#i need a sign that i can stick on my forehead that says I AM WEARING HEADPHONES DONT TALK TO ME

[thenightmarebluntrotation]

try fuckin listening to a song in this house it doesn't work

[angelovi]

simon that just needs his frustrations taken out on his baby girl.

he storms into the house, slamming the front door behind him, not even bothering to take off his gear.

his steps are hurried and unsteady as he makes his way to where he knows you���ll be—the bedroom you two share every night. bursting in, his harsh demeanor falters, his gaze softening as he takes in your peaceful, angelic expression.

without wasting another moment, he gently guides you onto the bed, his hands tender as they cradle your soft cheeks.

"pants off. now."

you move quickly at his command, slipping off your pants and leaving yourself in just his oversized t-shirt and the delicate pink lace panties he had given you as a gift on your last birthday.

"oh, such a sweet girl..."

"arms up," he instructs

he slides your shirt off, revealing your skin marked with love bites from previous nights.

"so fuckin' beautiful. look at these pretty tits."

his lips trail over the soft curves of your chest, leaving gentle kisses, while his hand moves to caress and tease the other.

"you wear these panties just for me baby? i know they're your favorite."

he kisses his way down your torso, avoiding where you need him most and he knows it, and a smirk grazes his face.

"simon please..."

"use your words baby. be a big girl yeah?"

You quickly yield to the request, your voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper as a sense of desperation fills your words.

"fuck me simon."

"atta girl."

without a second thought he shoves you down further into the sheets, quickly unbuckling his pants and slipping himself inside you, too rushed to take off any more clothing.

"god you're so fuckin' tight."

he rams his hips into you, showing no mercy, only set on one goal: fucking you dumb.

"you'd be so pretty when you're round with my kids yeah? you up for that mama?"

You offer a quiet nod, your throat tightening as the weight of unspoken words hangs heavily in the air. The silence envelops you, and you choose to hold back, your lips sealed in uncertainty as you wrestle with the urge to say something, anything.

He can feel the way you grip him, a delightful tension building between you both, as anticipation courses through the air. It’s a familiar sign, one that tells him you're moments away from a culmination that has been building.

"cum for me princess. let me feel you."

simon shoves two fingers in your mouth to silence you, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors.

with a muffled moan, you let go, feeling pleasure take over every fiber of your body.

shortly after, he empties himself inside of you, ensuring that it sticks and you finally give him the kid you two have been dreaming of.

“i am so incredibly proud of you, my love. You truly are nothing short of perfect in every way.”

you feel his soft, warm lips kiss your forehead before you're lulled to sleep by his touch.

another basic story lol i need suggestions

[sincerelybubbles]

a. hotchner x reader - crawling through your window

i saw someone post about their fav crawling through a window in the rain and the long-form spencer fic is rotting my brain so enjoy hotch crawling through your window <3

i don't think there are any warnings, lmk if that's wrong. also, not proof read, I am back to my usual bullshit

The knock on your door was probably easy to miss. You wouldn’t know, though, because you didn’t hear it.

You were in the kitchen, hunched over the counter, forehead pressed to the cool marble as you debated whether or not another cup of coffee would actually be helpful at this point or just make the buzzing in your head worse. The case had been brutal. Messy, exhausting, the kind that left shadows under everyone’s eyes and an ache in your bones that no amount of stretching could shake.

Nausea builds deep in your navel, a resounding sign that you need to go to sleep, and soon.

You had ignored your phone when it rang earlier. The thought of answering it, of extending your exhaustion into another conversation, had felt impossible. And now, lost in your haze of weariness, you missed the second attempt at contact.

It wasn’t until the faintest creak from somewhere inside your apartment—somewhere that shouldn’t have been occupied—reached your ears that you felt the first tendrils of alarm coil around your spine.

You straightened, heart picking up speed, blood surging in your veins as your mind catalogued the possible explanations. The locked door. The windows—

Your bedroom window had been cracked open to let the storm air in earlier.

And now, standing in the dim light of your apartment, soaked from head to toe, rainwater dripping onto your floor, stood Aaron Hotchner.

Your mouth opened, words tangling, tripping over each other, before settling on a very eloquent:

“What the—Aaron?”

His expression didn’t change. If anything, the faintest flicker of exasperation crossed his features, a barely-there pinch between his brows.

“The door was locked.”

A beat of silence.

You blinked.

“I—” You shook your head, taking a step back like that might help you process this. “Are you breaking into my apartment?”

He sighed, heavy, dripping water like a crime scene in your doorway. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“…So you climbed through my window?”

“I took the fire escape.”

“Oh, well, that’s so much better.”

You stared at him, stunned, watching the way his soaked dress shirt clung to his arms, how his tie was askew, his hair darkened and sticking to his forehead from the rain. His jacket was nowhere to be seen, and he was standing there, entirely unbothered by the fact that he had just climbed into your apartment in the middle of a downpour like some kind of brooding, law-abiding criminal.

The absurdity of the situation was just shy of sending you into a laughing fit. Instead, you rubbed your hands down your face, exhausted in a way that felt almost separate from the case now.

“I can’t believe you,” you muttered, shaking your head as you finally moved, stepping around him to grab a towel from the hall closet.

When you turned back, he was still watching you, carefully, the way he always did—assessing, reading, cataloguing your reaction. The way you hadn’t been answering your phone. The way you were still drained, that bone-deep exhaustion sitting behind your eyes.

Aaron never failed to make you feel seen - for better or for worse. With your messy hair, smeared makeup, and stained sweats, you're not sure how you feel about the in-depth examination your boyfriend is currently giving you.

Aaron would never do anything to make you feel even remotely uncomfortable or ugly but self-consciousness creeps through you, anyway.

You shoved the towel at him.

“You’re actually insane,” you informed him.

He took it, finally moving to scrub some of the rain from his face and hair. “And you should answer your phone. You know, before I feel the need to crawl through your third-story apartment window to check on you.”

"You can just say you miss me, you know." Teasing him is easier with your back to him, planning on warming him up some tea - coffee was out of the question now that he's here, there's no chance he's letting you caffeinate yourself further.

"I missed you," Aaron says, arms snaking around your waist and nose settling in the curve where your shoulder and neck meet. "And I was worried. And I wanted to ask if I could spend the night before we're thrown back into work tomorrow. Is that wrong?"

Fluttering at the base of your stomach erupts instantly at the tone of his deep voice, tone open, honest, and raw.

"Someone's tired," you say, voice soft, hands reaching up to grasp at his forearms. It's not that Aaron isn't affectionate, far from it, but he usually goads into your teasing, resisting for the fun of the give and take. Instead, he's leaning his weight on you, breathing in your scent heavily.

He also climbed through your window to see you. There's that, too.

"Exhausted. And wet. And now so are you." With a flex you can feel through his soaked dress shirt, Aaron lifts you easily and begins walking backward into your room. "I think that means I'm entitled to a shower."

"Aaron!" You giggle out, leaning back against him in lieu of fighting. Your incredibly loving, handsome, and usually-stern boyfriend is carrying you to the shower - who are you to complain?

[threestarsinline]

The Word of Your Body

Jason Todd x reader one shot

Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.

Word Count: 5.8K

Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him

Warnings: Jason having a bad time

Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!

It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.

And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.

You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.

That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.

You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.

You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.

And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.

And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.

You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.

You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.

That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.

Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.

When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.

Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.

But nothing. He stays frozen.

You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.

But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.

You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.

He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.

Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.

Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.

He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.

“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.

You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.

The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.

But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.

From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.

You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.

Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.

You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.

His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.

You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.

But still, his gaze remains lost.

You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.

However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.

You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.

Stay.

Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”

As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.

“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.

You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?

Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.

You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.

Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.

Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.

You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.

Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.

Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.

You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.

“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.

You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.

But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.

You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.

You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.

You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.

You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.

“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.

Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.

“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”

Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.

He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.

The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.

Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.

Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.

“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.

“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.

Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.

Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.

He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.

He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.

“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.

And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.

Home.

Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”

You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.

Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.

But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.

And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.

Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.

The impotence. The sadness. The failure.

He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.

“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-

You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.

“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.

“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”

You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.

“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.

“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.

You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.

And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.

“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.

He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.

“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.

This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.

After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.

He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.

You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.

He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.

You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.

He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.

And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.

Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[wrangleandtame]

Here’s a wee fluffy fic: canon-divergence after El Reno Tornado. Full fluff under the cut.

HE SAW STARS

Tyler was running before his mind made sense of what was happening. His legs could only carry him as fast as his injury would allow, and had he actually thought through his intentions, he would have found a working car in the rubble. As it was, he could only function on his driving instinct to reach her.

A prayer ran through his mind to the beat of his heart and in time with his footfall: please be alive please be alive please be alive please be alive…

In a field of what might have once been thriving winter wheat he felt more than heard a white pickup truck pull up next to him, Boone at the wheel hollering, “get in! Get in!”

“North!” Tyler directed as he pulled himself onto the blanketed benchseat.

“Yep,” Boone floored it.

“Whose truck is this?” Tyler asked, his eyes desperately scanning the horizon for a glimpse of yellow barrels, a red truck - anything.

“No idea,” Boone shrugged, “shit there it is!”

He could see his truck in the distance flipped upside down, “faster Boone.”

As they approached, Tyler spotted her prone body a few feet from the truck.

No no no no no no no. He didn’t know whether he was thinking it or saying it aloud, but he was out of the truck before it even came to a full stop and dropped to the ground beside her. She lay on her back unconscious and spread like a starfish.

“No. Nonononono,” he whispered, pulling her limp body into his lap and clumsily pressing two fingers into her neck in different spots attempting to locate her pulse.

She was covered in haphazard cuts and dirt, bruises already forming on her arms. A significant amount of blood on her forehead sent dread shooting through him.

“Kate! Kate, wake up!” Tyler pleaded just as he found the steady beat of her pulse.

“Wake up. I need you to wake up Kate,” his voice calmed by her sign of life, he attempted to gently brush back the blonde locks sticking to the blood on her forehead. Small pieces of glass imbedded in her skin flickered light like diamonds

“I am awake,” she mumbled without opening her eyes, and Tyler could hear Boone behind him releasing a held breath.

Tyler smiled at the sound of her voice, “can you open your eyes for me? Kate? Open your eyes.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and confusion dressed her face. “Tyler?” She rasped, then her eyes closed again.

“Stay with me here Kate,” Tyler thumbed mud from her chin.

Her eyes slowly opened again, this time unfocused and then looking past him into the sky and she gasped, “did it work?”

“You did it. You saved us.”

She scanned his face, and her smile immediately dropped, “then why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he countered, two fat tears marking a clean runway down his smiling face.

“Tyler are you hurt? Your leg?”

“I’m fine,” he kept smiling. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Did we…” the words stuck and she swallowed.

“Did we what?” He sniffed.

“Did we lose anyone? Is Javi okay?”

“Javi’s fine. The team is fine. You saved us. But I’d like to get you to a hospital.”

“Am I hurt? Is that why you’re crying?”

“I’m not crying,” he repeated, a tear dropping from his chin onto her chest, “I think you have a concussion. At least.”

“A concussion? Did I hit my head?”

“Your pupils are dilated, you’ve got a pretty good hairline laceration.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. So did I pass the tornado wrangler initiation?”

Boone laughed, “I think you get to be president now.”

She tipped her head to get a glimpse of Boone and winced in obvious pain, a small cry escaping her lips.

“What? What is it?” Tyler ran his hand down her neck looking for injuries.

“Mm,” she squinted her eyes closed, “just give me…a second.”

“What hurts? Kate?”

“I think maybe…my shoulder is out of… I feel a little drunk, but not in a good way,” she opened her eyes and watched Tyler’s face contort in concern.

“Collarbone, yeah, I see it. Kate, I think it’s broken.”

“Your eyes, god, they’re beautiful when you cry,” she ran her left thumb along his eyebrow, down around his ear and along his jaw.

“He’s crying because he thought you were toast,” Boone added helpfully, “I’m going to check the truck, maybe there’s something we can use for a sling or something.”

“That’s why? You were worried? For me?” Tyler grabbed her hand from his jaw and held it.

“You drove into that tornado. By yourself. You just, you just left.”

“You drive into tornadoes all the time.”

“Not like that. That was brave and I was scared you were… That you… Shit, Kate,” he blinked rapidly, the tears pooling again.

“Come here.”

“Where?”

“I can’t raise myself up because of my possibly broken clavicle, so I’m going to need you to lean in here so that I can kiss you.”

His eyes rounded

She smiled her full toothy grin, “preferably before Boone gets back.”

He dropped his mouth into hers, not as tentatively as he would have liked and kissed the living daylights out of her.

