tail, he made a point to discuss his late-night adventures with you always hanging off your reaction, hoping one day he'd see a flicker of jealousy in your eye, just so he had an excuse to tell you what he so desperately hid.

You have no idea he's imagining your face every time he's intimate with someone, how his dates always had some sort of echo of your being, be it (e/c) eyes or the same haircut, he sought you out in everyone.

Cas and Gabe always tried to take care of you, be it making sure you ate that day or walking on the street side of the sidewalk just in case, they'd been doing these little things for as long as you can remember, the almost possessive way they cared for you had gone on so long you no longer batted an eye when they got in one of their moods, you just assumed that brotherly instinct to provide carried over to adulthood.

You were completely unaware of the darkness in their hearts.

Ricky confided in you much like the way a husband would, he made a point to fall asleep with you whenever he got the chance, he liked to imagine you were his, enjoying the domestic way you snuggled into him, or how you always went to him to unwind from your day, it fueled his deepening obsession.

He often has you over, tucked away in his room, just having you close by relaxes him completely. Funny considering all you do is just exist in the same space and suddenly his migraine is gone and he smiles for the first time that day, you just think you're being a good friend, but to Ricky, you're giving him a space to safely bare his soul and he doesn't take this kindness lightly.

Manny is your self-proclaimed best friend, he spoke to you the most and was at your place so often he had a drawer just for his clothes. He believes the two of you are not only soulmates but twin flames.

The way you sync up is too perfect to not be a love destined for the stars!

It was one of those days where he was lounging around your place like a house cat, sprawled out on your bed, head fuzzy from being surrounded by your heavenly scent. The grin on his face only grew at the sight of your towel-clad form, you were so comfortable around him this was normal, but he never got used to being so fucking close to you like this, he could see the sporadic beads of water falling down the crevice of your chest. His throat tightened as he watched the droplet fall. His tongue flicking out over his canines, his ring-clad fingers gripped the cotton of your sheets in an attempt to calm down.

The sight had him turning to lay on his stomach, in an attempt to hide his growing hard-on, he pretended to be scrolling on his phone, eyes frantically flicking from your goddess-like form. "Sorry- didn't know you were coming over or I woulda' showered sooner, you don't mind if I get ready right?"

Manny swallowed dryly, not trusting his voice at the moment.

"Mmhm" His bright orange eyes never left your form as you shimmied your underwear on under the towel. You were talking but all the blood from his head was rushing south, so he didn't catch a word until you said,

"-date, I mean I've never been on a real one so I'm nervous ya know? I almost called Marcos up to ask for advice but he'd never let me live it down." You giggled to yourself slipping on the lace bra. Meanwhile, his mind was melting. How could you drop such a bomb on him at a time like this?! he was torn between kissing you and bursting into tears.

"W-uh, date? like with a person?" he tried to keep his tone light, but he could feel himself beginning to unravel at the seams. His hands anxiously wringing themselves in his lap. He'd sat up the second he heard the word date come out of your mouth. His shoulders tense as if he were about to pounce.

"Yeah, you know that cute guy from the cafe we go to? He wrote his number on my receipt yesterday and I dunno," You paused to brush a few stray strands away, "I just guess I thought 'god (y/n) you're a twenty-two-year-old virgin and if you keep being the hermit you are, that will never change'." you said slipping on a knit sweater, "Just feels kinda nice to be wanted you know?" You offered a shrug as you began browsing your clothes for bottoms that satisfied you, completely unaware of the total mental breakdown your bestie was having on your bed.

He made up some half-baked excuse to leave and all but ran to his car. He could hardly close the door from how blurred his vision was, hot, salty tears cascading down his face, his cheeks flushed in unfiltered frustration, You wanted to feel desired? God, he could wring Ricky's neck right now, if Manny had it his way you'd have been theirs ages ago, but nooo, Ricky said to play it cool- now look what happened, he could hardly breathe as he hit his speed dial.

"Yo-" Marcos was interrupted by the loud sob from his younger brother, he immediately brushed the person off his lap and made his way outside, face set in stone, knowing his twin he figured it could be anything that set him off.

"Ya gotta breathe little man- y'know I can't understand you when you get like this." he sighed through his nose, his index and thumb fingers gently massaging the bridge of his nose.

"SHE'S GOING ON A- A DATEEE." Now that Marcos could understand, his eyes widened as he laughed to himself in disbelief.

"No she's not." he shook his head, an empty smile on his face, as he kept waiting for the 'gotcha'

"She is! I-I was at her h-house and she," he cut himself off with another whimper, Marcos, feeling his blood pressure reach a dangerous new high forced his tone to be as calm as he could, "What even- How is that even possible? We're with her 24/7, how in the fuck-" he scoffed cutting himself off. "Look where are you? I'll come with Cas, he'll get your car while you ride back with me and tell me exactly what she said." Manny gave him a shakey 'okay' before sending his location. 

It wasn't rare for all the Delmont boys to be together in one room, in fact, they had weekly meetings just to talk about everything cute you did that week.

This was different.

The air in the room felt dark. Like all their negative emotions had festered into a poison.

Ricky had called them all to his home office since his place was the biggest.

He was the last to arrive as he'd been hard at work in his father's shop- he dropped everything the second he got Caspian's call. Gabe sat in his desk chair, he flipped a pen back and forth between his fingers, the dark look in his eye meant nothing but trouble if Ricky didn't fix this soon. The twins were huddled on the couch he'd put in just so you had somewhere comfy to be when you visited. Marcos had a lit joint between his teeth, his right leg shaking rather aggressively, he made sure to look Ricky in the eye before ashing it on his previously clean floor.

Manny wouldn't even look at him when he entered, so he knew he was pissed.

Caspian was the only one to properly greet him, but even he could see the horrid mood he hid just under the surface.

After a moment of tense silence, Ricky exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Okay I'll say it, I fucked up." his admission of guilt broke Caspian's foul mood immediately, he knew his brother well enough to know pushing you into some random nobody's arms was the very last thing he wanted. The taller man moved closer to rub Ricky's back affectionately.

"We know you were just doing what you thought was best right guys?" It was rare for Caspian to use his 'Big Brother' voice on them so they knew he was serious. Manny's glare had turned into a small pout, finally looking at his older brother.

"What now Ricky? We do everything you say no question, no matter how many times I wanted to just take her in my arms and hold her the way she deserves- you said not yet." He pointed his finger at the older man, "Well now she's on a date with some fuckin' loser and she has no idea how we feel." Manny had stood during his rant, beginning to pace the room, his hands on his hips. "I know bud, look I thought we'd scare her off but clearly I was wrong." He flicked his tongue against his cheek. 

Ricky made his way to his desk, not so gently pushing Gabe and the chair he occupied out of the way. After a few moments under the watchful eye of his kin, he flipped the computer monitor around.

Gabe scooted back over with a sour look on his face, clearly not pleased with his previous removal, his face twisted into pure confusion at the content on the screen.

"You bought a house? This is in the middle of nowhere."

"Exactly." Ricky crossed his arms, anxiously chewing his thumb as the four of them crowded around the desk.

"Is this-" Marcos gaped at the images, his mind running a mile a minute as he realized what it meant.

"Home. Like the forever home ." Ricky then pulled out a manila folder from the drawer to his right. He flipped it open, his heart pounding, as he set it before them. Inside was all the detailed information he'd been collecting over the years, ever the perfectionist he knew he had to pick a place perfect for all of you.

"I've been looking at the land for years, the property is close to a small town but deep enough in the woods that we won't have to worry about strangers. There's a Gym in the basement-" He was cut off by Manny throwing his arms around his shoulders. 

"It's so perfect! She loves the forest oh my god she's gonna be so excited! When can we go?- Wait How are we gonna get her to go if she's too busy dating that asshole?" The speed at which his emotions flipped could be scary, but they wouldn't have him any other way, Ricky awkwardly returned the hug with a few pats on his back.

"Don't worry, I have an idea for that too," He turned to face the hulking blue-haired man still in his seat, Gabe pointed at his chest with his thumb, a goofy smile on his face, "Moi? What can I do for ya squirt?" Ricky ignored the nickname, "You gotta get rid of that guy before she goes on the date, I don't care how you do it, just make sure he doesn't show up." Gabe stood up so fast the chair shot backward, he put two fingers to his forehead and gave them all a wolfish grin. "One dead son'ofa'bitch coming right up."

The long-haired man then turned to his oldest brother, handing him a pair of keys from the same drawer he pulled the file from. "Cas I need you to stock up on about two weeks worth of food and anything else you think we'll need, she's gonna need an adjustment period so we gotta be prepared not to leave for a while." Caspian took the keys with a smile, affectionately rubbing the twin's heads as he all but ran to his car. "Oh! I'll get started on dinner soon as I get there-" The gentle giant trailed off now talking to himself.

"Okay, you two probably got the most important jobs, think you can handle it?"

Both men nodded their heads simultaneously, each looking like a puppy about to get a treat, which in a way, was exactly what they were.

"When that dickhead inevitably stands her up tonight I need you two to be there for her, order some comfort food, and when I text you the signal, give her these." He handed them a small bag of pills. "Gotta make sure she eats or drinks at least two of em', she should be out like a light in no time and when that happens, Marcos will pack everything on this list." Ricky handed him the paper with a stern look, "No extra, just what's on here got it?"

"I'm not gonna steal her panties or somethin'- I'm not Gabe." The older twin scoffed taking the list with a pout. "Considering we're trying to make it look like a voluntary vacation, we can't take any risks okay?" The older twin nodded, happy to be given the task around you.

Before the two buzzing men left for their tasks, the oldest one turned to Ricky with an evil little smirk, "What'r yooou gonna do while we're out doing all the leg work hm?" 

"Somebody's gotta make the world believe she's going, I'm just gonna go on all her socials and leave a long enough trail of evidence that if anyone does come sniffing around, it looks like she's been planning to leave for a while." He shrugged as if it was normal making Marcos laugh so hard he had to lean against the door frame. 

"What an evil genius."

[swifty-fox]

does Outlaw John ever take Outlaw Gale on a proper date? #mushhhhy

still circling my brain

John was a horrible liar when it didn't count.

Vibrating with a secret like a young dog asked to sit still, tapping his fingers over the nearest surface and grinning in quick eager flashes rather than a sustained joy. He held a secret like one held a hot coal, bouncing it between his palms and hopping from foot to foot with frenetic energy. It practically rolled off of him, the anticipation and excitement.

It didn't take Gale long to pick up on the tells, which lead him to thwarting John at every turn by guess. When he found Gale's favorite flavor of twizzlers he kept patting his pocket where the candy lay hidden. When he'd shoplifted an expensive brand of shampoo Gale had once mentioned he enjoyed his snapping blue gaze kept drifting to the bag by Gale's feet. When he found a handkerchief that perfectly matched Gale's eyes the other man kept adjusting the backpack so often Gale had simply fished around for the prize himself, deaf to John's protests.

To combat this weakness, John had taken to going exceptionally quiet and disengaged when hiding a secret from Gale. It was such a distinct difference from his normal behavior that the effort was entirely for nothing.

So when Gale slides into the passenger seat, two slushies in his arms - Blue and Cherry for John, Cola flavored for Gale - and sees the other man folding a paper with forced causality and looking out the windshield with exaggerated causality Gale just fixes him with a narrowed look.

"Gas is paid for," he says, and John grunts which has Gale biting the insides of his lips against a smile.

John pulls out of the gas station, graciously left unrobbed aside from the lollipop and handful of pixie stix burning a hole in Gale's pocket, and a new lighter for John, and a couple of bottles of coke, and a few slim jims, and -

Well. There wasn't a gun involved.

Gale gives him five minutes to break and when that's not enough begins casually casting his eyes around the inside of the car, tugging down the mirror and toeing the backpack at his feet.

"Don't," John says, "you're not-"

"I always do," Gale drawls.

"Stop."

"So just give it to me then."

"You're not gonna find it."

Gale leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes, settling like he might fall asleep, "Alright then."