Tyler would describe it to anyone who would listen for years to come: This epically great kiss ended with his vision dissolving into stars—that’s how good it was. Kate could then be counted on to interject that there was a valid scientific explanation for seeing stars, and it was simply the interplay of neurological, retinal, and physiological responses to hypoxia, probably brought on by adrenaline surges and vasodilation.

“Definitely,” Tyler would agree with a wink, “adrenaline surges and vasodilation brought on by you in that red tank top with the camera holster.”

[talesofesther]

keeper of my heart

Neve Gallus x Rook

Summary: She never did gave up easily, that much Rook had learned on the first few days of knowing Neve. But sometimes, Rook wonders when was the last time that Neve brought herself in before the cold reached her.

A/N: Neve Gallus has bewitched my heart, I wasn't expecting it, but she's just so incredibly lovable.

Masterlist

The rain falls heavier in Dock Town. There's a grey mist on the horizon; little besides the glowing store signs can be seen past the raindrops, which only grow thicker. The stray cats have taken shelter under store roofs and market stands, and the streets are steadily growing deserted. People are used to rain falling in Dock Town, it's easier to count the days when it doesn't rain, than the ones when it does. But even the locals can only take so much before the cold of the raindrops seeps through their clothing.

And yet Rook watches, from under a precarious awning, as Neve continuously shifts through the many papers pinned to the news board. The detective stands under the increasing rain, not wasting a second before any clue she might find on those papers gets too soaked.

She never did gave up easily, that much Rook had learned on the first few days of knowing Neve. But sometimes, Rook wonders when was the last time that Neve brought herself in before the cold reached her.

"Neve," she calls, loudly enough to be heard over the downpour, but there's no response. The rain has caused Neve's hair to stick to her forehead, the green round Fascinator she wears doesn't do much to cover her face anyway. It makes Rook smile for a brief moment.

Neve is holding two papers in her hands—reports of missing people, no doubt—a little hunched over, trying to shield them from rain. From the small distance separating them, Rook can see her squinting her eyes, having difficulty reading the words.

"Let's get inside." Rook tries again, taking a step forward and feeling how the wind carries tiny drops of rain against her already. "Neve, the rain is only getting heavier, we can come back later."

"I'll catch up," Neve calls to her, without looking up, "You can go, Rook, I need to finish this."

Rook sighs, there's a mix of fondness and indignation to the tilt of her brows as she looks at Neve. She shakes her head and curses her heart, before walking forward and under the rain, her feet splashing puddles as they carry her to the ice mage. "You know I am not leaving you here alone." The words fall easily from Rook's lips, it's a truth she's said a couple of times already—and she's willing to say many more, until Neve believes her.

There's a shiver that travels through Neve's body when the softness of Rook's voice cuts through the rain. Neve looks up at last, and she's standing so close. Rook gazes at her through her lashes, raindrops increasingly rolling down her skin; one in particular, Neve can't help but follow, her eyes trace its path until it reaches Rook's lips, stopping right at the corner.

Neve clears her throat to steel herself, mouth dry. She blinks away the rain from her eyes. "Rook I mean it, there's no reason for us both to get soaked."

"There's no reason for any of us to get soaked," Rook is quick to counter, raising a brow. "Come on, Neve. We can pick the trail back up as soon as the rain lets up."

Neve shakes her head even before Rook finishes talking. The detective purses her lips; there's a tightness growing in her throat that she hates. She clutches at the papers in her hands, so much so that her finger pokes a hole through the damp, fragile material. "No, I need… I need to solve this." Something heavy hangs onto Neve's words. It's choked and sounds a lot like desperation.

For a long moment, the only sound comes from the rain hitting the cobblestone streets. Rook observes how Neve refuses to meet her gaze, how her lip wobbles, and how the tears slowly but steadily gather on the lower lid of her eyes. As gently as she can, Rook reaches out, her hands finding Neve's. The mage doesn't fight it when Rook takes the soaked papers from her hands—it's not like she'll be reading them anyway, the ink has already started to blur and smudge.

The skin of Neve's hands is cold, too cold. Rook holds her tight, her thumb drawing tender patterns over the other woman's palms.

A trembling breath escapes Neve. She turns her head to the side, seemingly conflicted, trying to create a distance that she herself despises. Her brows are deeply furrowed but wet tracks are running down her cheeks, and Rook knows they don't come only from the rain. She pretends not to notice though, allowing Neve to believe the rain hides her vulnerability.

"I need answers, Rook." Neve holds her voice steady, despite the clench of her jaw. Rook wonders just how practiced she is at dismissing her own pain. "Aelia's back in town, people have started going missing, who knows what else she might-" The mage turns to Rook, her eyes are sharp but tremble at the corners. "She's my problem."

Rook's heart bleeds, she can't help but shift closer to Neve. Her hands find Neve's arms, brushing up and down in a sorry attempt at bringing warmth and comfort where there hasn't been any for way too long. The rain only grows colder, it falls heavily around them, soaks through their clothes and Rook can taste the fresh raindrops on her lips.

"And you…" Neve continues and then hesitates, there are raindrops or tears clinging to her eyelashes. "You won't leave," it's nothing but a breath past Neve's lips, teetering on the edge of being a whimper—a realization that tastes incredibly bittersweet. She lowers her head, hands finding purchase on Rook's coat and gripping tightly. Rook. Her Rook. Her Trouble. Neve could hate her. For insisting on staying, on showing her time and time again that maybe she's someone worth mending.

Neve could hate her, if she didn't love her so much. And the mere thought of the heavy word sends a chill down her back.

"And it's my fault that Aelia knows how much I-… That you matter to me, Rook. I have to make this right." The fear, the grief coating Neve's words is raw; a wound that's been poorly stitched again and again and bleeds anew.

The detective sinks deeper into guilt, into the hard truth that anyone who shows up for her pays the price sooner or later. She's doomed, and if Rook goes down with her because of it…

Soft hands cup Neve's cheeks. The touch steals her breath away in a gasp and brings fresh tears to cloud her vision. But the world around seems to fade, if only a little, as Rook holds her with something akin to reverence. Her thumbs brush over Neve's freckled skin, wiping away tears and raindrops alike.

Perhaps selfishly, Neve melts against the touch, burying her nose into the warmth of the other woman.

"You're right. I won't leave." Rook's emotions slip through her fingers when she speaks. Her gaze goes over Neve's lips, they're parted and with a faded blue hue from the cold. "So stay with me, too," Rook speaks quietly and tentatively, but she's so close that Neve feels more than hears the words.

There's a sudden sound in the distance, cats jumping between wooden boxes and running from the rain. At the same time, Neve's hand comes up to close around Rook's wrist, her thumb pressing against the pulse point there, feeling a steady and reassuring rhythm underneath. She counts the beats; one, two, three, and the fourth comes a little quicker, just before Rook pushes stray strands of Neve's wet hair behind her ear. The touch is all tender and calm, a contrast to the rapid beating that Neve feels under Rook's skin.

Her hand lingers, Rook's fingers mapping the shape of Neve's jaw, her lips. She leans closer before her courage escapes her, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Neve's mouth. It feels a lot like a promise.

When a sheepish, small smile pushes its way to the detective's lips and her cheeks grow a little warmer under Rook's fingers, she lowers her hands, but doesn't let go of Neve.

"Come on, let's get away from this cold."

Rook tugs on her hand, holding tight enough so no raindrops slip between them. And Neve lets her.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Neve's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[sunnycanvas]

Hello, you can do one where Baldwin's wife teaches her husband how to cook while she is pregnant.

"Are you sure mon cher , that you don't want me to help" I asked sitting on a chair. Baldwin frustrated gritted his teeth and replied saying "Yes, I am sure" "What made you think that it was okay for you to dress up as knight and come to battle". Slamming the wooden spoon on kitchen counter he said "Especially whilst you were pregnant". Baldwin glared at me while he was cooking as he gritted his teeth in frustration". I watched his blonde hair sticking on his forehead as sweat poured down from his temple down to his chest. The sight of him angry, cooking shirtless in sweat was beautiful. "He is so handsome" I thought as I shamelessly ogled his body. "Hey, I know what you are thinking pervert". Baldwin smirked reading your expression. He was flattered by your thoughts however when he looked down and saw his chest full of scars and wounds leprosy gave he couldn't help but feel insecure.

"Mon amour as much I want to bang you" "I want to remind you that porridge is about to get burnt"

Baldwin yelped and he immediately went back to his cooking. You never thought you would see Baldwin 'yelp' while cooking. The sight of Baldwin scared while cooking was so comical that you couldn't help but laugh. Baldwin's ear turned red in embarrassment as he heard you laughing while he tried to keep his cooking steady. "So cute" I thought. I got from my chair and approached him. "May I" I asked Baldwin as he reluctantly handed me the wooden spoon. Confidently I was able to handle the mistakes Baldwin made, Baldwin watched me in awe and admiration. I smiled feeling proud and was about to turn to face him about to say something. However just I was about to turn. I noticed some boiled porridge on his arm. Baldwin sensing my stare realised that I had gotten worried. "It doesn't hurt does it?' I asked worried. Baldwin smiled sadly and replied "No, Mon amour" "It doesn't".

"I need to be quick" I thought hurriedly as I resumed my cooking. To distract ourselves from this tense atmosphere. I instructed Baldwin to cut vegetables.

"Chop"

"Chop"

"Gentle" I scolded. "Scolding a King of Jerusalem" Baldwin grumbled like a child. I giggled and said "I am sure that our child will be happy that you are such a supportive papa who tries to pamper maman every chance he gets"

Baldwin heart fluttered when he heard this and mischievously replied "Unfortunately, maman loves to trouble papa" I gasped and playfully hit him with spoon whilst he laughed

Later, Baldwin helped me down to sit on mat. Then he put down the plate on mat. He then served porridge. Before going to his place to eat. He came near me. He gently put his hand on my stomach whilst he burried his head on my shoulder smelling me as he slowly calmed down"

"Baldwin" I thought suddenly feeling guilty of my actions

"Mon amour, I don't know why I had a feeling. That you knew the outcome of this battle". I stiffened up when I heard it which did not escape Baldwin's gaze.

Baldwin sighed sadly and said "(Y/N) swear an oath to me that you would never leave me" "Even when I loose everything my kingdom as well as my people" "I can't loose you as well"

Offended I replied "How can you say that"

Upset Baldwin replied "Look at me" He made gesture with his hands showing his face which obvious signs of leprosy. "I am a leper" "You must have realised that I was going to loose this battle since I am disfavored by god"

"If only I could tell you" I thought sadly

I gently caressed his disfigured cheek and said "I love you" "Never doubt that" " As for your question my love screams in pain everytime you leave for war" "This time I followed you out of worry"

I could tell Baldwin did not believe me. To ease his worries I said "I love you Baldwin IV of Anjou" "King of Jerusalem" "I won't leave". "I swear it". That was enough for Baldwin to smile and ease his insecurities. He replied "I love you too". "Now let's eat" "I don't want our child to think that I don't take care of maman"

[whumpback-wail]

05 - Divulgence

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation.

They say being pregnant means everyday is another day closer to meeting the love of your life. One anticipates meeting the fruit of their love with their spouse, looking forward to the bright sunshine days of taking care of that precious someone.

(y/n) did not understand that feeling. In fact she felt the exact opposite, as she slid down the walls of the bathroom, legs too weak to support her own weight. The pregnancy stick in her hand fell to the floor, bouncing to a stop face up, showing the positive sign. Why does this happen to her? What did she ever do to deserve this?

She has to call nurse Komaki, she will know what to do. The thing was still a cell after all, with no soul not consciousness, it should be perfectly fine. It would be so much more cruel to keep the innocent being and let it be born, only for them to later be neglected and unloved. No child deserves that. Not even one born from being forced into her womb by the person she despised the most.

It was nearing lunch, and she knew her fiancé would be back by then, he always makes time to have lunch with her. She has to tell nurse Komaki fast.

(y/n) took several deep breaths to calm herself, and then slowly got up to her bed again, pressing the call button.

A few moments later, she heard the door open.

"Nurse Komaki, I-" (y/n) turned her head, and came face to face with a different nurse altogether. It was not Komaki.

"I'm sorry, nurse Komaki is away right now, her shift will start later tonight. Is there anything I can help you with, miss (y/n)?"

(y/n) blinked back her tears, "n-no. It's okay, nothing too serious."

The nurse stood there, contemplating. "Are you sure miss?"

(y/n) nodded, racking her brain to think of an excuse or anything to justify calling a nurse to her room for nothing. "oh umm… may I have some water please?"

"Sure. It will be delivered here in a moment. Don't hesitate to call me if there's anything else that you need, okay?"

(y/n) hummed and thanked her. She watched as the nurse exit her room. She wanted Komaki, she's the only nurse (y/n) trusted at this moment, especially with something like this.

It wasn't long until the water is delivered to her room, which arrived at about the same time as Wriothesley.

He greeted her with a smile. It normally made her feel safe and loved, but right now, (y/n)'s heart sank to her stomach

"Hey, how's my sunshine doing?"

He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. Wriothesley knew he should be careful around her, as her therapist had suggested to him, at least until she is less jumpy and can initiate affectionate gestures more. So far she's taking his affections very well, which made him happy about her progress.

"As usual," (y/n) forced a smile, briefly looking into his eyes before quickly averting her gaze back to her hands. She picked at a loose string on her blanket. 

Speak more, he will notice something is off.

"The healers were a great help to my physical injuries. But they kept stopping after a little while, saying I should rest up because the sped up healing is also draining my energy."

Wriothesley nodded, "I was told, yeah. How's your stomach? Got anything you're craving to eat?"

(y/n) froze. "What?" She managed to not stammer, but her voice cracked as her heart was suddenly frozen with fear. Did he find out? How did he know-

"Just wondering how your stomach felt." Wriothesley tilted his head, confused. It was a small quirk she had found endearing.

"The doctors did say you can only eat soft food for a while to avoid refeeding syndrome, but yesterday you were finally allowed to start eating bread and some fowl. Also because you threw up yesterday."

"Oh…" (y/n) felt stupid, "it's alright now, although I don't really feel like eating."

Wriothesley watched her for a moment. He has always been someone perceptive, that's how he knew who to trust and who to avoid in meropide while still serving his sentence, and that's how he could rise through the ranks and become the duke, despite his humble beginnings. At that moment, something is off about his fiancée.

“Darling are you okay?” he took her hand in his, his other hand brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear, “I feel like you have something weighing your mind. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

For a moment, (y/n) wavered. Is it really okay to tell him about her pregnancy? She knew Wriothesley wouldn’t blame her, after all, what happened was not something she wanted, far from it. So technically it’s not her fault right? But a small nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to just keep it to herself for now. There were too many what ifs. It’s safer to just keep quiet about it and deal with it under wraps. She’ll tell him, of course she will, but not now.

“I’m fine,” she forced herself to look into his eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Just wondering how much longer I have to stay cooped up in here.”

Lunch went well with Wriothesley, he told her about his day. He went back to the Fortress of Meropide for a while, to keep an eye on how things are going there, before coming over to her for lunch. After this he planned to proceed with investigations, and perhaps wrap things up early so he could spend more time with her after dinner.

(y/n) managed to eat a little more, despite the anxiety induced nausea, at least enough to not make her look suspicious.

Once lunch was over, Wriothesley gave her another peck on the forehead and left to continue with investigations, with promises of taking (y/n) to the gardens near the hospital once the doctors gave her the clear, and perhaps visit Navia and Neuvilette, as the two are also her friend, as much as they are to him. He wanted more than anything to stay with her the whole time she recovered, but seeing how she often flinched if he moved a little too quickly, or how her eyes often went blank as if she was not really there, he knew he had to do something about it. The therapist assigned to her told him that she may need some time to process through the trauma, and that it was natural that she would be jumpy for the time being, and would need some space too, as stifling her would also be bad for her mental wellbeing.

He already discussed all the options, and what’s best for (y/n). Once (y/n) has recovered some more physically, and once she is ready, he would take her home and nurse her back to health. He would appoint someone else as the Duke of Meropide if that was needed to get him more time off. Right now, he has something else to do.

He did not tell her that he would be going back to the facility, specifically the hidden passage they found inside her cell. Chlorinde had done a great job in capturing the man, living up to her title of champion duelist.

The entrance was so well hidden in the room, so much so that they had to get Aether to use his elemental sight to find. They had followed the hidden maze-like pathway in the room (y/n) was kept in, and it had led them to an underground base, perhaps their real base of operations. Several men were captured, including Dougier, they seem to work directly with Arderne who unfortunately was nowhere in sight. They were all taken into custody. Wriothesley tensed as he remembered their findings.

"Wriothesley you might want to see this." He turned his head towards Neuvilette who a moment ago was rummaging through papers on a desk. The Iudex now held out a file towards him, his face grim.

The Duke took the file and opened it. There were more papers, this time it contained more detailed reports of experiments done to the people. He ruffled through the pages, skimming the words for one specific name. He found it.

Experiment Clearance Form

Title: Vision Trial Variation 2

Principal Investigator: Il Dottore

Assistant: Arderne

Subject: 1102 a.k.a. (y/n)

Vision: Pyro

This form acknowledges the approval of the experiment titled "Vision Trial Variation 2" conducted by Arderne. The experiment aims to implement the theory of vision injections on humans, followed by observation to discover the effects.

The experiment poses high risks to participants. Potential risks include memory loss, increased body temperatures, seizures, and the possibility of death. Steps have been taken to mitigate these risks. Subject is physically weakened before the start to lower the chances of the body rejecting the injection, thus increasing the success rate of this experiment. On the occasion that this experiment would fail, the study will move on to Vision Trial Variation 3, and the current subject will be discarded.

Fuck.

“Did we find any traces of Arderne?” Wriothesley’s voice dropped several octaves, Neuvilette knew what this meant.

“There are none so far,” he placed a reassuring hand on Wriothesley, “But we do have Dougier now, and we are taking him and the others to custody. We can get more information out of them-”

Wriothesley shook him off and landed a harsh kick on a table to the side, immediately breaking it. He wanted to murder them all, especially that bastard Dottore. He had heard rumours of him doing crazy experiments, but to think it happened right here in Fontaine, with his fiancee? His breaths were shaky with barely controlled rage.

“Wriothesley, I understand how frustrating this is. (y/n) is also my dear friend.” Neuvilette spoke in the most soothing tone he could muster up. “Trust me, I am just as upset as you are in this, but we have to keep a level head. For (y/n)’s sake and all the victims that were forced into this.”

They were deep underground, had they been up on the surface, they would see heavy rain mixed with snow, and thunderstorms raging outside, the weather mirroring the Iudex’s inner turmoil on the entire situation.

• • •

(y/n) wondered if she was dead or dreaming the moment she saw herself on the familiar bed of her room in the facility. Dr Arderne was standing at the foot of her bed reading through the information on his clipboard, while Dougier was securing her arms and legs with restraints.

She had been too weak to resist, having been starved for days without food, the only nutrition she got was through her IV drip and glasses of suspiciously blue coloured water, which she had no choice but to drink.

"Good morning 1102, ready for the next dose? Arderne readied a syringe. It was filled with shimmery red liquid, the glow seemed to pulse the closer it gets to her.

"F-Fuck you Arderne." (y/n) managed to mumble, making Dougier snicker.

Arderne held (y/n)'s arm and injected the contents of the syringe into her. At first it felt like nothing, but gradually she could feel it start to burn, as if fire was coursing through her veins.

It wasn't long until the burning sensation started to feel unbearable. Hot white pain spreads from the point of injection to all over her body. She bit her tongue, trying not to scream, she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She won't-

(y/n) jolted awake, her breaths heavy and ragged and her heart was pounding in her chest. Fuck.

It was a dream. She was safe. It was just a dream.

The room she was in, despite being a hospital room, it was completely different from the facility, with flowers her friends and fiancé got for her, and the comforting weight of her big blubberbeast plushie that Wriothesley brought from their bed at home. She hugged the plush tightly and pressed her nose to its soft fur. It smelled just like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne all over it, something she often did even before… all this.

(y/n) tried to remember what her therapist had told her. 

My name is (y/n), I am at the Fontaine hospital, guarded by the Spina di Rosula, Wriothesley stays with me during the night, and stops by for lunch. I am safe, and I am recovering.

Her therapist told her that her dreams would eventually go away as her mind heals, but how long will that take?

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was still early, too early for Wriothesley to come back from his investigation. He had left a book with her some days ago, which she picked up and started to read, trying to get her mind off things.

As she reached for the book on her night stand, suddenly (y/n) felt the familiar tingle in her hands, running all the way up her arms. It was warm and welcoming, it felt like home. A split second later, the book she was reaching for suddenly burst into flames.

• • •

Wriothesley watched Neuvilette from behind the one way glass as the latter asked Dougier more and more questions. The Iudex had presented all the evidence they found on the table. Laying it all out for Dougier as he asked question after question that Dougier only gave vague answers to, sometimes only responding with chuckles. The scum was a goner, his mind seemingly corrupted by the facility.

He wanted to be the one who personally interrogates the vile man, but Neuvilette had forbidden him from entering, for fear of what Wriothesley would do to the suspect. Still, watching from behind the glass was frustrating, he wished Neuvilette would let them do interrogations in Meropide, where it was outside Fontaine’s jurisdiction, so they could use other means to get information.

“This is going nowhere,” Wriothesley mumbled and pushed open the door leading into the interrogation room. Fuck the consequences, he’ll probably just get an earful from Neuvilette later.

At the sight of Wriothesley, Dougier’s eyes lit up in a nasty way that the Duke did not like at all. “Ah your Grace, here to play the bad cop now?”

“Seeing how you’re going nowhere with Neuvilette, I might as well do.”

Wriothesley grabbed the chair at the corner of the room and dragged it over to sit beside Neuvilette, who was glancing at Wriothesley cautiously.

“So do you feel like talking now Dougier? I thought you were a changed man after you were released.”

Dougier only scoffed, “then I had you fooled. You have no idea what kind of grudge I hold against you, Wriothesley. You ruined the community I built in Meropide.”

“Community? You call that community? You basically started a cult, and no one liked being in there.” Wriothesley scowled.

“Nevertheless,” Dougier continued, “I had my revenge. You should have heard how much (y/n) screamed when Arderne injected her vision into her.”

Wriothesley froze. He knew about what happened but hearing it from Dougier was different from reading it on the files they found.

Dougier, seeing the change in Wriothesley’s demeanour, continued. “She was a brave one, that bitch. Endured hours upon hours of our treatment, sometimes without anaesthesia. And that was after we put her in solitary confinement. We were wrong thinking we broke her spirit already, and yet she’s still fighting.”

"And you did this to all the people in the Vision Trials?" Neuvilette asked, the pen in his hand moving to take notes.

Dougier ignored him, his eyes still glued on Wriothesley's.

"How can we reverse the vision injections?" Wriothesley asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. He knew he couldn't try anything with Neuvilette around.

"You'll have to ask Arderne for that," Dougier leaned back on his chair, "but all I know is while (y/n) is still alive, she's a failure. She had her vision inside her yet it never seemed to work, not even when we prompted her."

"What do you mean prompted her?" Neuvilette asked, and this time, Dougier turned his eyes to him..

"Oh we threatened her, and when it didn't work, beat her, did whatever to make her call on her pyro element and use the vision in her. That never seemed to work."

Wriothesley and Neuvilette were tense, the former had his fists clenched so hard.

"That was when I took her to the basement, the cold weather should prompt the vision to at least keep her warm." Dougier turned to Wriothesley, a deranged look danced in his eyes as he smiled at him.

"I can see why you like 1102. She was so brave. She never once begged or called out for you even with all the beatings, that is, until I put my cock inside her-”

Suddenly Dougier was on the ground. Wriothesley had moved so fast Neuvilette barely registered him vaulting over the table and landing a fist on Dougier's face. He managed to hammer down his fists onto Dougier some more before he felt multiple hands pull him backwards off Dougier, who was unconscious in a bloodied mess.

"GET OFF ME." He yelled at the gardemeks who held him back, but Neuvilette soon stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Dougier who was being tended to by medics.

"Wriothesley," his voice was stern, "the punching can wait until after his sentence. If he is sentenced back to Meropide then it is under your jurisdiction."

Wriothesley was breathing heavily, "he… he also… Archons, (y/n)..."

"I already let you land several hits on him" Neuvilette placed a hand on his shoulder, "but we need him alive for more information on the case, and for his trials."

Wriothesley watched, seething with rage as Dougier was taken away by the medics for further treatment. He wanted the scum to suffer as much as, if not more than (y/n). How could anyone do this to her?

Neuvilette sighed and motioned for the gardemeks to release Wriothesley, "I think it's best if you go visit (y/n) for now. I think you two need to talk."

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(;;;*_*)--c<ノ°益°)ノ _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

A/N

…now I'm sad... why do I do this to myself :") wrote this while hugging my blåhaj because I needed that warm shorky embrace.