Unlike John, Gale is very good at bluffing. He hears John huff and then fiddle with the radio. Drum his fingers on the steering wheel ina quick vibration tap against the worn leather. Rolls down the window . Fiddles with the crotchety radio again and starts singing along Hendrix's Hey Joe.

Hey, Joe, Where you gonna run to now? Where you gonna run to?

"Is it a new radio?"

"Fuck you the radio is fine and no quit trying to figure it out. I've got you beat this time."

"Okay."

Tap Tap Tap. John switches the radio again, switches it back to Hendrix and blows a puff of hair through his lips.

"It's not a thing."

"I thought we weren't guessing."

John leans over and pokes him, catches Gale's hand and presses a kissto his knuckles, "We're not. I'm just telling you. So you can stop pretending to nap to try to get me to break. I'm not breaking."

Biting back another smile Gale opens his eyes again and sits up, crossing his legs up on the seat.

"I could break you," He said simply, drawing his braid over his shoulder and unraveling it absently.

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

To his credit, John keeps his secret under wraps and though he peppers Gale with constant inane topics to avoid spilling his guts, it's really not much different than a John who's slammed twelve redbulls with the goal of staying awake long enough to get across all of Montana.

He'd been violently ill in a bush four hours in and Gale bit back his 'i told you so' with saint-like dedication.

Gale has spent the last forty-five minutes dozing as the sun slides down behind the horizon, answering John's yammering with hums and vague responses, and the feeling of the car stopping jolts him back to wakefulness. He'd left his hair unbound and the sweaty strands stick to the back of his neck as he sits up and looks around. Frowns

"I'm not camping in an abandoned fairground Bucky."

"This isn't Killer Klowns, relax."

Gale watches John shoulder a backpack, rapping one large hand on the roof of the car, before beginning to scale the padlocked gates.

Dropping his head back against the seat, Gale mutters a quick curse to the tan ceiling and unbuckles himself with vehemence, letting the metal buckle thwap against the door and slipping out the open window.

"I'm not saving you if you get stabbed, John," He calls while braced against the roof of the car.

John waves him off, dust clouding around his sneakers as he lands on the other side of the gates. Muttering under his breath, Gale follows him, nearly stumbles on the other side but recovers quickly and pops a stick of gum in his mouth to get rid of the 'slept in a car all day' funk at the back of his teeth.

The fairground isn't just closed, but abandoned. Skeletons of ten frames and grooves in the dirt where rides had once sat like ugly sleeping beasts. A ticket booth half smashed to bits and covered in grafitti, strewn bits of ribbons and muddy stuffed animals and booths that were once brightly colored but had long since faded under the years of sun.

It sets Gale's skin crawling and he almost hesitates to follow John between two booths.

"Would you quit being a fucking loon, John," He calls.

"Quit being a scaredy-cat Buck. Or do you not want your surprise?"

Muttering once again, he follows after him and into a half-crumbling building that probably should have been knocked down long ago. The entire thing seemed to be leaning to one side, with half the windows boarded up and the other so eaten over by kudzu there's no telling the color of the paint underneath.

Their footsteps echo inside and John pauses at the shadowed ticketline, reaching into the booth to snag a ring of dusty keys off the hook. Taking his cap off to run a hand through his sweaty hair and then placing it on backwards, he unlocks the mesh gates and shoves them open with a grunt.

He reaches back a hand without even bothering to check Gale's feelings on the matter and he scowls at the other man but take his hand anyway. Tries not to give into the fondness as John squeezes his fingers just slightly and offers him a guileless smile.

"Trust me Buck, you're gonna love it."

"I love twizzlers and the open sky and non-creepy fairgrounds with lots of people."

"You're gonna love it," John insists, dragging him down the hallway with a cheerful whistle.

Gale loves him, more than a lot and well past the point that felt scary. Felt like something that might fuck him up forever.

It's dark enough Gale can only see the vague silhouette of John in front of him but the other man seems to know where he's going because he ventures forward without hesitating until they come to an open circular room.

By the stains on the ground there might have once been tables and chairs, but now the space was empty. John drops his hand after another quick kiss to the knuckles and sets about tugging out a rolled up blanket from the backpack, spreading it out on the floor in a puff of dust. Gale watches with some degree of bemusement as John sets up several white chunky candles, like the kind they use in Christmas displays, lighting them with a jacked lighter, the flame stinging Gale's eyes with its over-the-top brightness in the gloom.

"Sit," John says, hissing and shaking his hand as the fire catches his thumb.

Gale eyes him suspiciously for moments more then slowly folds himself cross-legged onto the blanket, pulling his hair over one shoulder and finger-combing it as he looks around.

"How'd you find this place?"

"Partied here once a few years ago. Puked right in that corner," John points.

"You're ridiculously charming," Gale says dryly. John's face crinkles into a smile and it does something painful to Gale's chest so he looks up instead, curious to see how high the ceiling went. Catches his breath.

At some point, either for the attraction this building had once been or by a wandering artist looking for a safe place to spray his craft, someone had mapped out a detailed illustration of the cosmos. It sprawled across the entire spanse of the ceiling, disappearing into shadow and glittering where someone has stuck bits of gold and silver foil to the center points of stars. They winked and shone in the candlelight, like tiny rapid heartbeats.

"You wanna say that again but with sincerity this time?" John teases softly. Gale can hear the grin on his voice.

Gale looks down to find him pulling out a bottle of lukewarm wine he'd swiped last week without explaining to Gale why, a couple packets of lunchables and dunkaroos and two cheap McDonalds prize glasses.

"Is this a goddamn date?"

John grins at him again, popping the cork on the ten dollar bottle, "Surprise Buck."

yeah he do

[watermelonlovershigh]

Valentines Day Surprise (SMUT)

AN: this is an AU world so keep that in mind when reading this. also sorry this is a few days late from actual valentines. it took so long to write and i work alot so it took a while to complete. hope you don't mind. enjoyyyyy!!!

This story contains: tons of fluff, fingering in a bathtub, soft sex in bed, then more fluff

{ dadrry - husband!harry - softrry - three kids }

word count- 2,796

After a long shift at the hospital, you come home thinking you were going to get into the shower and be off to sleep, but your husband Harry has a surprise for you beings its Valentines Day.

Harry is a stay-at-home dad while you work at your local hospital. Some people look at your family dynamic and dislike the way you do things, but for you and Harry it works out great. Harry loves to stay home each day and take care of the kids and you usually love your job as a nurse at the hospital. Key word, usually.

Like today for instance. Today is Valentine's Day and you knew you had to unfortunately work but until eleven at night, that's what you didn't know. Around five in the afternoon you called Harry and told him you'd be getting home late tonight and he was so understanding. He knows that your hours at the hospital can change quickly due to short staffing problems.

When you finally got off work and settled in your car, the only thing on your mind was a hot shower and getting into bed with your husband for sleep. You were exhausted from working a twelve hour shift. Your feet hurt and your back ached. You wish instead of working today you had got to spend a romantic night with Harry because it's Valentines Day, but maybe next year you'll get the holiday off.

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

After what felt like forever, you eventually make it to your house. You expect to walk into a dark house because everyone should be sleeping, with maybe a covered plate of food on the counter from the dinner Harry cooked for him and the kids earlier, but as you step in the front door you realize you have a surprise waiting on you.

You look over to the left where the kitchen is at and see your little breakfast nook decorated with a red table cloth, a candle in the center of the table, two glasses of wine, and two plates of hot food. You're confused at first but then see your husband round the corner with a happy smile on his face. "Hello m'love," Harry walks over for a hug to greet you, "you're finally home. Made you dinner."

Retracting from the hug, you mutter confusedly, "Har.... Harry what is all this? It's almost midnight. Thought you'd be asleep."

"Baby, it's Valentine's Day. You didn't think I wouldn't treat m'wife on such occasions did you?" Harry coos back with love clearly in his demeanor. And wow do you love him back. He's probably so tired from chasing your three to eight year olds around the house all day. Not to mention the cleaning he had to do around the house and the cooking, baths, and bedtimes. But Harry still choose to stay up until you got home from work to make the last hour of Valentine's Day special for you.

Harry leads you over to the table set up and pulls your chair out for you. "Babe, let me change first. I stink of hospital." you argue but he isn't having any of that.

"Nonsense, you can change and bath after we eat. You smell and look fine." he replies and you decide not to push the argument further. Though you are exhausted and want out of your dirty scrubs asap, you're very much appreciative of this little dinner set up that he worked so hard on.

The next twenty minutes or so is filled with eating the lovely meal Harry prepared for you, laughter, and small touches of affection. As well as Harry gushing about the promise of making every Valentines special for you for the rest of your lives. And once you were finished, Harry blew out the candle that sat on the table and placed your plates in the dishwasher for the night. You were about to head up the stairs to begin getting ready for bed when Harry stopped you.

"Wait a minute," he quietly calls out, "I've got you another surprise. Follow after me." Amazed at all the dedication Harry put into tonight, you follow after him up the stairs and into your bedroom. The bedroom looks pretty much how it always does except very clean with the bed covers neatly folded back. You're about to question where the next surprise was when he leads you into the ensuite bathroom located inside your bedroom.

When you enter, you see something that nearly brings tears to your eyes. "Harry," you whisper aloud, "you didn't have to do all this. Wow, oh my God!" You look around the bathroom that's dimly light and see a bathtub filled with warm water and bubbles.

Harry steps forward and wraps his arms around your body from behind. Then while laying his head on your shoulder and placing a kiss to the side of your neck, he responds, "Course I did. Love you lots and wanted to treat you after your long day at work. Plus, once again, it's Valentine's Day. Gotta take care of m'wife on such days."

Before the water gets any cooler, Harry graciously begins to help you strip from your hospital scrubs before removing his own clothes as well. Once you're both naked, he leads you over to the tub and gets in first so that he can help you settle in front of him. You lean against his tattooed body and sigh out in relief at how relaxing this feels on your sore muscles.

To add to your relaxation, Harry reaches up and starts to massage your neck and shoulders. You almost let a moan slip out from how great his touch feels. You start collecting your hair in your hands and twist it into a bun on the top of you head, securing it with a hair tie you had on your wrist. "This is nice." you tell your caring husband behind you.

He leans in to peck a gentle kiss behind your ear and whispers, "Hmm, glad you like my Valentines surprise." His low speaking sends chills down your spine. Right after your little shiver, you begin feeling Harry's hands migrate down from your shoulders and to your chest. He first gages your reaction and when he sees no resistance on your face, Harry takes his pink nailed fingers and ghosts them over your sensitive nipples.

"Fuck!" you quietly moan out, not wanting your kids to awake. You toss your head back onto your husbands shoulder and allow him to roam your body as he pleases. As Harry stimulates your nipples under the water, he realizes you're clenching your thighs together and he can't be having you do all that. So while one hand stays on your breast, his other hand slides down your belly eventually makes it down to your thigh.

He gives your thigh a gentle tap and you know he's silently instructing you to open your legs. So you lift your legs up so your feet are pressed flat to the tub floor and spread your legs open for him. With now having enough room, Harry drops his hand to between your legs and the real pleasure begins.

His soft ringless fingers roam your prickly pussy, from having trimmed your pubic hair about a week ago, and you gasp when you feel him prode your hole. Harry swirls the tip of his index finger at your entrance and moans himself when he feels how slick you are, even under the water. "You're so fuckin' wet, love. All because of me?"

You nod your head against Harry's shoulder blade and cry out when his slick fingers are brought up to toy with your swelling clit. He starts to rub your clit from under the sudsy bath water and you nearly melt straight through his body with how good you feel. You rarely get time to yourselves anymore. With you working long hours and having kids that need attention, you're usually limited to quickies and sleepy fucks late at night or early in the mornings from under the covers.

Though you aren't complaining about how you usually have sex or get sexual with one another, Harry taking his time with you right now is fantastic. He edges you when he stops the simulation to your clit but soon is sliding his middle finger inside your hole. His fingers are thick and long and feel great inside your tight pussy. "Ah, oh fuck." you moan.

When his finger is fully inside, Harry turns it around and curls it up before asking, "Yeah, am I makin' you feel good? Treatin' your pussy right on Valentines Day."

Through heavy breaths and closed eyes, you mutter, "Yes, so good." Harry decides one isn't enough and pushes his ring finger inside you too. The stretch is even more then before and when his fingers start fucking in and out of you a bit faster, your body starts to tremble and shake. Then right when you feel on the cusp of your orgasm, you start grinding your clit into the palm of Harry's hand and that's what pushes you over the edge.

He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers and to hold you as still as possible, he loops his other hand right under your boobs to keep you secure against his body. Harry fingers you through your orgasm until you jump away from his touch because you're overly sensitive. He slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy and coos words of endearment in your ear to help bring you back to earth.

After a few minutes, you notice the hard lump pressed into your lower back and realize Harry is painfully hard right now. You turn your body around slightly in the water and say, "Want me to ride you? Help with your, you know, hard problem."

Harry giggles and answers, "Not in here, baby. Let's get you washed up and if you're still in the mood we can shag in bed where it's more comfy, m'kay." You nod an okay and the actual bath begins.

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

After Harry helped wash your hair and body, he got you both out the tub and dried off. Then once you brushed your teeth, the two of you finally crawled into the nicely made bed and the love making begins. If you both weren't so tired and had the house to yourselves you would have made the sex more special with some toys and loud, passionate moans. But just some simple missionary will do for tonight.

Once under the covers, Harry rolls on top of you and questions, "Are you still wet enough or do we need lube?"

With a sleepy smile, you retort, "Why don't you find out." And that Harry does. He dips his hand between your naked bodies and feels around your sensitive pussy, coming to the conclusion you are in fact still wet from the fingering that took place in the bathtub.

"Shit, love that you're still wet f'me. Pussy's begging for m'cock, huh?" Harry whispers and starts to position his tip at your entrance. No matter how many times you've had sex, you still can't get over how it feels when he first slides in.

"Ugh, mhm!" you whine while nodding your head and grasping at his back. After he's filled you up all the way, Harry settles his body flushed to yours to feel closer to you. Plus his muscles aren't that strong this late in the night. "Move, baby. You can move." you encourage and he listens.

Harry pulls his hips back with his knees bent and pressing into the mattress, then slowly pushes them forward again, meeting your hips as they collide. With his arms around your head, he lifts his head up so its hovering over your face. He looks down and admires your beautiful blissed out face. Harry leans down and presses his lips to yours. You catch on quickly and join in on the kiss.

The kiss is very heated the longer it continues and it's mostly filled with panting breaths. Your bodies are getting sticky from sweat and it's making it harder to rock your bodies together as smoothly as you started out but it still feels great. Eventually fatigue begins setting in Harry's muscles and he's dying for you to come so he can come. So he pulls his mouth away from yours and questions, "Are you close, love? Need you to come."

Trying to keep your moans as quiet as possible, you look up at his straining face and answer, "Ye...yeah. S...so close." Knowing what will pull the trigger on your orgasm, Harry slides his hand down between your bodies and starts to rub over your sensitive clit for you. You immediately start clenching around his cock.

As your hands claw at his muscular back, you heave, "Oh God, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming." Harry focuses on his thrusting to make sure he's hitting just the right spot for you and his fingers continue to stimulate your clitoris. Your orgasm washes over you so deeply that you swear you black out for a few seconds.

Your mind has gone blank and all you can feel is Harry's touch and your muscles intensely contracting with your release. But eventually it starts to fade and you can feel Harry coming inside of you. His face drops to your shoulder blade and he lets out deep grunts while trembling over your body. You rub up and down his back to sooth him. Then the room becomes silent besides the sounds of heavy breathing.

Neither one of you want to move a muscle from the activities that just took place but you want to get some sleep and know you can't risk getting a UTI. You tap on Harry's shoulder and ask quietly, "Can you carry me to the toilet? Need to pee your cum out."

Harry sits up, remaining inside you still, and coos, "But what if I wanted to stay in you all night? Keep my cock and cum nice and warm in there."

"You know we can't. I don't want an infection. Now hurry before I wet your dick and the bed with my piss." You know Harry was just joking about staying inside you all night because he takes aftercare very seriously. Reluctantly, he slowly pulls out of your tight hole and shuffles off the bed. He then reaches over to lift your body up and carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

Harry sets you on the toilet and walks out of the bathroom to allow you some privacy. He goes over to your dresser and grabs him and yourself fresh underwear and you an old t-shirt to sleep in. Before he can return to you, he sees you wobbling out the bathroom door very naked still and rushes over towards you. "Baby, I would have carried you back to the bed. Don't want you fallin' over with how shaky your legs are." Fuck, how did you get so lucky with the perfect husband.

"I know and thank you. You're too sweet to me." you reply and sit down in the edge of the bed. Harry comes up to you and helps dress you in the clean panties and shirt. He hasn't put his underwear on yet so his soft penis is right in front of you and you smile.

"What?" Harry asks with a sleepy smile plastered on his face. "What's got you all smiley?"

Looking up, you explain with a tired drawl in your voice, "Just, just remembering back to when we first started dating and you were so embarrassed the first time I caught glimpse of your dick soft. Said something like it looks all small (though not small even when soft) and wrinkly when it's not hard. And now you don't give a fuck. Letting it swing around limply between your legs."

Harry lets out a quiet laugh before speaking, "Yeah, well we are married now. Been married for years. And we have kids together. Not much I am embarrassed for you to see. You've seen me cry, you've seen me be violently sick, and you've seen my entire body inside and out."

While Harry finally pulls up his own briefs, you mutter as you turn to get into bed straight, "It's called unconditional love, babe. You know I'd never judge you and that I love you no matter what. Love all of you, even your soft wrinkly dick."

Harry moves around the bed after he's dressed and turns off the lamp before sliding under the duvet with you. Instead of waiting for you to come to him, he shuffles over to your body and rests his head on your chest. You love when Harry gets like this. All soft and cuddly. He lets out a yawn before whispering, "Love you unconditionally, too. You're my forever Valentine."

Right before drifting off to sleep, you whisper back, "And you're my forever Valentines, too."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @japanchrry // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Silence

Summary: Javier is back home in Texas after Colombia and just needs a way to silence the thoughts in his brain. And what better way than to visit a shady bar with a glory hole....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: Glory holes, Smut (Oral; M receiving), anonymous sex, flirting, Javi thinking about Colombia

A/N: literally wrote this in like an hour after having the idea. This might suck (ha! Pun intended)

if you want to get notified for new fic updated follow me @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics

Being back home was harder for Javier than he thought. 

His body may be in Texas, but his mind was still back in Colombia. Fighting the war against drugs. Escobar might be dead, but his legacy still lived. 

He stared at the package of cigarettes he had bought, his car still in the parking lot of the store. It had been a hot day, the sun finally disappearing, the sky darkening, the temperature sinking.

He hadn’t smoked in almost twelve weeks. 

He was… doing good. Or so he thought. 

He just needed a moment of quiet. For the thoughts in his brain to be silent and not remind him how much of a failure he was. 

Back in Colombia he’d go to the brothel for that. Fuck he couldn’t even remember the last time something else than his own hand had made him cum. 

Sure, he could fuck around in Laredo, but it was a small town. Part of the people still hated him for what he did to Lorraine what felt like a lifetime ago, the other part of the people calling him a hero because he brought down Escobar. 

But he didn’t. 

He wasn’t even there. He might have helped, but in the end and when it mattered he was already on his way back to Texas. 

He rubbed his fingers over his temple, his head leaning back against his seat as he took a deep breath. 

He was pushing forty and had no idea what to do with the rest of his life. 

Javier let his eyes wander through the dimly lit neighborhood, his eyes finding the red neon sign of a bar, whose name seemed familiar. 

He searched his brain until he remembered where he knew it from. 

Prostitution might be illegal, but there still were some loopholes. Like bathrooms with holes in the wall. 

He sighed, his cock twitching at the thought. 

Before he could question his intention he had left his truck and walked towards the bar. 

The package of cigarettes unopened on the passenger's seat. 

He nursed his glass of whiskey at the bar counter, watching the dimly lit room and the crowd of people. Some might call it shady, but Javier felt just like he belonged here. People came here to disappear and forget, and that was just what he wanted right now.

Rubbing his fingers over his mustache he eyed the door that led to the restrooms. 

There was another door next to it, a woman sitting in front of it. 

He emptied his glass before he got up and slowly walked over. 

The woman looked up, raising her left eyebrow as she let her eyes wander from head to toe, a smirk playing in the corner of her lips. 

Javier felt a wave of confidence at her checking him out. She was pretty too. Bright eyes and deep red lipstick covering her full lips. Younger than he expected, not that he did know what to expect. 

Honestly, he didn’t know how exactly this worked, so he was just winging it.

He stopped in front of her, sucking his bottom lip in. 

“What can I do for you, Cowboy?” she asked and he chuckled. Hooking his thumb through one of his belt loops he tilted his head. He saw her gaze linger on his crotch, before she looked up again. 

He just nodded towards the door and her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Booth three, left door,” she only said, before opening the door for him. 

He stopped halfway through the door, turning his head over his shoulder, a question lingering on his mind.

“Is there a woman or man in booth three?” he asked and her lips twitched into a smirk. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she winked with an amused smile and he chuckled, shaking his head to himself before he walked in. 

There were six doors. Three Booths. 

He could hear faint moaning as he made his way to door three which was at the back of the small hallway. Left door she had said. Feeling his cock harden he turned the doorknob, walking inside the small room. There was a chair in the left corner, and a box of tissues on the floor. It was a little filthy, but what did he expect?

In the middle of the wall to his right were three holes. One obvious hole in the height of his crotch, the other two holes higher and bigger. 

For his hands probably. 

His fingers twitched. 

He heard a door open and only now did he realize that he was stalling. There was only one reason why he was here. Taking a deep breath he unbuckled his belt, opening the single button, rolling down the zipper of his jeans. 

With a low groan he took hold of his cock, pulling it out. It was already half hard. 

The idea of cumming in someone's mouth making him twitch in anticipation. 

As awkward as this situation was, it also felt right as he took a step towards the hole in the wall, sucking his bottom lip in as he slipped his by now almost fully hard cock through the hole in the wall. 

Nothing happened for a long moment until he felt a featherlight touch. He thought it were fingers first but the next moment something wet and warm enveloped the tip of his cock and he released a long satisfied groan. 

His hands came to rest flat on the wall as he tried to get closer to the mouth the tip of his cock was currently in when the person on the other side of the wall slowly began to take him deeper inside. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, letting his forehead rest against the wall. Sweat was already starting to run down his neck as his cock was sucked. Unintentionally he started to thrust, moaning when he felt his tip hit the back of their throat while they moaned around him. 

It seemed like they liked at and he imagined being able to really fuck their face. Making them gag on his cock while tears sprung into their eyes. 

He’d be cuming in seconds at this point. 

“Shit…” he moaned, his hand bumping against the wall as he felt his balls tighten. 

“Fuck I’m gonna… Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he said, hopefully loud enough for the person on the other side to hear before his cock twitched and the first rope of cum shot into their mouth. Javier heard a long moan, he wasn’t sure if it was him or the person on the other side, a hand wrapping around his cock, jerking him off while his tip remained in their warm mouth, filling it with his spend until he released a long groan as he finished. 

Part of him wanted to know if the person on the other side would swallow it all down. 

And for one blissful moment there was only silence in his head. 

The lips disappeared and he lingered a moment, before he took a hesitant step back, his cock leaving the hole. 

Was he supposed to… thank the person? Was there some kind of protocol?

Before he could think more about it he heard footsteps on the other side and a door opening and falling close again. 

Narrowing his eyes he risked a glance through one of the holes into the other room, finding it empty. 

He huffed to himself, so much for that. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he tucked his cock inside his jeans and made sure he was fully dressed before he opened the door and stepped out. 

When he opened the door to get back into the bar, the woman from before was leaning at the wall next to the door. 