(Tuna says hi :D and hopes everyone is okay after reading this)

I apologize for the late update, some parts of the chapter had to be rewritten to make more sense, but in the end it became longer than I planned (and I had to cut it here and continue next chapter)

Thanks for sticking around this long, I hope the update hurt you all as much as it did for me to write :"))) please stay safe and take care, and hug your pets/plushies for me 💕

P.s. I’m not sure how to write a proper experiment clearance form TwT I hope that wasn’t too off.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person

[fallingfor-fics]

Greed- Agatha Harkness x Reader

Im so excited for HOH!! here is a short angsty one inspired by a song, you get a virtual kiss if you guess it.

Warnings: none, angst

Word Count: 1k

Summary: You arent gonns stick around while Agatha fights Wanda.

“I don't think you are hearing what I am saying.” Agatha let out in a huff, shaking her head and looking away. You weren’t getting anywhere in this conversation and you were ready to just give up. 

“Fine. If you want to keep fucking with this town, and her be my guest but im getting the fuck out of here. I'm not going to sit and beg you any longer.” You scoffed and stood up from the couch, heading upstairs to collect your things.

“Y/n wait.” Agatha yelled after, following you up the stairs, but you didn't respond and just reached for your luggage. “I don't have a choice. I have to stop her.” she said with her voice slightly strained.

“But you aren't trying to stop her, Agatha!” You snapped, raising your voice slightly as you turned to look at her, “you are trying to take her power for yourself.” you shook your head and her brows furrowed as her upper lip twitched.

“What? I don't-'' she started but she quickly read your expression and sighed, “she wont know how to handle that power, but I do know how, i'm the only person that can do this.” You knew how powerful Agatha was, but you always believed you were somewhat equals, she was only a few hundred years older than you, but you had mastered your craft. 

You looked at her with displeasure and she sighed. “I didn't mean it like that Y/n.”

“I'm going. Find me if you make it out of this.” You sighed, turning to use a spell to finish your packing.

“Baby please just trust me.” Agatha came to stand closer, her hands resting on your waist, she turned you to face her, and she rested her forehead on yours. You closed your eyes and sighed, a knot forming in your throat. 

“I love you Agatha…but I have worked too hard and gone through too much shit, to die this way.” you stated and moved away from her to grab some other items. 

“God, Y/n I need you to fucking listen to me for once. It will be fine, no one will die, it won't change anything. I need you here by my side.” she begged and you could tell she was being genuine. However you knew she was wrong, things would be so different. 

“And I need you to learn to get over yourself” you let out softly but with a firm tone as you turned to look at her. She scoffed and crossed her arms, shaking her head as she looked at you, “You are obsessed with Wanda. You are upset that she was chosen to be the scarlet witch, and now you want the power for yourself. Because God forbid there be someone who is more powerful than you. Well news flash, there is a whole league of them nowadays. So quit trying to be someone you're not.” You finished, your face red and your lungs out of breath from your tangent. Agatha let out a cackle before stepping closer to you. 

“I could take out any one of those unitard-wearing, lab rat, mother fuckers, Y/n. Just like I can take out Wanda. Just like I could take out.. You.” she said with a harsh tone, her words started to come out fast and by the end of her response she had started to get more angry. Her words were fighting to get out as she clenched her fist and pointed a finger at you. Your jaw dropped slightly and you scoffed. 

“You know what Agatha, you better hope Wanda kills you. ‘Cause if you survive, and you let this power consume you, which we know you will, I will come and kill you myself just to prove you wrong.” You looked at her with cold eyes as the venomous words left your lips. You stepped back in realization of what you had said. Shock filled your veins but you were more alarmed by the fact you really meant what you had just said. Agatha just looked at you. You observed her face so hard, the face you had memorized, the face you had seen everyday for so many years. No matter how long you looked or how hard you searched for signs, you couldn't read her expression, you couldn't read her. 

After a few moments you felt your cheeks burn and a knot form in your throat. Agatha stood still, her eyes not leaving yours as she sat pondering, trying to decide what to do, what to say to convince you to stay. She didn't care that you had just said what you had said. She wasn't surprised by these reactions. What surprised her was the level of stubbornness you were showing. Agatha loved you for many reasons, but one of them was loving you for how much you loved her. She had you around her finger and she loved it because you loved it too. She loved being demanding and you loved obeying. People always wanted stuff from her and would never give back, but you, there wasn't anything you wouldn't do for her. 

Except this. 

“Y/n, Please. I need you to just try to understand, are you really going to throw our whole life away because I want something?” She stopped, getting closer to you and cupping your face, you instinctively relaxed your face into her hands. She pulled you in for a kiss and you didnt fight it. She kissed softly, her smooth lips moving against yours as you kissed back, unable to resist her. There was a soft and pure love in that kiss and when you realized you pulled away softly, looking down with a frown, her hands still on your cheeks. She shook her head with a laugh. 

“I mean everyone has something they want, baby.” she quipped as her voice grew louder. You felt tears finally fill your eyes and you let out a shaky sigh, looking at her with sad eyes as you backed away from her grasp. 

Choking through your dry throat you spoke softly as you looked at her with love and pity. “I just wanted you, Agatha.” Yousaid simply and turned to head downstairs, collecting your things and loading them into your car. You left before she could say another word, and watched your rearview as you drove away, waiting to see her but all you saw was the empty road.

--

slay that was fun to write

someone should take this idea and make a full fic for it and credit and tag me bc this plot would destroy me

[suitkive]

✩ just swinging by — k.yh

pairing. yoohyeon (dreamcatcher) x fem reader

summary. ever since the mysterious web-swinging spider-woman first collapsed on your balcony by accident after a long night out fighting crime, she keeps coming back around with thank-you gifts and excuses to see you—and you slowly start to find yourself falling for the clumsy, kindhearted girl behind the mask.

info. college au, yoohyeon as spider-woman

warnings. swearing, blood/injury

word count. 4.6k (oops)

(a/n) insp. this moodboard i made a while ago :D

of all the things you were expecting to happen to you on a typical sunday night, the sudden appearance of a masked vigilante at your balcony was most certainly not one of them.

alright, rewind a bit. a CRASH jolts you awake in the middle of the night—though really it's morning, according to the glowing red digits on your alarm clock that read 3:49 AM—and you nearly fall out of your bed because that was loud, what the hell?

nerves running high and any remnants of sleep completely shaken out of your body, you get out of bed and slowly open your bedroom door only to be met with a blast of frigid night air. you blink a few times, just to make sure you're not seeing things.

"what the fuck," you say out loud.

your balcony door is gone.

no, wait—it's broken. shards of glass are everywhere, and there's a giant gaping hole where the sliding door used to be. and lying crumpled in a heap on the floor in front of it…

you fumble for the light switch, something you probably should've done as soon as you opened the door. the sight that greets you when the light turns on makes you wonder if you're still dreaming, because this can't actually be happening.

there is a superhero on your balcony.

and she's bleeding all over your carpet.

"oh my god—" you hurriedly rush over to get a better look. red-and-blue spandex that's torn in several places, a trail of spiderwebs clinging to her wrists, a large spider symbol printed on the front and back of her suit… it's spider-woman. spider-woman just crashed through your balcony door.

and she's bleeding. on your carpet.

"okay," you mumble, trying to think. at least the fresh night air coming from the massive hole in your balcony door does well to invigorate you. "okay, okay, i need to do something… oh god, my landlord is gonna be so pissed at me—"

the body on the floor lets out a weak groan, and you quickly kneel down next to her. "hello? are—are you okay?"

with great difficulty, the girl struggles to lift up her head. her mask obscures the entirety of her face, so you have a hard time telling whether or not she's fully conscious.

"…ow," she croaks out at last, and then her head falls back to the floor with a thunk. seconds later, her chest begins to slowly rise and fall. a soft snoring sound emits from her mask.

you take a deep breath. okay. you can deal with this.

so here you are almost three hours later, nursing a cup of much-needed coffee as you stare contemplatively at the now-bandaged but still-snoring superhero laid out on the couch in front of you. you had done your best to clean and treat her wounds with your limited medical knowledge (and the suspiciously well-stocked first aid kit that your weird roommate handong keeps in the cupboard), so now you're just waiting for her to wake up. which is taking way too long.

the clock on the coffee table reads 6:15 AM, and you glumly swish around the cold dregs of your morning coffee. it's almost time for you to leave for your 6:30 chemistry class, but it looks like spider-woman is still completely out of it.

after pacing around the kitchen of your tiny apartment for five more minutes, you impulsively grab a post-it note and scribble down a message for spider-woman to see when she wakes up. thankfully your roommate is literally never home, so there's no chance of anyone coming in here and discovering the superhero conked out on your couch.

you sign your name at the bottom of the note and stick it to spider-woman's forehead, hoping she'll be alright. as for your balcony door… thinking about how much it's going to cost to install a new one gives you a headache, so you just stick a large sheet of cardboard over the opening and resolve to take care of it as soon as you get home.

"this has been a very, very weird morning," you say out loud, because nothing about this feels real.

(then again, the tedious hours you spent cleaning up bits of glass from the floor and picking the webs off of spider-woman's suit definitely felt pretty real.)

you throw one last glance at the sleeping heap on your couch before you leave, only hoping that your life will get back to normal after today.

yoohyeon wakes up disoriented, aching all over, and with the horrifying realization that she has most definitely slept past all five of her monday morning alarms.

she blinks sleepily, slowly processing her surroundings. she's lying on a couch, someone has bandaged her wounds and swaddled her in blankets, yubin probably, she's an angel and the best guy in the chair yoohyeon could ever ask for and… whoa, wait a minute.

this isn't her apartment.

with that horrifying realization, yoohyeon sits straight up and whips her head around in a panic. her surroundings are entirely unfamiliar, and she's about to call yubin before remembering that yubin is unreachable right now—away on some sort of top-secret mission that's supposed to last, like, three months. yoohyeon groans. why am i actually the worst superhero ever?

then she realizes that there's something stuck to her forehead and reaches up to find a neon green sticky note with some writing on it, which she slowly reads through with a good deal of trepidation.

hey, you crashed into my apartment last night—you were unconscious but i didn't see your face, don't worry! i fixed up your injuries as best i could but now i need to leave for class, so i hope you'll be okay when you wake up. just remember to put the cardboard back over the balcony door so birds won't fly in or anything :)

phew. so yoohyeon's secret identity hasn't been leaked, that's a relief… but she essentially broke into an innocent civilian's apartment, which she doesn't exactly feel great about. i need to make this right.

"oh, wait—" yoohyeon realizes something and jumps to her feet, the blankets falling around her. "shit, i'm late for class!"

you're dutifully taking notes as the professor drones on about chemical equations, though you're struggling to stay focused—seriously, who decided that 6:30am classes on a monday was a good idea?—when suddenly the doors to the lecture hall burst open and a girl runs in, flushed and panting heavily.

"i am so sorry," she wheezes, bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. "i overslept…"

the professor sighs and waves off her apology. "don't let it happen again," he says sternly, then continues his lecture.

you cast the girl a curious glance as she shuffles shamefully to an empty seat and starts unpacking her things. she's tall and lanky, with long two-toned hair tied in a haphazard ponytail and glasses that she has to push back up when they start to slip down her face. you make eye contact for a brief moment, then you resume paying attention to the professor without giving the encounter too much thought.

after classes end, you go back to your apartment to find the place superhero-less. the blankets are folded messily on the couch and there's a small tear in the cardboard that's covering the opening in your balcony, as if someone was in a hurry to leave.

you shrug off your bags with a sigh and go to dial up your landlord.

almost a week passes without further incident. you get your balcony door replaced so it's like nothing ever happened, and your life is just starting to get back into the usual swing of things when spider-woman shows up at your balcony again.

a thump is what wakes you up prematurely this time—it's literally 5am which is way too early for a saturday morning of all days—and you groggily stumble out of your bedroom, fearing the worst. you know it can't be a burglar since you live on the seventh floor, so there's only one person it could be…

luckily, the glass door is fully intact when you pull back the curtains to check. however, there is currently a superhero lying curled in a ball on your balcony. a very familiar superhero wearing a red-and-blue suit with a spider symbol on it.