He lipstick was smudged and she gave him a teasing smile, before her thumb brushed over the corner of her mouth, brushing away something that looked like… oh

“Did you enjoy booth three?” she asked, bringing her thumb between her lips, licking it clean. 

He felt a rush he hadn’t felt in a while, as his lips twitched into a smirk, his head nodding. 

“Very much so,” he said, stepping closer towards her. 

“I’d like to…. give my proper thanks and return the favor,” he said and she grinned slowly. 

“That would be very much appreciated,” she said. 

They were standing so close now, that her breasts brushed against his chest. 

“Your place or mine?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“Mine,” she said softly.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Veil of Shadows : Prologue

Word Count : 2.1k

Warnings : swearing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, drinking, weed, edibles, food, brief mention of sex

A/N : So it begins. A little slow, but it'll pick up, I promise! Hope you enjoy!

⚠️Minors do not interact⚠️

            Looking around, all anyone could see was carnage. Blood pooled on the floor, corpses of people who were once best friends, lovers. A group much like a family. One person stood amongst it all, tears pooling in their eyes, wondering how it could all end like this. The sun rising on what was meant to be the second day of their vacation, sirens getting closer. All the plans made left with the deaths of those loved ones. Where did it all go wrong?

            Everyone was excited. Since the start of university, the group of friends started a tradition. It started with twelve of them, Jia and Yuri not yet a part of the group. Yuri had come along the next year, and it was just the thirteen of them the year after that as well. Jia and Yeosang had only recently began dating when she offered her vacation house for the groups vacation tradition. How could they turn it down?

            Jia and Yeosang decided to drive there in a car by themselves, the other couples split into three cars trailing behind them. Mae, Wooyoung, San, and Des were in the car directly behind them, with Yunho, Mingi, Jongho, and Yuri following them. Hongjoong, Y/n, Seonghwa, and Kayla brought up the rear, making sure no one got lost or split off from the group.

            Y/n, Des, Mingi, and Yeosang were on call periodically throughout the drive, mostly for pitstop purposes, sometimes for exchanging snacks. It took a few hours for them to get to the house, but Jia promised it would be worth it.

            And when they pulled up, everyone gawking at the size of the place as they got out of the cars, they knew she wasn’t lying. “I asked my parents to make sure everything would be set up by the time we arrived. So no one should bother us the entire weekend.” Jia explained as they started walking up to the house, mansion might be a more fitting word, they would be staying in.

            By set up she meant everything being cleaned, the rooms being made up, and the fridge being stocked. And set up they did. It was ready for them to party the entire weekend and forget about all their problems, forget about looming exams, homework, and projects that were far from finished. For one weekend, they were just a group of friends with no responsibilities.

            “Fuck this place is huge.” Wooyoung said as he looked around. It was like a mansion out of a catalogue. High ceilings, chandeliers, winding staircase, a pool and hot tub in the backyard. It had everything you could want for a vacation.

            “Should we put our stuff away and get this vacation started?” Y/n spoke up with hopefulness in her voice. Her, Mae, Kayla, and Des were always the most excited to get started with the vacation. Ready to get so high they forget where they are.

            “Of course, my darling.” Hongjoong replied, wrapping his arms around her from behind and giving her cheek a quick kiss. Before she could protest, he grabbed her bag and ran upstairs.

            “Hey! I’m an independent woman!” She called after him as she chased him up the stairs.

            “Well I hated that.” Wooyoung joked. Mae glared at him, then looked down at her bag, and glared at him again. “Oh bunny, let me, your big, strong boyfriend, take that for you.” He said as he grabbed their bags. “After you.”

            “Good boy.”

            “Are there any normal couples in this group?” Jia asked Yeosang, but the others who had yet to head upstairs heard her. They all exchanged looks with each other, all knowing what they had to do.

            “Come here princess.” Yunho said to his husband. He was already holding their bags, he was asking Mingi to jump in his arms so he could carry him up the stairs like he did on their wedding day.

            “Always the romantic!” Mingi exclaimed before jumping into Yunho’s arms. And Yunho whisked him up the stairs.

            “Think we’ll be like that when we get married?” Seonghwa asked Kayla with a lovesick smile. Kayla looked at Seonghwa and then at the stairs, pretending to think for a moment, before nodding.

            “In our own way.” She added. He agreed, grabbing their bags, and gesturing for her to link her arm through his. He gave her a quick kiss before the two walked up the stairs, never breaking eye contact.

            “You’re not going to expect us to be like that, right?” Jia asked. Yeosang looked at the two other couples still downstairs, his eyes meeting those of the person he woke up next to early this morning, before they left him alone in his bed.

            “I can carry my own bag.” Des said as San tried to take it out of her grasp. He was pouting at her, but she wasn’t relenting, despite her thinking he was really cute when he pouted at her like this. “Fine, you can carry my bag. But only if I can carry yours.”

            “That defeats the whole purpose!” Des giggled, shrugging her shoulders. But he agreed, the couple swapping bags, and holding hands as they made their way upstairs.

            “Shall we?” Jongho asked, holding out his hand for Yuri to take. The couple decided on sharing a bag since it was only a weekend trip, and Jongho already had it in his other hand. Yuri thought for a second before going to his other side and grabbing the handle alongside Jongho.

            “Let’s carry it together.” Jongho smiled, glancing back at Yeosang one last time, before him and Yuri headed up the winding staircase.

            “God I can’t wait to get drunk.” Jia said exasperated, grabbing her bag and heading up the stairs, Yeosang following behind.

            Each of the rooms had a sign with names on them, which is how everyone found their rooms. Yeosang thought that was smart, but he never would have thought of that. Not that he would ever have the money for a place with more than one spare room. “The rooms are nice.” He commented when he and Jia got into their room.

            “I made sure we got the nicest room of course.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Nice, big bed. Soundproof walls.” He wrapped his arms around her waist as she brought him in for a kiss. “Your friends can enjoy the luxuries this house has to offer, and we can stay in here.” She says, kissing him again. But before it can get too heated, the door bursts open.

            “We’re going to be making some drinks, rolling some joints, and heading for the pool if you two want to join.” Y/n stood there in her swimsuit, a towel draped across her shoulders. She was always the one trying to include Jia in group activities, even when the others told her not to bother. Yeosang knows no one likes his girlfriend, but he’s glad that they’re always trying. If only his girlfriend could give them the same courtesy.  

            “We’ll change and be right down.” Yeosang replied, and Jia sighed, reminding herself to not date someone with a big friend group once this was over. The group are always hanging out together when they have free time. So why did they want to spend even more time together during a vacation?

            Ever since she started dating Yeosang, Jia has been confused how they don’t get sick of each other. She’s never known anyone that she’d want to spend every single day with. Never known anyone she wouldn’t grow sick of eventually. So she watches them in confusion, wondering how they can still be so excited to see each other.

            By the time Jia and Yeosang made it to the backyard, now in their swimsuits, everyone else was spread out across the yard. Some in the pool, some in the hot tub, some just standing around talking. But everyone had a drink of some sort in their hands, a couple groups were passing around some joints, and Y/n seemed to be passing out edibles among her little group.

            “You wanted a drink, right?” Yeosang asked Jia, pointing towards Wooyoung, who usually played the groups mixologist. He was making drinks for Hongjoong and Seonghwa when Yeosang and Jia approached. “He makes really good drinks.” Yeosang’s smile is met with an eye roll, and the three guys standing there all had to bite their tongues as to not say anything to Jia in that moment.

            “Anything to get me drunk.” She told Wooyoung, cocking her head to the side expectantly. Out of all Yeosang’s friends, Wooyoung has been the only one vocal about his dislike of her.

            “Are you nicer when you’re drunk?” Wooyoung asks with a sarcastic smile. Hongjoong shot him a look that was basically telling him to shut the fuck up, before looking at Jia and Yeosang, telling them that Wooyoung was just kidding around. Everyone knew he wasn’t though, but they’ll play along.

~

            “Can you believe the nerve of that bitch saying what she did?” Kayla asked, mostly directed towards Des and Yuri. Y/n and Mae were intrigued, having already been upstairs when Jia started with her commentary about the group.

            “You can’t just say that and not tell us what was said!” Mae exclaimed. The boys that were in the pool, looked over at the group of girls sitting in the hot tub, very obviously gossiping, and immediately knew who they were gossiping about.

            Jia was a popular topic among their gossip sessions, ever since Yeosang introduced her to everyone when they started dating. It was obvious that they didn’t like Jia, and Jia thought she was better than them. She was oil to their glass of water, they would just never mix. But for Yeosang, they were willing to try.

            The other girls filled Mae and Y/n in on what they missed, and Des continued with what happened after Kayla had left. Yuri finished the story with what she heard as her and Jongho were going up the stairs.

            “That bitch is honestly just lucky that murder is illegal because I’m sure there are plenty of people that would gladly kill her.” Des grumbled, taking a sip of her drink, glaring in the direction Jia was.

            “I know twelve for certain. Jury’s still out on Yeosang.” Y/n added, watching as Yeosang brought Jia another drink, a smile on his face that was met with nothing. Not a smile, not even a thank you, but he didn’t seem phased.

            “How would you do it?” Mae asked, a sinister grin on her face as she took a drink. Des and Y/n turned back around to face Mae, before exchanging looks with the other girls. “I’m kidding! Oh my jeez guys. I’m not that crazy.”

            “Wouldn’t this weekend be the perfect time though?” Yuri piped up, shrugging her shoulders.

            “Perfect time for what?” San asked, causing the girls to jump, making him and the others in the pool with him laugh.

            “Talking about something illegal? Why so jumpy?” Yunho joked, but the girls just rolled their eyes.

            “Whatever.” Mae mumbled, reaching over the small wall between the pool and hot tub, and splashing the guys with some water. San splashed water back, which made Des splash more water towards the guys. And they ended up in some kind of splash fight, screaming and laughing while yelling insults at each other.

            “You seriously need normal friends.”

            “Or you just need to learn to have fun.” Mae countered from the hot tub before splashing Jia. “That felt good.” Mae said softly to her friends, which made everyone start to laugh. Even Yeosang found some humor in the situation, giggling himself, and trying to lighten the mood by telling his girlfriend to just splash them back.

            “No fucking thanks.” She replied before storming back into the house.

            “Her loss. That was fun!” Mingi exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders, and leaving to get new drinks for everyone.

            “I should go check on her.” Yeosang said, his smile faltering for a quick second as he said goodbye to his friends, and heading back inside after his girlfriend.

            “I cannot wait until she’s gone.” Kayla said, rolling her eyes.

            “Dead or break up?” Yunho asked. The rest of the group, sans Jia and Yeosang, started to gather together, handing out drinks to everyone, and joining in the conversation.

            “At this point, I don’t care.” Kayla replied, while the rest of the group pretended to think on the question, before letting out a chorus of dead. And they all exchanged looks.

            “I’ll drink to that!” Hongjoong exclaimed, holding his drink up, and everyone else followed suit. “She won’t ruin our vacation. We’re all still together, and that’s all that matters.”   

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@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @hgema @itswaffleberry

[fizzing-imagines]

My mom's Billy | Billy Hargrove x Single Mom! Military! Reader

Notes: This is the ending Billy DESERVED, with some good therapy, a nice home and a family that loves him

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Words: 4.1k

This was your first time in group therapy. It was highly recommend by your therapist to you, after having trouble connection to others. Her idea was that meeting people with similar experience to yours would help you. Two friendly-looking therapists happily greeted the group of eight, then introduced you. "We have a new face joining us today." Everyone looked at you, you could feel your face heating up. "Oh, uhm...Hi, I'm (Y/N). Uhm...my ex-husband abused me throughout our twelve year relationship. And uhm...I used to be a lieutenant in the navy, but I quit when my son Leo was born so I've been a housewife for five years. I work as a waitress now though." The female therapist of the two gave you an encouragement smile. "I, uhm, I left him a year ago. The divorce was actually finalised last week, so...now I'm here." You let out an awkward laugh, but the group also gave you an encouraging smile. A man with ocean blue eyes and curly, blonde hair stood out to you as he looked you up and down. His face was wrinkled, even though he didn't look too old to you yet. There was a stubbly beard on his face, a bit darker than his hair, and while his lips were full they were also chewed up. What stood out most were the hickeys on his neck.