"oh… oh, no," groans spider-woman when she hears you slide open the door. she weakly tries to drag herself to her feet, but she slumps back to the ground and you notice, with concern, the bleeding scratches all over her body. "oh man, i did it again… i'm so sorry, i'm gonna leave, just… wow you're so pretty… sorry, i should really leave—"

"no, it's okay!" you rush to reassure her, kneeling down next to her and offering your hand. "you can't go back out there like that, let me help you."

she winces, though whether it's from pain or embarrassment you can't tell. "i am so sorry," she repeats, and something about her voice seems oddly familiar, but you're too preoccupied with getting her inside to dwell on that.

the superhero keeps rambling as you half-drag, half-carry her to the couch. "i didn't mean to come here again, it's just i usually go to my friend's place when i'm injured but she's away and i got lost and mistook your apartment for mine the last time and i'm really sorry about breaking your door, it was just so dark and i had a really long day and i wasn't thinking straight and i probably gave you so much trouble—ow!"

"sorry!" you flinch and let go of her. "is your arm okay? what happened?"

"i… um." spider-woman chuckles nervously. "i kind of swung into a building? i didn't break any windows or anything! i might've broken my arm though."

you can't help but laugh, finding her awkward manner strangely endearing. "let me take a look, it might be dislocated or something."

it turns out it's just bruised, so you get her some ice and busy yourself fixing up her injuries. she repeatedly tries to convince you that she can do it herself in between a steady stream of more apologies, but she looks like she's one step away from passing out, so you insist on helping her.

"how'd you get all these cuts and scratches, anyway?" you ask, opening the bottle of antiseptic and setting out some gauze. "if you don't mind me asking, that is."

"no, it's fine! um…" spider-woman tilts her head, as if trying to remember. "the ones on my ribs are from some muggers with knives, kids really but there were four of them and only one of me so yeah… and the ones on my arms are from the black cat, you know, my nemesis? she was robbing a jewelry store and i managed to stop her but she still escaped and also got me a few times with her claws… oh, and there's this cut on my forehead that i got when i accidentally tripped and hit my head on a wall corner a few hours ago… but i can fix that on my own! you know, cause i'd have to take the mask off for that, and like, i can't reveal my secret identity 'cause dami—that's my guy in the chair—dami would kill me, haha…"

by the time she's done talking, you've finished cleaning and wrapping all of her wounds. there's just the cut on her forehead that's left, which is still bleeding despite her flippant assurances that it doesn't even hurt.

"that looks pretty bad," you note, kneeling down beside the couch and leaning in closer to inspect it. you gently press a paper towel to the bleeding area, using your other hand to brush a stray drop of blood from her cheek. "are you able to swing like that?"

there's a beat of silence. you realize that spider-woman has gone perfectly still, and also that your faces are extremely close together.

"sorry—" you shift away apologetically, worried that you made her uncomfortable. "you probably don't like it when people touch your suit."

"it's okay!" spider-woman's voice comes out as a strangled squawk, and she quickly coughs to clear her throat. "um. i was just. surprised."

"oh… well then." you stand up and glance awkwardly around your apartment, at a loss for what to do next. "so uh… how are you feeling?"

she springs up from the couch, startling you. "a lot better, thank you so much! i've caused you way too much trouble so… i should probably get going now, huh."

"are you okay to swing with your injuries and all?" you ask as she half-walks, half-slides to the balcony in this self-consciously exaggerated way. "they looked really painful when you arrived here."

"this is nothing," she responds with a casual wave of her hand, hoisting herself up onto the balcony railing in a quick graceful movement. "i heal pretty fast, so they barely even hurt anymore."

"that's good, then." you lean against the doorframe, somewhat saddened to see her go. strangely enough, you've actually been enjoying her company despite the fact that she quite literally crashed into your apartment and woke you up in the middle of the night.

spider-woman clears her throat. "uhh—maybe i'll see you around sometime," she says, a hopeful lilt to her voice.

the sun is starting to rise, peeking over the tops of the city skyline and bathing your apartment in soft golden light. spider-woman tilts her head at you, and you're almost completely certain that she's smiling under her mask.

"yeah," you respond, smiling back and raising a hand to shade your face from the sun. "i'll see you around sometime, superhero."

spider-woman gives you a jaunty little two-fingered salute, and then she's launching herself backwards off the railing with a carefree whoop. she disappears from your view for a few heart-stopping moments, but then a web shoots up and she's swinging away in between the skyscrapers until she's out of sight.

the next day, you open the curtains to find a small bouquet of red and blue flowers sitting on your balcony. they look wind-blown and slightly frayed, and the thought of a certain superhero swinging through the city with the little pot tucked carefully under her arm makes you grin despite yourself.

you get the feeling you won't be seeing the last of her any time soon.

"um, is it okay if i sit here?"

you glance up from the chemical equations on your laptop screen, meeting the eyes of a tall girl who's fidgeting nervously with the ends of her long hair. vaguely, you recognize her as that clumsy student who ran into class late last week.

"oh, sure," you say after a confused beat, shifting over slightly to make more room for her. something about her voice rings a bell, but you're not sure why it sounds so familiar. i've probably just heard her talking to her friends before, you rationalize.

"thanks!" she sits down and starts taking out her stuff, smiling hesitantly at you. "i'm kim yoohyeon, it's nice to meet you."

she has a pretty smile, you note while you introduce yourself. "it's nice to meet you too."

yoohyeon seems shy around you and doesn't talk much, but there's something captivating about her that you can't quite figure out exactly. she pays close attention to the professor during the lecture, though occasionally you'll look over to catch her stealing glances at you—she always blushes and quickly looks away, piquing your curiosity. hmmm.

after an extremely long and boring hour, the class is over and everyone starts packing up and filtering out of the lecture hall. you're packing up as well when your arm brushes against yoohyeon's by accident, and her cheeks flush bright red as she stares at you wide-eyed.

"i—" yoohyeon clears her throat. "bye!" she squeaks, and then she's shooting out the doors before you can even open your mouth to reply.

huh, how strange.

you're studying at your kitchen table one afternoon, curtains open to let some sun into your apartment, when you hear a tap-tap-tap on your balcony door and look up to see spider-woman crouched outside.

"i hope this isn't creepy," she rushes to say as soon as you slide open the door. "i was just, er, in the area and i thought i'd swing by and say hello… um, i brought you a croissant! as thanks for, y'know, everything."

"wow, thank you," you say in surprise, taking the paper bakery bag that she's hopefully holding out to you. the chocolate croissant inside is a little flattened, but you're warmed by the gesture regardless.

"no problem!" spider-woman jumps back up onto the balcony railing, sitting and swinging her legs like a little kid. "so, uh, yeah. just wanted to do that. i hope it wasn't weird. was it weird?"

you can't help but laugh. "you're cute," you say sincerely, the words slipping out against your will—flustered, you quickly change the subject before she can notice. "um, i'm not really busy right now so… you can come in and hang out for a bit, if you want."

"really?" she tentatively slides off the railing and trots inside after you like a lost puppy. "i feel bad for intruding—ooh, were you doing homework?"

"yeah, just studying for a test," you respond, sitting down and gesturing for her to pull out a chair as well. "do you know anything about chemistry?"

"i love it!" she exclaims, perking up and scooting closer to get a better look at your notes. "i first made my web fluid in my high school chemistry lab actually, it was… well, it was a learning experience. what are you studying?"

"acid-base reactions, most of it went over my head when my professor was lecturing about it…"

before you know it, two hours have gone by in a flash. spider-woman just has this bright and likable aura around her, and as she chatters about chemistry with infectious enthusiasm and tells you funny stories about her experiences as the city's resident superhero, you find that you already feel even more at ease with her than you are with your own roommate.

"we should do this again soon," you tell her when she has to leave, standing on your balcony surrounded by the bustling sounds of the city. "and be careful, alright? don't go swinging into any more buildings."

"i promise!" she assures you with a laugh, giving you a cheerful wave before she jumps from your balcony and swings off.

after that, spider-woman starts swinging by to see you a lot more often. you can tell she still feels guilty about accidentally breaking into your apartment, because she always comes with gifts of flowers or random pastries from the bakery down the street.

"you really don't need to go to all this trouble for me," you tell her, amused, when she presents you with an entire cake.

"it's no trouble at all!" she insists cheerfully, then gasps. "unless you don't like it. do you not like it?"

"no! i really appreciate it, i promise. it's just, you don't have to get me stuff if you don't want to."

"i want to!"

it's after a few weeks of the dorky superhero swinging by your apartment that you begin to realize you might be developing a bit of a crush on her. which is ridiculous, really, considering you have no idea what she looks like under the mask and you don't know her real name either. you don't know anything about her.

but you do know her, in a way. you know that she likes to pretend she's this cool badass superhero when in reality she's just a science nerd who gets excited about mixing chemicals. you know that she loves rescuing kittens from trees even though she's scared of cats, just because it's worth it to see the relief on its owner's face. you know that she sometimes swings by elementary schools during recess because a wave or a thumbs-up from spider-woman always makes the kids' entire day. you know that she's smart, she's kind, she's clumsy, she loves helping people more than anything.

you know her well enough for your heart to flutter every time you hear her tap on your balcony door, no matter the time or reason. she usually comes by during the day now, just to bring you gifts and hang out, but every once in a while she'll still crash on your balcony in the middle of the night with injuries from fighting crime.

this is one of those nights, apparently. a forceful knock on your front door is what wakes you up at 11pm one sunday night, and you groan as you're violently dragged out of your peaceful sleep.

"coming," you mumble half to yourself, throwing a random hoodie over your pajamas and hauling yourself to the door. "i have class tomorrow, who even—"

it's spider-woman, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "hi," she croaks. the knocking must have tired her out, because she topples into your arms as soon as you open the door.

"what…" you blink groggily for a few seconds, slowly processing the girl draped all over you. your half-asleep brain notes that she's very warm. it's like a nice blanket.

then you realize that your apartment door is still wide open, and the city's most famous superhero is just standing right there in the hall where anyone could see. "what are you doing here?" you yelp, pulling her inside and hurrying to close the door. "you're in your suit and everything! did anyone see you come up?"

"dunno," she mumbles, tucking her face into the crook of your neck. "i hit my head really hard. didn't think swinging was a good idea…"

you maneuver the superhero onto your couch, and she whines when you pull away to go get the medical kit. "hurts."

"looks like there isn't any bleeding," you say, kneeling down next to the couch and examining her head. "do you think it might be a concussion?"

"probably," she rasps, squishing herself further into the couch and looking like a burrito with the blanket you put over her. "should heal in a few hours."

you furrow your brow, still not used to what she calls her spidey-healing. "okay, get some sleep. you can stay here as long as you want, alright?"

"gotta wake up early," she says drowsily. "chemistry lab tomorrow…"

you blink. you… also have a chemistry lab tomorrow. "is that so?"

"yeah." you think her eyes are closed behind her mask, but then she shifts her head slightly and giggles softly to herself. "you're sooo pretty… i was so scared to talk to you in class."

wait, what?

spider-woman keeps rambling as she drifts off to sleep. "wanted to ask you out… but i was too shy without the mask. ran away, so embarrassing…"

wait, what?

"you're really cool," she mumbles. "and nice… and pretty… i like you a lot… want to take care of you like… like you take care of me…"

a pause. "you should go out with me," she says, then falls silent. tiny snores start coming out of her mask.

you slowly stand up, head spinning with all these new revelations.

huh.

you decide to go back to sleep.

it's around three in the morning when you wake up again to the sounds of someone shuffling around in the living room. you reluctantly slide out of your nice warm bed, slipping a hoodie on and heading out of your bedroom to find the source of the commotion.

"sorry, did i wake you?" spider-woman hovers uncertainly by the open door, dressed in civilian clothes—a hoodie and sweatpants—though she still has her spider-woman mask on, which looks so ridiculous that you have to smile at the sight.

"yeah… you're leaving already?" you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"yep," she says, awkwardly shifting her bundled-up superhero suit from hand to hand. "um. you should go back to bed, i know you have an early class tomorrow…" and so do i, she thinks to herself ruefully.

"let me see you off first," you insist through another yawn, covering your mouth with one oversized hoodie sleeve. "be careful on your way down, okay?"

"i will," she mumbles shyly. you can't see it, but she's blushing so hard at the gentleness in your voice and the soft way you're looking at her that she's scared her mask might burn right off her face. i've got to leave before i do anything stupid, she thinks, embarrassed. why is she so nice… and pretty…

the superhero is halfway down the hall when you remember all of last night's events and suddenly get an idea.

"yoohyeon," you call out, leaning against your doorframe.

she stops and turns around. "yeah?"

a pause.

you see the exact moment she realizes. "i—oh fuck—i mean, um—" she flounders, wildly looking around and laughing nervously. "wh-who's yoohyeon? i'm just your friendly neighbourhood spider-kim—i mean—"

you smile teasingly. "next time you ask me on a date, do it when you're not suffering from a concussion."

you don't know what her facial expression is like under her mask, but spider-woman—yoohyeon—looks like she's about to pass out, if the way she's clutching her suit in a death grip is any indication.

your smile softens. "i like you too, just so you know. a lot." you step back inside your apartment, but then you poke your head out again (yoohyeon is still standing there, frozen in shock) and add, "come back and ask me again tomorrow, okay? properly."

you close the door and take a deep breath. you feel as if your heart had stopped beating momentarily, but now it resumes racing excitedly in your chest.

hopefully i didn't just make a huge mistake.

meanwhile, yoohyeon is practically having heart palpitations outside. she spends a while just gaping like a fish at your closed door, but then she comes to her senses and practically breaks her neck sprinting to the elevator.

oh god, i need to look nice tomorrow!

the next morning, you're sitting at the kitchen table doing some studying before class when you hear the distinct noise of feet landing lightly on your balcony outside. there's the sounds of someone pacing for a while. then a light knock sounds on the glass door, making you turn around.

it's yoohyeon. not spider-woman, but kim yoohyeon from your 6:30am chemistry class. she's wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater, her long hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders and her dark brown eyes bravely staring into yours. in her hands is a small bouquet of red-and-blue flowers.

"did you swing up here?" you ask incredulously, tearing your eyes away from her and looking around. the sun is starting to rise, painting the sky in a soft rosy hue that matches the blush on yoohyeon's face. "did—"

"wait—please don't say anything," she interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "before i chicken out."

she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, meeting your gaze. "hi, i'm kim yoohyeon. um, i'm also spider-woman, and i… i'd really like to take you out on a date sometime."

she smiles hopefully at you. you step closer to her, taking the bouquet from her hands and leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek. yoohyeon's blush intensifies, and your heart soars.

"it's nice to meet you, kim yoohyeon," you tell her, matching her smile. "and i'd love to go out with you."

[mkmas]

Jude Jazza Fever Event Story Translation

*This story belongs to cybird

* I wasn’t sure how to interpret some sentences to english so it might not be smooth

* ⚠️ this story is suggestive

It was this morning when Roger asked me to take care of Jude who caught a cold.

I don’t think Jude will obediently agree to be nursed. I’m sure he’ll turn me away.

But I heard he used to have weak bronchial tubes, and I was asked to do it anyway.

Somehow I managed to rouse myself from my reluctance and came to the infirmary.

Kate: Jude, how are you feeling?

Jude: Ha it’s you. Did you come to make fun of me?

Jude was resting on the infirmary bed with sweat on his forehead.

His voice is thin and weak, he does not have his usual high spirits

Kate: I’m here to take care of Jude.

Jude: Ha what a waste. I’m sure that quack doctor made you do it.

Kate: I won’t deny that I was asked to do it but.. Wouldn’t it be nice to believe in someone’s kindness?

Jude: What are you saying to a businessman/merchant? If you can’t see it then it’s basically nothing.

……I knew he’d react like this.

Even though his body is weak from his cold, his cruelty remains unchanged.

Kate: Anyway… I won’t give up in taking care of Jude, so just accept it quietly.

Kate: Even if you tell me not to get involved or that I’m annoying… I would be sad if something happened to Jude.

Jude:……

Jude:……. Fine. If you’re satisfied with what you’re doing, you can do whatever you want, even if it’s nursing.

Kate: Eh? You won’t mind if I take care of you?

I was surprised at how easily I was accepted, I expected him to reject me coldly.

Jude: Hah... What’s with that stupid face? Did you expect to get rejected?

Kate: ….. Well it’s Jude after all.

Jude: You’re so persistent, even if I kick your ass you’ll stick around.

Jude: Well it’s a pain to deal with each person like that. Just do what you have to do and quickly go home.

Kate: I understand.

Jude: What kind of nursing are you going to give me?

Kate: Then, I will unbutton your shirt to wipe off your sweat first.

Jude: Yes, yes….

I put my hand on Jude’s button, which he accepts quietly.

However-

I can’t take off people’s buttons well…!

Jude: What’s wrong?

Kate: I-I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right away.

Jude: Do you need a role model to take you off your clothes?

Jude’s hand reaches out to unbutton my clothes with skillful hands.

Kate: Hey, wait a minute….

Jude: I’ll show you how it’s done until you can get me out of my clothes.

Jude: Let’s hope you can take it off, while you still have something to wear, hm?

Kate:….ugh.

After being cornered, I was fast. I managed to unbutton Jude’s shirt.

Kate: Done… Anyway, Jude why didn’t you take it off yourself?

Jude: You wanted to take it off first.

Kate:Hey, don’t say it in a misleading way…!

After adjusting my own disordered clothes, I wiped Jude’s chest and neck with a hot towel.

Meanwhile, Jude let me wipe his body like he was a cat.

He can’t even complain, I guess I’m lucky.

Jude: Ha…., Hah….

Jude’s occasional sighs and groans, which doesn’t even sound like a groan was seductive.

Every time my ears picked up the sound, a shiver ran down my spine.

(…. What am I thinking? Jude is in pain….)

The way Jude was frowning and breathing out shallowly, was extremely provocative. (T/N: FOCUS GIRLL)

When I could see the outline of his body through the towel, I tried my best to look away. I felt embarrassed.

Kaye: …. It’s finished.

I moved away from the bed, to shake off my thoughts.

Jude: Hah… Thanks for the naughty nursing.

Kate: It was normal!

He was given both food and medicine, so now I feel relieved….

I only took care of him for awhile, but I’m tired…

Jude won’t be able to rest well if I’m here anyway, so let’s call it a day.

Kate: Well, I’ll be going now. If you need anything, ring the bell.

Jude: Can you get me some water before you go? My throat…

Jude:…. Ugh.

Suddenly, Jude started coughing badly.

He bends his back as if in pain, and his cough showed no signs of stopping.

He wants water, maybe if it moistens his throat it’ll go away….?

I don’t know…. Even if I give him a cup, it’ll spill before he can get it into his mouth.

I hurriedly took a mouthful of water and-

Jude: O.O

I gave Jude the mouthful of water with my mouth.

After confirming he has swallowed, I released my lips.

Kate: That’s good… The coughing stopped…

Jude: What’s good about that…. You idiot, you’ll catch my cold.

Jude: Why else do you think I let you nurse me obediently?

Kate: Eh….?

Come to think of it, it was only when I got close that Jude didn’t talk much….

The reason he obediently allowed me to take care of him was so that I could go home early……….?

I realized now that he was considerate of not spreading his cold to me.

Kate: I’m sorry I didn’t know. But I wanted to help Jude.

Jude: Tch… That kinda thing really pisses me off.

Jude’s hand presses the back of my head, and our lips which were once separated, met again.

Kate:…. Hnnn!

The hot tongue that had broken into my lips greedily entwined my tongue and sucked it tight.

Kate: ……Fu, Nnn…….

As if to stop my resistance, the kisses were deep and rough, enough to feel a slight pain.

Kate: Hah…. Hah….. Hah…… Hey, what are you doing?

Finally released and out of breath, I glared at Jude.

Jude: Punishment for carelessness of other people’s consideration.

Jude spat out the words in a frustrated way.

What he said was true and I couldn’t think of anything to say back, so I left the infirmary like I was running away.

——————-

Kate:………..Ugh

Once it starts, a cough that doesn’t go away often results in a sore throat.

A few days after nursing Jude, I was in bed with a cold.

Jude: Yes you look good. You deserve it.

Kate: Jude!? Why are you here……

Kate: Could it be…. You came to visit me?

Jude: I’m not here to visit, I came to nurse you.

Kate: Nursing…..?

Jude: I don’t like leaving debts unpaid.

Jude sits on a stool in the room and twirls the skin of an apple with a knife beginning to peel it.

As I gazed at the beautiful curls of the skin, I thought about the time I had nursed him.

Jude’s right, I deserved it.

But I couldn’t leave Jude alone when he was suffering.

I guess this is a “beautiful thing” in Jude’s opinion. But still, some things can’t be twisted.

….If I say it in front of Jude, will I be punished again?

A kiss so violent it almost took me away without a trace.

I gently touched my lips with my fingers, feeling the heat of his tongue still lingering.

Jude: Sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm not going to nurse you in the way you did.

Kate:…… I don’t have such expectations.

Jude: Heehhh.

Jude laughs, looking unconvinced by my reply.

I guess I’m gonna get some nasty nursing. I don’t mind it… because of the heat I shared with him.

End

(T/N: A couple that shares diseases together stays together🫶 (jk). I loved how they showed how considerate Jude is… Also Kate got to see him shirtless and we don’t that’s unfair hm. One important point is that Jude can still skillfully unbutton someone’s shirt even when he’s sick 👀)

[geddy-leesbian]

Leon starts softly crying when he wakes up alone. Of course it wasn't real. Of course it was all just a dream. Of course Luis didn't really charge back into his life like a knight in shining armor, enthusiastically volunteering to fix almost every single problem in Leon's life. It was too good to be true. Leon cries harder when he turns his head to face the nightstand and sees a wad of cash. He didn't dream it. Luis really did drop everything to rush to Leon after he called and made promises, and then he left. Leon feels so cheap and used. Luis came over, had sex with Leon, then put cash on the nightstand and left. He feels like a whore.

All those things he said about raising it as his own child, financially supporting Leon through the rest of the pregnancy, signing the birth certificate without a paternity test, they were all just hot air. Luis probably realized it was stupid to stick around for a worthless slut like Leon and raise a kid that may or may not be his. He left some cash so he could wash his hands of everything without feeling too guilty, but it's a one time thing. Leon won't be getting ongoing financial help, he won't have a co-parent, he's never seeing Luis again. Leon closes his eyes and decides he'll treat himself to a couple minutes of sobbing and wailing instead of just trying to bottle his emotions up like usual. “Shit, shit, mi amor, what's wrong? You need me to call 911? Drive you to hospital?” “Luis?” Leon opens his eyes to see a very nervous looking, shirtless Luis looking down at him. “You're here? What?” Luis looks even more concerned by Leon's questions. “Can I touch you?” Leon nods and Luis feels his forehead and cheek with his hand, then touches his wrist. Finally his hand makes its way to Leon's back and rubs circles on it, and holds Leon's hand gently with his other hand. “I'm here because last night you called me and told me you wanted to see me, and you also told me that you're pregnant, and I promised to take care of you, does any of that ring a bell?” “No, no, I remember everything. Nothing's physically wrong, you can calm down,” Leon eventually manages to say between sobs. “Just confused. Where were you? You weren't in bed?” “Oh. Yeah. I slept on the floor. You were being a little… let's just say, assertive, in your sleep. You kept elbowing me, and kicking me, yelling at me a bit. I decided I should just sleep on the floor in the first place, rather than wait for you to kick me all the way off the bed.” “Sorry. Been having nightmares a lot lately, probably hit you fighting off something fucked up in my dream.” “Should I try to wake you up if it happens again? Save you from your bad dreams?” “If it happens again?” “Yes?” Luis's face mirrors Leon's confused expression. “If tonight you start tossing and turning like you did last night, should I let you keep resting, or try to wake you up and calm you down?” Luis slept on the fucking floor most of the night because Leon kept attacking him in his sleep, and yet he's signing up to be subjected to it all over again tonight. “Seriously? You're sleeping here tonight?” “I am. Unless you don't want me to?” “No, I want you to. Just hard to believe you want to. And you should wake me up if I get like that again. You might get punched though.” “That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for you,” Luis's body starts to feel more relaxed against Leon's as Leon's tears and rapid breathing slow. “That was what you were crying about just now? Bad dream?” “No,” It would have been so easy to just say yes and let the discussion drop, but he's trying not to lie anymore. “I cried because you weren't in bed with me. Thought I was back to the whole single parent, single income, somehow making everything work plan.”

“That's as far from reality as your nightmares are. I'm here, I won't be walking out on you, and my money is your money. Got it?” “I still feel like one day you're just going to wake up and realize how fucked up this is and that I'm not worth it and walk away.” “Shit,” Luis mutters to himself when he glances over at the clock. “As much as I want to lay here and argue with you and make promises all day long, I actually need to go. Right now. I mean, I actually needed to go an hour ago, the director is going to kill me,” Luis jumps up and picks his wrinkled shirt up off the floor and puts it on backwards, a.nd he's moving and talking too fast for Leon to get a word of warning in. “Technically, I am walking out on you right now. But I am not walking out on you. I'll be back in time for dinner, we'll have whatever you want, I love you, bye!”