"Thank you for sharing.", one of the participants told you. With a smile, you gave her a nod. "Have you thought about going back to the navy?", another participant asked you. Wow, these people were open. "I have, but I don't have a partner and my mother is too old to constantly take care of my son when I'm on deployment so that's off the table." It disappointed you, really. You loved your career and regretted letting your ex take that joy from you. "And daycare has gotten so expensive.", a man in the group said. "I have two young children, we have them in daycare." He continued talking about barely being able to afford having his kids looked after at a daycare, so the focus was finally off of you. But the meeting itself was nice, the participants were kind and understanding. Even though the man who checked you out in the beginner barely talked, until he was asked towards the end of the meeting. "Billy, you haven't shared today.", the male therapist said. "Anything you wanna say?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Not really, nothing interesting happened. Had a date, but she wasn't my 'forever person'" He put the last to words into air quotes. "Nothing else interesting happened, really." For some reason, he intrigued you. "Well, besides that this is your last session today.", the male therapist added. "Oh yeah, that too. My therapist said I've gotten a well-enough social circle to not attend anymore and I could really use the hour for more shifts at my job." Everyone said goodbye to Billy.

After group, you left the centre to get to your car. As you unlocked your door, you saw Billy walking over to your car. "Hey, (Y/N), wasn't it?" You nodded your head. "Well, since I'm not in group anymore I was hoping I could give you my phone number." Your cheeks suddenly felt hot - you haven't been asked out since you met your husband. It hasn't been a concept that was a possibility for you. "Listen, I think I get that it might be hard for you, so you don't have to give me your number." He took out a piece of paper and wrote something down. "But give me a call if you feel like going out on a date. I'd be happy to hear from you, you can reach me at any time of the day." You took the piece of paper from his hand and let out a quiet "Thank you." before he left to get into his own car. You yourself sat in your car for a good five minutes to process what just happened. Someone asked you out on a date? You really couldn't believe it. Eventually, you started your engine and drove to your mothers house to pick up your son.

After you got him into bed you sat in the living room and kept starring at the tiny piece of paper with Billy's number on it. You told your mother about it, and she encountered you to call him, but your brain had a blockage. But will it ever go away if you don't break it? The clock told you that it was already midnight, you questioned how you could sit there for hours with your own thoughts discouraging you. Slowly, you took your flipphone out of your pocket and dialed the number. After a few rings, you were greeted by a sleepy "Hello?" His voice was raspy, and you immediately felt bad for disruption his sleep. "It's...it's (Y/N)." The two of you talked on the phone for a good while, talking through details of what he wants to do where with you. Billy had good ideas, but you insisted on public places only. He was very understanding and suggested a nice restaurant downtown. When you said that you couldn't afford that, he said "Don't worry about money, I'll invite you for the evening." It made you blush a bit - you can't remember the last time you've been invited to dinner.

You two had a good date. Your mother looked after your son and let him have a sleepover at her place, meanwhile Billy picked you up from your house. He brought you flowers and showered you in compliments before even letting you step into his car. It made your stomachs flip up- and down, especially because you sort of accepted the fact that you'd never find love again. While it didn't have to mean that Billy has to be the one, it was nice to be wooed again. Dinner went just as well, you had nice conversations, went on a walk afterwards and he dropped you off at your apartment afterwards. "I'd like to see you again.", he said to you with a smile while standing in front of your entrance. It made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks heat up. "I'm free next Thursday, maybe we can get breakfast together?", you said while smiling at him. He took his hand in yours, said "I'll pick you up at 8:30." and kissed the back of your hand. You said your goodbyes and went inside your apartment. Once you laid in bed and thought about the evening, you couldn't help but grin until you fell asleep.

You looked forward to breakfast with Billy for days, and it went just as well as the first date. Billy took you out at least two times a week for the next month. What you loved most about it was that he never pressured you into any physical contact - the most he ever did was give you a kiss on the cheek. Everyone around you noticed how much happier you've gotten. It also rubbed off on your son, who turned from extremely shy and introverted to an extroverted ball of energy. Right now, you were at Billy's house, having a few snacks and talking about life.

"Billy, can I ask you something?", you said as you leaned your head against the backrest of his couch. "Anything.", he said with a smile. "You really don't need to answer if you don't want to, but since you know why I was in group...why were you?" You've had your suspicions after being at his place a few times. There were no family pictures anywhere, except one of him and his stepsister, and a few childhood pictures of him and his mother. "Was about time for that question, huh?" He let out an awkward chuckle while thinking of an answer. "My dad, actually. He, uhm, he first abused my mother and eventually me. And when my mother left, I became too much like him. I was a bully, and was a dick to my step-sister. But I eventually got out, moved back here and got help. So my sister forgave me at least, but she still lives in Indiana." You knew that he lived there for a while, until he had an accidentally and came back to California. "Billy, I'm so sorry..." you said while reaching out for his hand. He took his hand in yours and squeezed it once. "I'm okay now, (Y/N)." Even though he just told you what happened to you in his past, he still smiled at you. "He's miserable now, we put him in a nursing home in some shithole town." His thumb started stroking over the back of your hand as his eyes looked into yours. "Uhm, I actually had a question...about your ex and your son.", he said while looking down. Something told you that that question was uncomfortable to him. "Sure, what's up?", you asked. "Well, I know what your ex did to you but...what did your son experience?" Knowing what Billy went through with his dad, this was probably for his own piece of mind as well. "It honestly started when he was born. He screamed at him as a baby to shut up when he cried, then he started pushing him when he was running through the house. But once he punched him, I packed our things and ran away with Leo. Pressed charges the same day and haven't looked back." Now Billy was the one to squeeze your hand. "You did the right thing (Y/N), I'm proud of you." You smiled and scooted closer to him, letting your knee touch his. Somehow, both of you knew what the other thought about - he pulled you into a hug and held you tight to his body, while you wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, take in his scent; you felt like you were home. Billy was the one for you, you knew that.

On the next date, you two kissed for the first time. The one after that, he asked to be your boyfriend. Of course you said yes, how could you not? But now there was a problem: You'd have to eventually tell Leo. While you did tell him that you've made a new friend and meet up with him a lot, you never told him that you're dating again. That was your mistake, because now you'd have to tell him. The biggest problem? Leo was afraid of men. He couldn't be near male teachers or any of his uncles, even male cashiers got a massive side eye from him. So his mom now having a new boyfriend, after his biology father abused him for his entire life? It didn't seem possible to you. But you did have to tell him eventually, so you sat him down on a Saturday after you two got ice cream.

"Leo, do you remembered my friend Billy that I have been seeing a lot lately?", you started the conversations with. Leo nodded his head, then took a lick of his ice cream. "Is he coming over?", he asked then. "Well, maybe. I actually have to tell you something else about Billy." Your heart started racing, and you honestly didn't even know where you were going with this. "You know when we talked about how daddies and mommies love each other?" He nodded his head once more. "Well, when daddies and mommies separate, it can happen that they meet someone else who made them as happy as the other mommy or daddy made them. But when the other mommy or daddy wasn't a good person-" You were interrupted by your own son. "Like Dean?" Leo never called your ex dad, he always called him Dean. "Yes, like Dean. Well, then the mommy or daddy might meet someone who makes them even happier." Your son continued eating his ice cream quietly. "And Billy is that other person who makes me even happier, and that's what I wanted to tell you, Leo." He remained quiet for a bit, trapped in his own thoughts, before he talked again. "So is Billy your boyfriend now?" He didn't scrunch his face in disgust or anger, which was a good sign. "Yes, sweetheart, Billy is my boyfriend now and I wanted to tell you so you could get ready to meet him someday." Once again, he thought about your words for a while. "Does Billy hit you like Dean did?" Unfortunately, Leo knew too much about abuse too soon. "No, Leo, Billy has never hit me or insult me. Do you remembered when we talked about how Mommies and Daddies should treat each other?" He took a big lick of his ice cream before answering. "That they always cuddle and kiss and hug each other, and that they never hit or scream at each other." You nodded in agreement. "That's right. And that is how Billy treats me." For the third time, he was inside his head and thinking something over. "My friend Lee, his dad has a new girlfriend and he says that she's his step-mother now. Is Billy my step-dad?" Oh, you were not prepared for that question at all. You actually expected a tantrum. "You can call him that if you want to. But you can also just call him Billy." Leo went on to ask when he was going to meet Billy, if he could cook for him with you, if Billy liked basketball as much as he does.

So the day came. On the following Thursday, you and Leo were making two different pizzas for the three of you. He insisted on making a funny face out of salamies on one pizza while you added mushrooms, olives and spinach to the other one. Once you put the food in the oven, your doorbell rang. "He's here!", Leo said while running up to the front door. "Mama, can I open it?", he asked you. As you were washing your hands it wasn't such a bad idea. "Sure sweetheart, be nice!", you said over to him. Your son opened the door and greeted your boyfriend with a wide grin. "Hello, are you my mom's Billy?", he asked. His question made you chuckle. "I am your mom's Billy. Are you your mom's Leo?" He loudly said yes before leading him inside and telling Billy to take his shoes and jacket off. "Mom's in the kitchen.", he said to Billy. "Leo, go wash your hands and change your shirt. Dinner is done soon." You could hear your sons footsteps running off while Billy came through the kitchen door. "That was quite the greeting.", he said with a chuckle in his voice. "He's uncharacteristically excited to meet you.", you replied while drying your hands. The two of you shared a quick kiss before the timer for the pizza went off. "He even made you smiling pizza."

Leo's and Billy's first meeting went extraordinarily well. In the evening, after your boyfriend left, he asked you when he would come over again. And it didn't take long until he asked when Billy would move in with the two of you. Six months deep into the relationship, Leo and you moved in with Billy. He had two extra rooms and a big backyard that he couldn't use all by himself. Your son loved it, and he loved Billy. At some point, he started calling the two of you "My mama and my Billy", which made your boyfriends heart melt. Billy and you got married two years later, you took Billy's last name and tried looking into how Leo could get it too. Eventually, it all resolved itself.

Billy was looking after Leo while you were at work. He picked him up from school and was making him dinner while Leo was doing his homework. However, math wasn't his strongsuit so he walked to Billy with his textbook. "Dad, can you help me with this?" Billy stopped in his tracks as he heard Leo call him dad for the first time but swallowed it down to not make him feel uncomfortable. He helped him with his homework and didn't let anything show until he was alone in the kitchen and cried some tears; happy tears. He continued lunch with your, and now his, son like he always does. Once you came home, he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. "What's gotten into you?", you said with a giggle. "Leo called me dad today.", he mumbled into the crook of your neck. Your eyes went wide in suprise and happiness, then you laughed. "Seriously? Billy, that's amazing!" You passionately kissed him on the lips as he was still squeezing you against his body.

Later that night, you checked in on your son after he went to bed, just to see that he was still awake and seemed upset. "Leo? What's wrong sweetheart?" You walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. "I called Billy dad today and he didn't react...", he mumbled into his blanket. Oh. "Why does that upset you?", you asked him while petting his head. "Because I thought it would make him happy. And I never had a dad..." You opened your arms as an invitation for a hug, which he gladly took as he scooted closer. "Billy was very happy, but he didn't want you to feel weird about it.", you said to your as you hugged him. "He thought that you wouldn't want to do it anymore if he was too emotional." Leo hummed, a sound he started making when he thought about something, before asking "Can dad come in?" You smiled and told him that that was possible, then gave him a kiss goodnight and left the room. "Billy, your son wants to talk to you.", you said to your husband as you stepped into your shared bedroom. "Alright.", he said while getting up and leaving the room. You went into bed and waited for him to return, which was a good 20 minute wait. When Billy came back, he was quiet and quickly got under the blanket next to you with no words. "Sweetheart, you're awfully quiet.", you said to him while taking one of his hands in yours. "It's okay.", he mumbled while getting closer to you. "Our son just had some questions. But it's all good now." The way he said 'Our son' made your heart melt. "Father-son secret?" You smirked at your own words, Billy let out a small chuckle. "Definetly.", he replied before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Life went on for months. Billy was the father Leo never had, he was happier than ever. Billy finally had the family he always wanted. And you were planning on going back to the navy - that was until a tiny plastic stick with two blue lines came in the way. You've had your suspicions before, considering that this would be your second pregnancy. But how? Leo was nine already and so used to being an only child. Billy and you weren't going to get any younger either - at age 37 now, you'd almost be a senior citizen by the time your child graduates high school. So you did what you always do: Go to Billy.

"Bil.", you mumbled as you stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, test in your shaky hands. It was only natural to him to see how terrified you were, so close to crying but swallowing it down for the sake of your son in the next room. "Come here.", he said while walking up to you. It was only then that he noticed the positive pregnancy test in your hands. "You know, I always wanted two kids." was all he said before wrapping his arms around you. "We'll manage."

He stayed true to his words. You gave birth to baby Leia and went back to the navy months after. Leo was ecstatic to be a big brother, not wanting to ever leave Leias side at any time of the day since the moment he first saw her. He went so far that he volunteers to bring her to bed on some days, and for whatever reason she'd always fall asleep when he did without fuzzing. And Billy, oh god, Billy was so happy to watch his daughter grow up. Of course he saw Leo as his own son, but he couldn't watch him grow up from the day he was born. Knowing your and Leo's past, Billy made sure that he won't be anything like your ex or his dad. During your second trimester, he went back to his old therapist to see if he truly was ready to be a father. When Leia was a year old, you and your family were send to Finland for deployment. Once again, your husband stayed true to his words: "We'll manage.". Leo was send to an english-speaking school while Leia went to a regular, finnish daycare. If you were going to live here, you want her to learn a second language while doing so. Billy, somehow, got to continue working as a mechanic while you were obvious caught up with the finnish navy. Everything was beyond perfect and felt like a fairytale. The four of you were send back to America after six years in Finland, but to Florida this time. Leia cried a lot when she had to leave, including the entire flight back and the first night in America. You couldn't blame her - she's leaving the place she grew up in. You promised her to go back to Finland during summer break, and while that cheered her up it didn't help a lot. Once again, Billy stuck to his words. "We'll manage.". He did everything he could to get Leia out of her head, helped her with schoolwork, went surfing with her, took her on daddy-daughter dates. She got better eventually and found many friends. You, on the other hand, felt bad that this would eventually be ripped from her again.

Four years later, you decided on a desk job at the navy in California. It took a lot from you to make this decision, but it was the best one for your family. You couldn't watch your daughter sit and cry for her entire childhood. California was the best decision for everyone, including your husband. He was happier, Leo was happier, Leia adapted after a few months. She loved California eventually, especially because her Dad could show her around so much more now.

"Dad, I have a confession to make." Leo made sure you weren't home. He was two weeks away from graduating high school, and already signed up for his future profession. But he told neither you nor Billy. "What's going on kid?", he asked while looking up from the newspaper he was reading. At this point, he needed glasses to even make out a single letter. "Mom didn't want me to, but I signed up for the marines and got in." Billy knew about your opinion in this. You didn't want your children to get into the military at all. It wasn't a taboo theme at home, but it was barely on the table. After what your ex-husband did to you, you couldn't bear to possibly have them go down the same road as you. "Why did you want to join?", Billy asked. He'd form his opinion based on his reply, he decided. "Mom saves so many people. I've always looked up to her, and I wanna be like her." Billy smiled at his sons words. "You know, I'm convinced that she'll be okay with it if you tell her like that."

You were. Leo went to bootcamp, your old bootcamp, where you dropped him off with a heavy heart. Billy and Leia came with you as well to send him off. "Stay safe, son.", Billy told him before giving him a tight hug. Leo promised to not die, and that was enough for him. Leia cried a bit while saying her goodbyes, and had to hold onto her father after hugging her brother. You were last, it was only logical to him. "I'll make you proud.", he promised you. "Leo, I' already so proud of you.", you said to him with a smile. "You'll do just as well. Bootcamp will be the best months of your life, promise." In motherly fashion, you gave him a kiss on his cheek before letting him walk inside.

Back in the car, Billy tried changing the topic as the mood was low. "Well, if my son comes after his mother job-wise, I hope my daughter comes after me.", he said to you and Leia.

"I was actually thinking about Infantry.", she replied.

[pepperstories]

Maple Avenue | Francisco Morales (Teaser)

Warnings: ✨eventual dirty smut✨use of nickname "Cat", age gap- frankie is in his early 40's, female character is in her early 30's. female has long hair. no mentions of body type, but can be construed as being "curvy" with ample breasts and bum. talking of aging. main character is a nurse in a community assisted living. talks of neglect. frankie is doing community service for being a bad boy. talks of aging ailments (dementia, Parkinson's Disease, Do Not Resuscitate Orders ect). frankie being misogynist. other triple frontier boys make an appearance. talk of drug taking (cocaine, morphine, cardiac medication). tough decisions. end of life care.

a/n: this is extremely badly written as a one shot with the expectation of making it a series. all depends on how well this does. don't judge, currently written on an iPhone note during my working day. be nice.

sunmary: frankie has been given his sentence for smuggling cocaine. due to his military background, the judge rules in favour of 800 hours (20 weeks, 40 hour weeks, 4x 10 hour days/nights) community service at maple avenue assisted living. he didn't bargain on having to do the hardest shifts of his life. when he meets "Cat", palliative care nurse with an attitude, he would much rather take the 90 days in lock up.

_________

Hawaiian shirt or bold black and white checkers? He genuinely had no idea what to wear. Holding each hanger up to his chest, he narrowed his eyes trying to picture himself in each shirt. What will they say? What will they think? He doesn't want to look like a middle aged offender. He doesn't want to look like a "down and out"...but he guessed the sheet of paper with his wrap on it will make up their mind.

"Black and white looks criminal. Hawaiian looks too Magnum P.I. Just put a plain t-shirt on." Santi's voice was laced with exhausted. His disheveled hair sat in every direction, face creased with sleep and both hands clutching his coffee mug.

"I want to look casual but also...not like a criminal." Frankie mutters, more to himself than his comrade.

"Regardless, you'll be stinking of stale piss and apple sauce by the end of your shift." His friend. The one who would power scope any enemy from miles away to save his life. Forever providing words of wisdom.

"Thanks man, that's the encouragement I needed."

_________

"Atorvastatin 20mg for room 12, 18, 24. Make sure they take it with water, not apple juice. Blood sugars for room 2 and 4, sweep the room for candy, they ALWAYS have candy. Aerobics at 10, Puzzle hour at 12 and tonight is movie night." You rhymed off as you walked down the corridor of Maple Avenue. The night shift ending an hour ago, you provided the walking "handover" to your favourite colleague.

"You do realise how long I've worked here Cat? I just needed medication confirmation." Maggie rolled her eyes as she watched you rearrange the medicine cabinet the way YOU liked it.

"Your shift finished..." Maggie checks her watch, a slight squint in her eye as the florescent overhead light in the medicine room cast a glare over the glass of her brand new Apple Watch.

"...an hour and twelve minutes ago." You finished the sentence to relay a point. Your shift never ended truly.

"We also have a community service starting this afternoon for orientation." Handing Maggie papers, you were sure you left your car keys in the office.

"Is he hot?" Maggie cast her eyes over to the spot that you always left your car keys. The Ford Ka logo catching the same glare as her watch. She'll let you sweat another three minutes.

"What makes you assume it's a "he"? Also, I haven't met them and...have you seen my car-" Maggie grabs the keys from the medicine shelf and dangles them in front of your exhausted face.

"...keys." You took them in your hands and exchanged the knowing look with Maggie. Sighing, you tugged at your t-shirt and arranged the frayed hair on your head before continuing.

"Remember the orientation video. Not the Maggie rendition of "Why are you here? What crime did you do? And can you score pot for me?" because last time..."

"Yeah yeah, Moving and Handling, don't touch the medicine cabinet and never trust a felon. I get it Kitty Cat, go the fuck home. Have a bath. Maybe have a play with- Good Morning George!" The wrinkled face of Corporal George P Matthews poking his head around the door stopped the girls in their track.

"It's an hour past your shift. Shouldn't you be home by now?" His deep Southern accent was surprisingly soothing for a Wednesday morning.

"I'm not here. Just keeping Maggie up to date. Look after the new start for me this afternoon George. I need my best man on the case." You saluted the old war veteran and knew you could count on him to keep Maggie AND the convict in line.

"Moving and Handling video. Orientation and Introduction. Health and Safety. 8 fire doors, 36 emergency buttons and who's in charge. You can count on me Cat." Was all he said, a stiff and well practiced salute back as he ushered Maggie from the medicine room to fetch his morning Balance Bar that's hidden in the kitchen.

"I get first dibs if he's hot!" Was all Maggie shouted as she followed the real boss out the door and towards the kitchen.

_________

Tag List: @myownwholewildworld because she's an absolute dream & you should follow. Too talented not to become a sensation on Tumblr ❤️

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Would you write oliver with the stomach flu or food poisoning?

Bro, this one made me so freaking giddy! It's soooo cute!!❤️

TW: emeto

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

The notes on Oliver’s desk seemed unreadable. The lights and his computer screen were too bright. Everything was going from hot to cold to hot to—

“Brown, how’s it going over here?”

Oliver startled as he realized that Dan, the paper’s editor, was standing right behind him.

Forcing himself to look more awake, Oliver smiled and said, “Oh, everything’s going great. I’m just trying to keep it interesting. Rugby isn’t all that entertaining to write about.” Nor to watch, he thought, remembering the excruciating hour-and-a-half he’d spent watching the game for the sports section of the paper.

“Alright, well, keep working,” Dan said. “Remember, we’re short staffed thanks to this damned flu.” He looked across the room to where another one of the writers—Harriet Fordson—was all but sleeping on her desk. Dan stalked over to her, loudly saying, “Fordson! Look alive, it’s not your fucking naptime!”

Oliver ran a hand down his face, downing his whole mug of coffee and focusing on his article.

It was a whole hour of writing, re-writing, and more re-writing before he emailed the finished piece to Dan, and then he left with his notes shoved lazily into his bag.

He was exhausted and felt like shit, to say the least. For one, he’d spent the last night staying up and studying for three different exams, finishing two assignments, and drinking cup after cup of coffee until about 4 in the morning, and he’d woken up at seven in order to get to his first class by 7:30.

He knew he must’ve looked as shitty as he felt. And since he’d woken up, there was a churning in his gut that wouldn’t go away, but he summed it up to just being hungry since he’d had twelve cups of coffee in the last 24 hours and no food. He was done working for the day. He could get something to eat, and then go home to crash on his bed for twenty hours with his cat.

Yeah, he’d do that. Now he just had to figure out what he wanted to—

“Olive!”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile as Isaac came up beside him. The blonde practically radiated Golden Retriever energy, so it was impossible not to smile.

“Hey,” Oliver said, his voice as tired as he was.

Isaac seemed to pick up on this instantly and his own smile faltered slightly. He raised a brow, looking over Oliver’s disheveled appearance. “Well, don’t you look all bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired, that’s all. And hungry.”

“I was gonna head out and get some subway,” Isaac said, still grinning. “Wanna come?”

Oliver agreed instantly.

The two boys wound up taking Isaac’s car over to the subway, but on the drive there Oliver felt the ache in his stomach and his headache get worse. And once the two boys had their subs, Oliver felt nauseous after just a couple of bites.

Isaac looked across the tiny subway table and saw Oliver’s grimace as he forced himself to swallow another bite. Setting down his own sandwich, Isaac frowned and asked, “You okay, Olive?”

Oliver nodded without looking at Isaac, taking another forced bite. Isaac’s frown deepened.