[hllfireclb]

please please please make a longer version on the mocking Eddie because that was just amazing please! ty

you ask, I deliver 🤭

+18, mdni ; sorry for any kind of mistakes!

"You were saying?" || e.m x fem!reader

"C‘mon…you’re not done yet, are you?“ you hear the voice of your boyfriend behind you. His one hand is placed on your hips, digging his nails into your sweaty skin so he can keep you in place. His other hand is tangled in your hair, grabbing it harsh, causing you to throw your head back and look at him. All you can do is moan loudly like you‘ve been doing the past hour. Good thing for you Wayne isn’t home..if he was, he‘d have thrown you out of the trailer by now (not really, that man loves you)

Eddie’s cock slowly slides out of the warm feeling of your throbbing pussy, gripping your hips even harder so you can’t bounce back onto your new favorite drug. "I asked you a question y/n“ he growls with a raspy voice. Again your only answer is a whiny moan and a wiggle with your ass as a sign for him to keep fucking you like a slut. Like his slut.

"Fuck you really are a Brat, aren’t ya?" he almost sounds mad. But that’s what you wanted. That’s how you love it. How you need it. You need to be put in your place sometimes, you need to see Eddie hovering above you like a god, you need him to take the whole control over you, your body, your everything.

Before you actually can come back to reality and be able to answer him, you feel how Eddie lets go of your hair and hips and makes you turn around,so you now lie on your back, facing him. His brown locks stick to his neck, his bangs are all over his forehead and he‘s breathing heavily. Fuck, that man really is a god. A fucking sex god.

His lips are plump and swollen from your Make-out session that was earlier that evening, his well trained chest moves up and down from his heavy breathing, his cock is hard as a rock and right inbetween your legs…so close but still so far away. "Shit, you‘re so fucking greedy" his deep laugh pulls you out of your trance.

Again, before you‘re even able to open your mouth to say something he suddenly pushes the tip of his hard cock right into your pussy, making you clench and whimper loudly at the same time. It feels amazing to have him inside of you but at the same time it’s just not enough. You need more. So you slowly push your hips against his, causing Eddie to completely pull out again. He shakes his head while a soft "Tzz" sound leaves his mouth. When you let your hips fall onto the mattress again, he pushes his tip back inside.

This whole process goes for 10 minutes before you start whining even louder and start shaking your legs like a sad toddler. "Eddie please!!" You almost scream at him because of your neediness. "Please what? What do you want from me Huh?" "Please fuck me already!! Gosh!". Eddie’s lips form into a devilish grin "What was that? I did not quite hear you Sweetheart"

You roll your eyes at him as you open your mouth, once again "I said: Fuck me al- Oh gosh!!". As you speak, you can feel how your boyfriend almost slams his whole shaft into you, making your whole body tingle and vibrate at the same time. After what felt like ages you finally got what you want. Eddie deep inside of you. Making you feel full and complete.

"So..you were saying?~"

masterlist

requests are opened!:)

a/n: HELLO I am alive! It‘s been a while since I’ve wrote something longer, I know…but thanks to everyone that waited! To my moots, my followers, everyone! FR thank you! It‘s been a really crazy year for me! I’ve met so many ST actors and I still can’t get over it! (Joe keery, Finn, Charlie, Millie, Raph and a lot more! Also it’s almost been one year since i‘ve met Joe Quinn and I miss him SM fr :( ). Anyway, I‘m trying to be more active again! See and love y‘all!

[t-folklore13]

Tattoo - Eddie Munson

18+ MDNI

~

“OMG EDDIE YOU NEVER LISTEN” I throw a hand up and he looks at me pissed “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SWEAR THAT ALL I DO “EDDIE LETS DO THIS” “EDDIE LETS GET THESE” YOUR THE ONE WHO WANTS EVERYTHING AND IM TRYING” he flaunts his arms around and shakes his head

I am about to throw back about how we don’t even sleep in the same room anymore because he’s so distracted when the loud speaker come on “All Members of Corroded Coffin on stage in five minutes” he looks at me grabbing his stuff and starting to walk away “FINE BE LIKE THAT DONT EXPECT ME TO BE IN THAT BUS WHEN THE SHOW IS OVER IM GOING TO THE HOTEL” he waves me off and starts the show

I of course stay and watch the whole show he’s more amped up than usual and the fans love it I’ve always been so proud of him but he seems to like this life more than me, I leave his flowers I get him every show on his dresser with a letter talking about how proud of him I am and wave over a driver taking me to the hotel.

Im in the car when I remember I still need to get that call about removing my stick and poke tattoo I did when I was fifteen it was a fire symbol I got it to piss off my mother and Eddie thought it was so metal so three months later when he showed me his spider tattoo I wasn’t surprised

I look down at it on my wrist and see the tattoo I got with Eddie near it and smile it’s a spider

My heart starts to ache thinking about Eddie I love him so much but I don’t even think he loves me anymore he never shows it anyways

I start to walk to the elevator after checking in when a fan stops me “hey your Eddie Munsons girlfriend right” I smile and nod “That’s me” the kid laughs giddily and his eyes get wide “that is so metal! Can I get your autograph” I sign the kids arm and make my way up the building

As I’m in the elevator I think about how much that kid reminds me of Eddie and now all I want to do is sleep. I get inside and start getting ready for bed the tattoo removal place will probably call tomorrow anyways so I get into bed and fall asleep

~

My set finishes and I race to the back hoping to see my girl but I realize she’s gone and guilt hits me all at once. I get to my dressing room and see the note and flowers and leaves me after every show

As I’m reading the note I realize just how badly I fucked up I’m so in love with her and I want to propose I’ve been so distracted by that I didn’t realize that she’s been needing me

I rush outside and find a car driving to the hotel we talked about staying at instead of that stupid bus I rush to the front desk and smile at the guy on the other side “reservation for Munson” he gives me the key and I rush to the elevator going up to the room

When I open the door it’s dark and I see her sleeping on the bed with tear stained cheeks my heart clenches and I kiss her forehead “I love you baby”

I grab my clothes and get changed by the bed when her phone goes off “tattoo removal” I grab the phone and pick it up for her

“Hello?” The person on the other side shuffles and the line clicks “Hello is this a Mrs Munson” I smile and fiddle with my shirt “um no this is her um husband”

“Oh well hello husband I’m just here to confirm the removal of the tattoo on her right wrist is that correct?” My ears start ringing and my breathing quickens “her right wrist?” I hear the clicking of a pen and try to steady my breathing

“That’s what it says on the form she filled out” this can’t be right she wants to remove our tattoo the spider? Tears fill my eyes and I speak up this is what she really wants

“Yes I’m here to confirm” I hear her smile and a cheery voice hang up but I can’t breath she wants to break up she wants to leave me and she’s starting with the tattoo

I fall back on the ground and I can’t breath she’s gonna leave me she hates me the woman I love is gonna I let out a strangled cry and I can’t stop the thoughts she wants to leave me she’s gonna leave me

At this point I’m full on sobbing on the ground when I hear the bed shift and she rushes out of it “what wrong baby please tell me what’s wrong” she grabs me I look at her and she’s so beautiful my beautiful girl but she doesn’t want me to be mine anymore, I look down

She grabs my face and forces me to look at her “baby please tell me what’s wrong you’re scaring me is it because of the fight?” She sits next to me and wraps her arms around me all I can think of is that this could be the last time

I bury my face into her neck and sob even louder she holds me and rocks me back and forth and I can hear her crying too “baby please tell me what’s wrong it hurts me to see you like this please baby”

I shake my head a catch my breath a bit and look into her eyes “your gonna leave me” it’s hurts to even say out loud and she holds me “baby what are you talking about” I sniffle and grab her wrist softly

“Your getting it removed”

She looks at me confused and tears are still running down my face “yes I’m getting it removed why does it matter?” I pull myself out from her grip and start crying hard again “because it’s our tattoo I have it too and you want to remove it so that means that your- yo- your gonna leave me”

I sob out the last part and she rushes back over to me “no no baby you’ve got it all wrong where did you get that idea from” I look down and think about the call “the lady on the phone said you want to get the tattoo on your right wrist removed why would you do that baby? You want to leave me huh?”

“No no baby not our tattoo I would never remove that I want to remove my stick and poke I did years ago I don’t ever want to leave you” I look up and her and I can finally breath again

“You don’t want to leave me?”

“No baby I don’t want to leave you why would you think that” she wipes my tears and my bottom lip quivers from trying to talk “well we got in that fight and I haven’t been giving you my full attention lately and I though you were tired of it, tired of me”

She wraps her arms around me and sits in my lap I immediately wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly she kisses my head repeatedly and smooths her hand over it playing with my hair to calm me down and it works

“Im sorry baby” she pulls away slightly and holds my face “why are you sorry baby” I play with the ends of her and hair and take a deep breath “I scared you and it was just because I misunderstood I’m sorry”

She smiles and kisses me “never be sorry for that I was scared for you because I thought something happened to Wayne that’s all but please believe me I would never leave you I love you so much”

I smile and lean into her hand “when I though you were leaving me it was like physical pain it hurt so much and I never want to feel that again I just can never lose you because I love you too much”

She pulls me in again and kisses me deeply “I love you and I always will but lately you haven’t been communicating with me and it was hurting me too”

“Im sorry for that baby but I’ve been um putting together a proposal for you because I wanna marry you and I want you to be mine forever” she pushes me to the ground and kisses me over and over “you wanna marry me?” I smile and nod

“Of course I wanna marry you, you are so kind and smart and funny and sexy and you are always there for me even when I don’t deserve it sometimes but I do know for a fact I want you in my life forever if you wanna be in mine”

“Of course I wanna be with you yes yes yes” and kisses me again and I sit up picking her up as well in the process “let’s try this again” I walk over to my bag a pull out a ring and walk back over getting on one knee “will you marry me” she grabs my hand and pulls me up kissing me “yes”

I slip the ring on her and smile at how it looks, how she looks my beautiful fiancee we both go over to the bed and she lays down on my chest “ I love you baby”

“I love you too”

[edwards-hairball]

Nothing But a Cold, Dark, Empty Soul: Part 1

(I originally posted this fic on AO3 but thought I'd cross post here! I'll be fleshing it out more here as well so yay for Tumblr readers!)

Jess is new in Gravity Falls, arriving the Fall before the twins get shipped off to stay with their Grunkle Stan. She's running from something and looking for a fresh start in a new place where no one knows her. What better place than Middle of Nowhere, Oregon?

She's broke, looking for work, and desperate. Exactly what Stan Pines is looking for in an employee!

CW: Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI. Stan Pines/OC. This is not a slow-burn. I can't write it for shit. So please enjoy my self-indulgent garbage! And please read the tags after the break, those are the only warning you're getting!

The tags on AO3 are:

Not Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Age Difference, Sex, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Pre-Canon, Sugar Daddy, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Creampie, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Fingerfucking, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex Toys, Ford Pines is a Good Brother, Boat Sex

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

I pulled my packed car into the parking lot of a diner. What state am I in again? Right, Oregon. I've made it across three states with no angry phone calls or messages from my ex begging me to come back. 

I took a deep breath and shut off the engine before staring at myself in the rearview. Sad, gray eyes with dark circles underneath stared back. My black hair was greasy and frizzy from the humidity and lack of washing. My clothes certainly smelled like a garbage can at this point.

It was kind of sad that all my belongings were packed into my back seat. Even sadder, my wallet was all but empty from having to get gas so much in the last two weeks. My stomach grumbled and interrupted my depressed thoughts just long enough to push me inside the restaurant. 

The diner looked like a greasy spoon type of place, but those were always my favorites. I stretched before walking in.

A "seat yourself" sign and a "how manly are you" test flanked the door, and at the other end of the room was a pie display that clearly used to spin. A lumberjack and a couple kids that looked like they were his were eating pancakes in a booth, an old man was sipping coffee at the end of the bar, and a woman with a beehive hairstyle and a lazy eye was wiping down a table.

I slid into a clean-ish booth and sighed. A sticky menu sat propped against the window. 

One plate of eggs and toast later, I was reading a newspaper and my map. Where to next? That is, if my car even starts.

The bell on the door jingled, and a man in a suit and fez waltzed in with a smile. He was... odd. But no one else was fazed by him.

"Lazy Susan! How's my girl?" The woman at the counter rolled her good eye. He hummed as he walked closer to where I sat, and stopped dead when his eyes landed on me. He looked me over, as if reading my entire life story. Like my sorrows were printed on my forehead. He grinned at me.

"How ya doin'? You new in town?" I pulled my hands into my lap as he slid into the seat opposite me at the booth. This man made me a little nervous. "What, can't talk?"