Oliver wound up forcing himself to eat the whole sandwich, knowing he had to have some food in his stomach instead of just coffee. By the time he and Isaac were back in the car though, he’d gone three shades paler.

“Want me to bring you back to campus so you can get your car?” Isaac asked, but Oliver shook his head.

“Just take me to my place, please.”

During the drive, Isaac talked. A lot.

He was talking about some friend of his in his psychology class, about his little sister who he was planning to go see that weekend, about his new neighbor who was driving him crazy with blaring loud music, and about—

“Isaac, stop.”

In an instant, Isaac stopped talking and glanced at Oliver. The black-haired guy was glaring out the window, looking almost green. “Olive—”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Oliver said, his voice shaking a little. Saliva was quickly filling his mouth and he could taste not just his sandwich but also his coffee.

“Shit,” Isaac cursed, looking for somewhere to stop. “Okay, crap. . . Um, open the glove compartment. There’s plastic bags in there.”

Oliver did just that, hastily opening the glove compartment and grabbing a bag. He opened it just in time to throw up his undigested lunch.

Just the smell made him gag again and continue to puke into the bag.

Isaac cursed softly. Then said, “I keep the bags in here since you get carsick.”

Oliver, still hovering over the bag with a string of drool on his lower lip, was suddenly aware though that this was not carsickness. He swore under his breath before muttering, “I think I got the goddamn flu, Isaac.”

The blonde’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Again, Oliver gagged and threw up into the bag. The plastic bag was getting heavier.

Oliver was so busy trying to keep his gut in check that he didn’t even realize that Isaac had made a few turns in the wrong directions. They stopped sooner than they should’ve since Oliver’s place was about ten minutes from the subway, not five.

When Oliver looked up and saw Isaac’s apartment, he groaned and dropped his head. “You kidnapped me again, asshole.”

Isaac chuckled and got out of the car, going around to Oliver’s side and opening the door. “Yeah yeah, you can never escape my evil clutches,” he said teasingly as he took the bag from Oliver’s hands. He took the bag over to a trashcan in the parking lot and tossed it in before going back over to Oliver.

Oliver was standing outside the car now, leaning heavily against it. Even more color had drained from his face, and Isaac felt a pang of worry. His own bout with the flu had been real life hell. Knowing Oliver, the smaller guy was gonna have it far worse.

“C’mon, lean on me,” Isaac said, grabbing his best friend’s arm.

Oliver leaned against him with a dizzy whine, trying to swallow down the nausea. Once inside Isaac’s apartment, Oliver beelined for the guest bathroom.

Isaac took a second to grab a rag from his kitchen and a water bottle before going after Oliver.

In less than a minute, Oliver had thrown up in the toilet and was now gagging harshly over the porcelain bowl.

Isaac wet the rag with cold water from the sink before crouching down beside Oliver, wiping down his sweaty nape. “Just get it up. It’ll be better when you’re empty.”

Oliver continued to gag and puke, spitting the taste of his overly-sweetened coffee out of his mouth. Isaac cupped his forehead, hissing at the raging heat. I should take his temperature, the blonde thought to himself.

Oliver barely had time to breathe before more puke jetted from his mouth. Finally, though, he stopped and was left sweaty and panting for air.

Isaac wiped the puke off his best friend’s chin before coaxing Oliver to sit back against the wall and wiping down the black-haired boy’s face with the cold rag.

Oliver’s headache was worse. His body was aching even more. And his stomach—oh God, his stomach—felt like someone had run it through a fucking garbage disposal or something.

There was so much pain, and Oliver even felt a little close to tears because of how bad it hurt. Is this how it felt for Isaac?! And for all the other poor souls that this flu had gotten to?!

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes. You sweat though these,” Isaac said softly wiping the cold rag down Oliver’s flushed cheek before standing and setting the rag on the counter. He opened the water bottle, handed it to Oliver, said “small sips”, and then left.

Oliver blinked heavily, everything seeming hazy in his slight delirium. He wanted to sleep. He just really wanted to sleep.

Isaac came back with some clothes in his hands. He helped Oliver take off his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers before helping him put on a plain white t-shirt and some shorts.

Isaac had also brought a thermometer and held it up to Oliver, saying “Under the tongue.”

Oliver, dazed and sleepy, obeyed. Isaac watched the number climb before it beeped and stopped at 101.7 °F. Shit.

Isaac sighed and took the thermometer, setting it on the bathroom counter. Then he crouched in front of Oliver again.

“I feel like shit,” Oliver groaned. “Was yours this bad?”

Isaac knew his wasn’t. Oliver had the stomach of a five-year-old, and Isaac had known that this stomach flu was going to hit his best friend hard eventually.

Instead of answering, Isaac grabbed Oliver’s arms and said, “You need to be in bed.”

Oliver allowed himself to be pulled up, but as soon as he was on his feet it felt as if all of his blood went rushing down and his head felt detached from his body. He swayed, feeling the world tilting to the side before Isaac’s arms wrapped around him.

“Holy shit,” he heard the blonde curse, and then Isaac lowered himself and Oliver to the floor since, clearly, Oliver couldn’t even stand.

Oliver felt so dizzy. So sleepy.

Suddenly, one of Isaac’s arms was under his knees while Isaac’s other arm went around his shoulders, and the blonde scooped him up bridal style.

It was no struggle; Oliver weighed practically nothing and Isaac may not have still been a jock like he was in high school, but he was still strong.

Oliver closed his eyes, pressing his temple to Isaac’s shoulder to try and ease the throbbing pain in his head.

In a matter of seconds, Oliver was laid down on a bed and he felt sheets pulled over him.

He didn’t open his eyes, but he could hear moving around and suddenly there was something wet and cold on his forehead. More moving around, the lights in the room darkened behind his lids, something was set down next to the bed, and then Oliver felt Isaac climb into the bed next to him.

He opened his eyes then and looked to his side. Isaac was laying down next to him, and Oliver frowned. “I might throw up on you,” he mumbled, making Isaac smile and laugh.

“Y’know what? I’ll take the risk.” The blonde got comfortable on his side, scooting closer to Oliver, and then his hand flattened on Oliver’s stomach.

The irony was not lost on either of them, and the second they locked eyes they both smiled and laughed.

When Isaac’s hand started to rub gently, Oliver felt his cheeks grow warm and he hoped that Isaac didn’t notice.

Isaac’s head wound up on Oliver’s shoulder, and Oliver couldn’t help but think about how warm and comfortable he was. Finally, he could sleep. And as he allowed himself to drift off, three words kept playing over and over in his head:

I love you.

[kissproof]

Could you possibly do something with both mr.orange (readers boyfriend) who finally goes out and meets the rest of the dogs after giving Mr.orange a lovely hickey to show off. The dogs obviously give him a hard time about it but Mr.white just admires her handiwork and comments something like "that must have felt good" or "that must make him crazy worked up if you were able to get it that dark" until the reader offers to give Mr.white one as well. Which ends up possibly as a threesome.

thank you for your request loveeeee <3

SUMMARY: a hickey is worth a thousand words

WARNINGS: mature themes!

to say it was bad was an understatement. the goddamn thing was like europe threw up on the side of orange’s neck. you’d given it to him the night before in the back of a bar where the two of you giggled and got handsy like teenagers. it had only further developed since the darkness fell over it and left orange looking undeniably wringed out.

after hours of useless fretting over it, he wore the hickey proudly. he told himself that it was just another piece of you; a deliciously painful memory of your lips that he could carry throughout his day. plus, you were gonna meet the other dogs today. with you on his arm, it was like another trophy attached to its olympian.

as you strolled up to pat lorraine's, eddie and vic were already outside, stalking like gravekeepers with their smoking cigarettes. they eyed you both through sunglasses of varying tints, eddie making sure his pretty eyes got protected from the excessive californian UV.

“ain’t she somethin’?” eddie whistled within ear shot, marveling at the paint job of fred’s car as he curled it round the parking lot and stopped it at their feet. it was funny eddie said anything at all. he could’ve bought twelve of fred’s car plus the one he sat in now.

“well, she ain’t yours, pal,” freddie retorts with a smirk, yanking the gear in place with his head out the window.

“wasn’t talking about your girl.” vic squints, unwavering in his cloud of smoke. “but…now that you mention it…” he drops his sunglasses further down his nose and winks at you through the windshield.

with an eye roll, fred gets out of the car and your eyes follow his hurried footsteps along the asphalt, biting your lip as you wait. you hear your door jack open and shut, a rush of hot air hitting your arm.

“thank you, baby,” you hum with a smile.

“holy shit!” eddie cries, beside himself. “what the fuck is that?”

your attention is brought quickly from your body to the ever-so-obvious mark on freddie’s neck now that you were both gleaming in the sunlight.

“oh… i-" you stammer.

“i haven’t seen one that big since you got out of jail, vic!”

“fuck you, cabot.”

“what the fuck is taking you dicks so long— jesus, orange, your neck." a new voice emerges from the left of you followed by a pair of goofy long legs.

“i know," freddie grumbles, turning his body away and pinching his nose bridge.

“sorry. i’m pink--mr pink. nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you,” you say politely, forming your hand to his as he extends to greet you. you note that all of them smell of the same smoke.

“you do that?” pink asks, in awe, and you can only blush.

“let’s go,” freddie sighs and walks you inside, a hand on your back as you make it through the doors and spot two more men sitting down at a large table.

“hey! there they are! hello, beautiful.” the older man, who you know to be white, stands up with his arms outstretched and kisses your cheek as they all file in and sit down in their respective seats, leaving one open for you next to orange.

“hello-“

“what the fuck happened to you?” brown recoils, interrupting. his arm leaned on the back of his seat, yet another cigarette parked between his big fingers.

“what does it look like?” freddie cocks his hip, totally flustered.

“sweet thing gave our boy a real juicy kiss!” eddie laughs.

“it’s bigger than my hand!”

fred finally sits down next to you as white does the same, sandwiching you between them. “mustve taken a while…" he trails, eyeing your lips and imagining fred's neck. "t'get it that dark”

you eye white, curiously. “what? you want one, white?” brown smirks. a few scrapes of silverware is heard over the sudden silence of the table.

“just sayin… it’s a beautiful job.”

orange reaches his arm around your chair and hugs close to you. “well, you can all get a good look ‘cuz im done talking about it.”

“awwwwwww!”

“lover boy's embarrassed!”

you look back at freddie, then back to the guys. you shrug. “i’ll give you one too if you like it so much.”

“oh, yeah?” white adjusts himself in his seat and smiles, his face turning red.

freddie furrows his brow before poking his head in to get closer to white.

“in your dreams, white. she’s kidding.”

“i'm not!" you whine.

“baby-“

“it’s just a little kiss…”

you can't help but feel all the dogs' eyes watching you and orange as you look at each other, negotiating with the micromovements in your eyes. they'd never guessed orange would date someone who'd be so charitable!

eventually, freddie sighs, scooting himself back to face the other side of the diner, “…fine.”

you can imagine what happens next.

[bawltongue]

(jonathan davis x stealth transmasc reader <on t, post op top surgery>. takes place in 1996. Korns’ tour bus breaks down behind a gas station. reader stops to get gas at same gas station. reader bumps into Munky, who invites him back to the bus after they chat to meet the other guys and get stoned. Jon and the reader get flirty, Jon takes him up to his bunk and shows him “something cool”.)

Tour Bus

18+ !!!!!!!

warning: substance use (alcohol, marijuana), smut, (ftm) anatomy, lots of swearing

Jonathan Davis x Transmasc reader

"Ding-ding-ding"

"Fuck. Twelve miles left." You huffed out as the low fuel meter rung at you. You had been driving for about 3 hours now, not realizing you should've pulled over for gas a while ago before cutting it so close. It was a long way back home from your grandparents' house. It was great grandmas' funeral, and you couldn't afford to miss it. Despite the fact that you really wanted to go to this concert around the area the same day. The family needed you there, and you would've felt heartless to miss it. You were forced to take your cousin along with you, them snoring in the passenger seat for the last hour and a half leaving you with nobody to talk to. It was almost a blessing in disguise; you guys didn't always get along, especially not when you're forced to spend extended time together.

It was a pretty humid day out. The sun had been assaulting your senses all afternoon and it was finally starting to set, casting a warm orange-pink glow over the sky. Your surroundings seemed so barren with your car being the only one in sight on the highway; it really looked like the dawn of the apocalypse.

A few more miles out, a neon red sign flickers in the distance beckoning your attention. Blinking away the haziness in your eyes and squinting, you're able to make out what it says; "Gas". You let out a raspy sigh of relief and sped up a little, finally pulling up to the first pump you see.

Five miles left. Jesus fuck. Barely made it.

Parking your car swiftly and gathering up a crumbled twenty dollar bill and some quarters, you flick your snoozing cousin in the forehead.

"HUH?"

"I'm going in to get us gas, butthead."

"Man whatever. You interrupted my wet dream."

"Eugh... go back to sleep so you can't speak."

"Ugly son of a bit-"

Before he could finish, you slammed the car door and stretched your limbs, walking into the gas station.

Twenty on pump three please, twenty on pump three please…

You repeated in your head, always a little anxious for social interaction, despite how brief it may or may not be.

Opening the door, you observed the emptiness of the interior. The lights were somewhat dim, the sound of gas station hot dogs rotating in their nasty little machine rung in your ears, and there was quite literally nobody there, except for the cashier. At least you thought so until you saw a head pop up from behind the snack section in the corner of the store. You pay no mind to it started making your way towards the cashier, grabbing a Reese's peanut butter cup and dropping it in your pocket swiftly. Before you could confront the clerk, the sound of chip bags and tin cans hitting the floor made your ears perk up.

“Fuck!” You jumped a little as the sound of a disgruntled man’s voice cursed from not too far behind you. Unable to help yourself you turned around. He had dropped everything in his hands. You took in the man’s appearance immediately. Physically, he was interesting to look at. Frizzy dark brown dreads with streaks of blonde and orange, large dark circles under his eyes, very tall - at least 6 feet. He was wearing a tattered, striped sweater, kinda inappropriate for the hot weather that’s been scorching the south area you were in. He looked…. Familiar.

“Shit lemme help you out, man.” You stepped over to where he was crouched on the floor, bending down next to him.

“Oh, thanks!” His stoic and annoyed demeanor changed quickly the moment you offered to help. You try to make yourself appear as casual as possible as if you weren’t dissecting his familiarity. On the ground laid 3 packs of beer and 2 family sized bags of chips. How the hell was this guy even carrying all this?

“Hah! Crazy. I dig your shirt, man.” The stranger gestured to your stained Korn t-shirt. You looked down having forgotten what you were wearing.

“Oh, thanks! Yeah they’re like, my favorite ba-…” you cut yourself off as the realization hit you.

“Oh my GOD. Dude, you’re in fucking Korn! I KNEW you looked familiar! Holy shit! Oh my god- you’re Munky!” You practically yelped as your heart skipped about six beats. Immediately feeling embarrassed the second after you opened your mouth.

Munky laughed, flattered. You began telling him about how you wanted to go to their show the previous night but couldn’t make it due to your grandmothers’ funeral. How it was such a crazy coincidence that they ended up in the same direction that you were heading in, and it was even crazier that you had both ended up at the same gas station.

“Yeah, you know it’s a good thing there’s a gap between shows or else we’d be fucked. The second leg of our tour doesn’t start for another week. The bus is broke down in the back so we’re sorta stuck here for the night.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Dude, that sucks. I'm sorry to hear. I wish I was good with mechanics or something, but I think I might be kinda useless in that area. Is there anything I can do for y'all though since I'm here?"

“Well, not really... I mean, we’re bored as hell over here and we got all night. You seem pretty chill so… You wanna maybe come check out the bus and meet the guys? Have a couple beers with us?”

You took a deep breath and tried to play it cool. Not only was Korn your favorite band; but man, something about these guys turned you into a total flamer. How the literal fuck were you being invited into their tour bus right now? Is this real? A dream? Delusion?

“Dude, that’s like- so cool of you. I’d love that. Thank you! Are you sure it’d be cool with everyone?”

“Yeah, we all love meeting new people. Plus we’re just chillin’, stranded on the side of a dirt road. Why not?” He smiled warmly. He really seemed like a nice, down to earth guy.

"Usually, we have a few roadies with us to hang out-but it's just us this time around. Haven't really met anyone cool enough to grab yet."

After paying for the beers and snacks, he had you follow him out of the back door of the little convenience store. You took the Reese's out of your pocket and started unwrapping it, about to stress eat.

"You better hide that shit from Jon, he'll deepthroat that thing."

You smiled and dropped it back in your pocket as your heart skipped a beat. Lo and behold, the beautiful, weathered presence of Korns’ tour bus stood before you. It was getting more difficult to hide your expressions of disbelief. Which turned into borderline dissociation once Munky creaked open the door of the van to let you both inside.

You scanned the interior, instantly noticing the other guys. Head and David were sprawled out on a thin mattress on the floor. Head bundled up in a stain covered blanket surrounded by bottles of beer and candy wrappers. Him and David engaging in a friendly conversation. Fieldy was bumping some hip hop music on the radio near the front of the bus, bobbing his head, rapping along with a joint between his lips. It was dimly lit in there, totally dark outside now with only a few lamps lit around the bus. The whole inside was foggy with a layer of smoke from the countless bowls, blunts, joints and cigarettes that’ve been smoked in there within the past few hours. It stunk of weed, tobacco and alcohol. Maybe even a hint of puke. Needless to say, not a pleasant scent. You noticed Jonathan was nestled up in a teeny bunk bed, a half drank bottle of Jack Daniels by his side. He perked up when he noticed you walk into the bus, and it made you instantaneously shy as a jolt of electricity and anxiety sparked in your body.

“Yo guys, this is our new friend!.. er uh… what’d you say your name was again?”

“Y/n. It’s really fucking cool to meet you guys.” You managed to say without stuttering.

“Y/N! Make yourself at home!” He smiled and took the stack of beer from your arms, setting them down on the floor. You went around individually introducing yourself to the guys, who all seemed pretty down to earth. Head, Munky and David were really goofy, fun presences already. Fieldy was a little bit standoffish and in his own world. You had Jonathan left to meet, and your heart was fluttering. You had had a little crush on him since you first started listening to Korn back in 93’. The fact that you had the chance in this moment to meet Jonathan Davis was utterly freaking you out. He was laying in his bunk, turned around awkwardly to look at you with glassy eyes. You didn't really know how to or whether you should even approach him, he looked like he had awoken from a nap when you first entered.

"Hey." He waved to get you attention.

"Oh shit, hey."

"You alright? You like, zoned out there, dude." Jon smiled softly and extended his hand down to you, still laying in bed.

"Pft, yeah I'm cool. Just... just tired. Uh... I'm y/n. Honestly, I'm like, not even believing I'm really meeting you right now dude." You extended your hand back to shake his. It was clammy. In fact, both your hands were.

"Heheh, thanks for digging my band. Means a lot. Did you get to come to the show tonight?"

"Nah man, I had to uh, go to a funeral."

Jons gaze softened, and he furrowed his eyebrows in sympathy. "Shit dude I'm sorry to hear that. Sounds like you need to unwind." He hopped down from his bunk and patted you on the back as he stumbled over to an ashtray, pulling out a quarter smoked joint and heading back over. You could tell he was already slightly intoxicated.

He grabbed your wrist and lead you over to a cluster of beanbags in the corner of the bus where he slumped down and patted the spot next to him. Your face was hot, but in the darkness it was too hard to tell.

"Fuck, I didn't realize I needed this until now." You threw your head back and smiled, a relieved look on your face.

"Here, you get the first hit. You deserve it." He put the joint up to your lips and lit it before you could even register that you were inhaling. Jon was staring at your lips while you were doing so the whole time, not shifting his gaze as he took a hit himself. You looked away shyly, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke. It was already making your head feel a bit fuzzy.

The both of you went back and forth engaging in conversation as Jon kept lighting and holding it to both your lips. There was no telling how much time was passing as you both got higher and higher, Jon crossfaded from the alcohol he had earlier. You talked about movies, music, a little bit about family too. You told him about your great grandmother briefly, to which he was very sweet about. He provided you comfort and reassurance. Out of all the guys, you didn't expect Jon to be the most eager one to talk to you, but he had been very obviously fixating on every word you said. It was hard to tell if it was because of how fucked up he was, or if he just really liked to hear you talk.

"Yo, your eyes are glossy as FUCK." You snickered, suddenly realizing how stoned you both were.

He laughed and patted your shoulder. "Shit, it's a good thing we don't have to give a fuck. Nobody else is here but us."

You smiled, but it quickly faded as you realized your cousin was still waiting for you in the car. "FUCK, Jon, I-I totally forgot my cousin in the fucking car! Hold up!"

You shot up and borderline threw yourself out of the door, almost greening out when you stepped down from the bus. The sky was completely black, and you had no idea how many hours had passed by since you first entered the gas station. All you knew was the anxiety and guilt that flooded through your dizzied, intoxicated mind.

"DUDE!" You stumbled to your car, now parked and sitting in a parking space rather than by a gas pump. "I am so fucking sorry!"

Your cousin sat up from the driver's seat, rolling the window down with an expression that bore into your soul.

"Are you fuckin' serious man? What the fuck were you doing for two and a half hours? I went into that gas station three separate times and not even the fuckin clerk knew where you were! I was about to ditch you and tell your parents you went missing!"

"I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to explain myself dude. You seriously wouldn't even believe me. I'm really so-"

"Nah dude. I don't accept. You really pissed me the fuck off tonight, man. Did you just like, wake up this morning and decide to be a prick? You just like to inconvenience me?"

"Don't be a fucking dick. You're not making me wanna step into the car with you again for another hour."

"What other choice do you have? You gonna sleep at the gas station? Just get in the fucking stupid car already so we can go home- wait, who the fuck is that?"

You sneered, face hot and about to snap back before you felt a hand grip your shoulder.

"Hey, y/n. Coming back to the bus?" You spun around to see Jonathan, lightly squeezing you. Your cousin was staring at the two of you with an eyebrow raised, simultaneously pissed off and confused.

"I-uh, well, I don't-"

"You were gonna spend the night, right? I got so much more green for us to plow through in there, man." He winked at you.

"What? The fuck? If you're gonna go be gay and get high in a stranger's dingy ass van, go fucking do it. I don't actually give a fuck. Just tell me now so I can drive myself home."

"Man, you suck!" Jon laughed out, his eyes almost closed from how puffy his lids are. "I think y/n's gonna stay with me in our faggy little junkie orgy bus. You know, so we can be gay and get high?" His hand moved from your shoulder down your arm to grip your wrist a little firmly. You felt your cheeks burn. The nerves in your body were going insane with the sudden touchiness and abrupt possessiveness.

"That sound cool?" Jon looked down at you, raising his eyebrows awaiting your response. "No pressure" He silently mouthed.

"Fo sho'! I was just gonna let him know. I'll see you at home, jerkoff." You stuck your tongue out at your cousin, clearly boiling with annoyance but unable to formulate a response.

"Whatever, I don't give a shit what you do. You're annoying. Don't get killed." He shrugged aggressively and rolled the window back up.

Jonathan tugged you lightly to turn back in the direction of the bus and smiled at you, earning a smile back. He moved his arm up around your shoulder as you walked back together, ignoring the sound of your car peeling out of the parking space and your cousin laying on the horn. Despite the attitude, you actually did feel kind of bad for leaving him there for so long.

"Aren't you glad you get to spend the night with me-uh, us instead of that dickhead?"

"Yeah dude. I really appreciate it. That car ride would've had my mouth watering for a shotgun within the first five minuets. Thank you." You blushed and continued walking alongside him.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say yes. I kinda wanted an excuse to get to know you a little better anyways." Looking down at you, he smiled coyly and traced a finger against your shoulder in little circles. It gave you goosebumps.

Am I imagining things, or is he being flirtatious with me right now?...