"Uh... hi?" He chuckled.

"That's more like it! So, what's your name? Mine's Stan. Stan Pines. I run the Mystery Shack." Mystery Shack?

"What's that? Some kind of gimmicky tourist trap to trick people into spending too much money?" He sat back and crossed his arms before giving me a big grin.

"You get it! I like your moxie, kid. So, your name?"

I felt like giving my name would feel like a pact with the fae. But he was just some older guy with too much to say and no one to say it to. Why not humor him?

"Jess," I answered," sticking my hand out to shake. "And I'm just passing through."  He leaned on his elbows. 

"No one comes here when they're just passin' through. Closest interstate is fifty miles north. So, what really brings you to Oregon's asshole? Nothing here but my Shack, and you seem too smart to fall for it." The ease in which he called out my lie was astonishing.

"I'm kind of road tripping and trying to find somewhere to settle. Any ideas?" He pulled my map towards himself and grabbed a pen. He scribbled something things, crossed out a few towns, and then scratched out the entire state of Arizona. A small part of me appreciate it. I had no intention of going back soon.

"Hmm... well, not many places worth visiting. Course, I'm banned from all the surrounding states so I can't really go anywhere else, but if I were you, I'd stay here for a while!" His laugh made me think it was just a joke, but his over all demeanor told me it was at least half true. I had to laugh with him.

He was funny, if a little off-kilter. 

"Well, Mr. Pines, are there any cheap motels around here?" He rubbed his chin and looked out the window. I saw a Motel 6, something called Cheap Inn, and another motel that advertised hourly rates, but didn't have a sign otherwise.

"Eh, I wouldn't recommend any of these. Tell ya what, if you're sticking around, you need a job, right? I'm hiring! I'll even let you stay at my house, practically free." His smile... he sounded so confident. I knew I was face to face with a long-time con artist. But making a little money and having a free place to crash didn't sound too bad at this point. I'd been on the road for two weeks. I was keeping off the interstates and major highways, going on as many back roads and through as many small towns as I could. My car was for sure going to give out soon, and I couldn't afford to get it fixed.

"I think that's the best deal I've heard all day. What's the catch?" He chuckled and winked.

"Smart girl. I like you already. Catch is... nothin' in life is really free, kid. I'll pay you half wages in exchange for a place to lay that pretty head."

Shit. Half pay? What's the minimum wage in Oregon again? But... I have no other offers and I spent my last five bucks on breakfast.

"Not much of a choice, huh? I'll take your offer, Mr. Pines." I stuck out my hand to shake. He grasped it confidently. It was the kind of handshake you will think about the rest of the day. Strong and sure, even if what came out of his mouth was utter bullshit. At the same time, I felt like I just sealed my fate and would never see anything but towering pine trees and gimmicky taxidermy the rest of my life.

"Call me Stan. You done here? I can take you there now. Let you get settled, showered. Then it's right to work! I'm leading tours in two hours and I need someone to man the gift shop. The teen I hired is at school and I can't take people's money alone!" 

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Chapter 2: Movin' In

Stan's A-Frame cabin in the woods had another shack built onto the side, forming the Mystery Shack part of the building. The sign on the roof looked like it was hanging by a thread. Otherwise, the outside was clean and maintained. Inside the public area of the Mystery Shack were trinkets, fake totems, tee shirts, and more things you would find in a kitschy gift shop. Snow globes, bumper stickers, bouncy balls, and even some shrunken heads. They looked real enough, but on close inspection, they were just silicone and plastic. A couple looked like Barbie heads that were painted green.

I lugged my duffel bag inside and he led me through an "employee only" door. It led into his home.

A bachelor pad. An old bachelor pad. Beer cans littered the surfaces, old photos on the walls, more shrunken heads and animal taxidermy, even a dinosaur skull as a side table. Fake, of course. It smelled vaguely of moth balls and Pabst Blue Ribbon. He directed me up the narrow stairs that creaked with every gust of wind outside. On the second landing were two bedrooms and a bathroom, then the attic was above us. 

"One on the left is mine. That's the only room off limits in here. Free roam otherwise. We have a tour group scheduled in an hour." He pushed the creaky door open. Inside was a dust-covered mattress on a bowed frame, a dresser, and a small, patchy rug. 

Better than I thought it would be.

I set my bag at the foot of the bed and turned to find a tee shirt being shoved into my hands.

"Uniform. Just a question mark tee shirt. Soos had an extra he's going to let you have. You... uh... may wanna wash it first. Just a nametag works for today." He handed over a blank one for me. I pinned it to my shirt and smiled. This wasn't the ideal situation, but it would save me money and get me a job. And maybe give me a chance to think about where to go next.

"I appreciate what you're doing for me," I said. He huffed. "I promise, it's only temporary. Once I get enough money to get on my feet, I'll be out of your hair." He shrugged. We walked out to the shop and he showed me the register and how to operate it, the no-refund policy, and told me that service with a smile is not nearly as important as I think it is.

With that, I was "fully trained."

People came and went all day to go on Stan's tour. I met Soos, and at the end of the day Wendy came in. She seemed pretty cool for a teenager. 

When Stan finally flipped over the open sign and locked the door, I clasped my hands in front of me. Stan glanced at me and hummed.

"What? You lookin' for me to say you did a good job?" My shoulders slumped a bit.

"No," I mumbled. 

"Well, you did. So... good job today? I don't know. I'm bad at this praise thing." I grinned and walked back into the house with him. "I don't care what you do now. You're off the clock. Go hang out around town, unpack, who cares." Stan shut himself into his office. I looked around the living room and kitchen area and my nose wrinkled. Not from the drab wallpaper or the small layer of dust on some of the surfaces, but because of the discarded cans and trash laying around. If I was going to live here, even temporarily, I needed to clean. Call it a leftover behavior from my last living situation, but I got it into my head that if I kept the house tidy, Stan would appreciate me being around.

I dug in the cabinets until I found the trash bags and some furniture polish. It took two bags to get the trash out of both rooms and the hallway. How much trash did this man accumulate? And how often did he actually clean? Thankfully, I didn't find any moldy food scraps or dishes. When I finally sat down, the communal areas of the house, including the bathroom, were spotless. I made a mental note to pick up some air fresheners to try and get out the smell of feet and stale cigars. And maybe rent a carpet cleaner for the rug.

I heard Stan's door open and I sat up from my slumped position. His eyes swept around in confusion.

"What the hell happened in here? Did a clean tornado come through?" My heart twisted. He's mad about my cleaning. "I mean, I appreciate it, don't get me wrong! I just... I don't expect you to clean up after me. I know I'm a pig, that's not your problem." Now it was my turn to be confused.

"Oh... I thought you were mad." I blushed at how stupid I sounded.

"How can I be mad? As long as you didn't throw out my bone collection, we're good!" I glanced at the jar of small animal bones on the shelf and a small grin started to spread across my face.

"Wait here," I said. I went out to my car and dug in a box until I found the jar I was hunting for. I brought it in and set it on the shelf right next to his jar of bones. My jar was smaller and a bit more decorative, but it contained similar contents.

His bones were those of rodents and other small mammals, while mine were of birds and lizards. He came over to look and gave me an approving smile.

"Glad to know you won't be grossed out by my bone collection. I'll make sure Soos doesn't touch yours when he's helping craft new exhibits." 

Stan helped me move the rest of my stuff out of my car before leaving me alone. The sun was down before I started to unpack my things and settle in. I dusted off the bare mattress and spread my own sheets on, dusted off the dresser and the inside of the drawers, and did my best to make the cramped space livable and comfy.

I made a mental shopping list. I couldn't afford any of it yet, but I wanted to make this as comfortable for myself as possible. Part of me wanted it to be temporary, but another small piece of me, at the back of my mind, was content with the idea of living in the woods where no one knows me.

I stretched out on the bed and took a deep breath. This was turning out to be a decent idea.

I just had a roommate.

A sixty year old roommate. 

A sort of handsome, eccentric sixty year old roommate with suspicious stains on almost every surface of the house.

The next morning, I got up early and cooked breakfast. If I keep Stan fed and happy, maybe he'll let me stay longer.

The smell of bacon and frying eggs must have woken him up. He trudged into the kitchen in a wifebeater and boxers. Without his fez, his gray hair was fluffy and ruffled from his sleep. It was... kind of cute, actually.

"Damn. Haven't woken up to that smell in years! What's the occasion?" I smiled as I served him a plate.

"No occasion. Just thought it would be nice to have breakfast." He eyed the toast suspiciously.

"So... you don't have any ulterior motives? Because you don't have to cook for me. Like the cleaning thing? You don't have to keep me fat and happy to stay here." Every time I did something for him, he told me I didn't need to. Was there something wrong with me? I stared down at my plate and sighed softly. But he heard it.

"Hey...  really do appreciate it. Just.... don't go to this trouble for me. I promise, I ain't worth the worry. Save your energy for yourself. I'll appreciate it a lot more when it's something I deserve. Okay?" I glanced up at him.

"But... you're letting me stay here. You aren't charging me rent." He held up a hand.

"I'm making you work for half of minimum wage in exchange for a dusty bed in a moldy room. Trust me, kid. Whatever saint you think I am... think again."

We ate in silence. Maybe Stan was right. I needed to stop trying so hard. But I wanted to do things for him.

"So, tell me about yourself. What's the whole mystery with you?" I choked on my coffee.

"No... ugh... no mystery." He raised and eyebrow.

"Nuh-uh. You can't fool me. I know what livin' in your car looks and smells like, doll face. You're tellin' me that a young, pretty thing like you has her whole life packed in that Camry, a burner phone, and just happens to be avoiding major highways just because? C'mon. Tell me what ya did. Who did ya kill?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I didn't do anything to anyone."

"Did you skip out on payin' your pimp or somethin'?" I glared at him. Never in my life was I called a prostitute until now. Don't get me wrong, I respect the profession. A girl's gotta make a living. But my ex loved to tell people he "saved me from working the corner" every time someone asked about me. It wasn't even true! I was a fast-food worker before he made me quit and be a stay at home girlfriend.

"Drop it, Stanford." He returned my glare.

"That better be the last time that name falls outta that mouth, kid."

"Then drop it." We were in a standoff. Glaring and seething at one another. Fuck, if I wasn't so desperate for cash, I would have slapped the shit out of him and ran. He finally relented.

"Fine. Sorry I called you a hooker. I'll do the dishes. Go open the gift shop."

I left the table quickly, only to get away from him faster. For some reason, he was making my blood boil this morning. All prior thoughts of him being handsome or cute disappeared during that conversation. But I did learn something very important about him in those moments.

Despite his initial kindness and offers to help, Stanford Pines is an asshole.

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Chapter 3: Routines, Anyone?

When he finally came into the gift shop, he was in his tight fitting suit. After seeing him at breakfast, my suspicions of him wearing a girdle were all but confirmed. No way he goes from beer-gut to hot in a suit without shapewear. He grunted at me as he passed to go out and greet a tour bus that was pulling up.

I plastered on my best fake smile as they came into the gift shop, selling and upselling left and right. Flirting with the older men, telling mothers that Christmas was right around the corner and these would make perfect gifts... And it worked. Maybe it was something in the Gravity Falls tap water, but everyone here seemed so gullible after Stan got done with them. Maybe it was just his charm. I wasn't fooled. I knew he could turn in a second.

But could he? Who really picked that fight? The more I thought about it, the more I saw him be charming and gentle with customers, the more I thought I had overreacted. He was just trying to get close to me.

He tried to get to know me, and I lashed out. And he took it on the chin, as if it were second nature. The realization made me feel like shit. I would have to apologize.

All day, I thought up something I could say or do to make up for my bitchiness but nothing came up. He didn't want me cooking or cleaning for him, he and I were strangers, and talking wasn't gonna happen. So what can I do?

I found my answer near the end of the week. We were cleaning up the showroom in the shed, and I noticed some new stains on Stan's suit. I decided to trick him into letting me do things around the house for him, including laundry. When he wasn't paying attention, I did some quick cleaning in the kitchen. I put a new laundry hamper in the bathroom and washed his clothes while he slept. It was a new routine.

Work in the day to make money, work at night to keep a roof over my head. Get up early to make breakfast for him, open while he gets dressed. I felt like a live-in maid, and I guess that's what I am anyway.

I knew he would catch on eventually, but I figured I had time before then. I relied on his mysterious absences in the evenings to mask my cleaning as "waiting up." Until he found me asleep on the couch with a dust rag in my hand and cleaning supplies on the floor.

At that point, it was early October. I'd been living with him for a month and a half, secretly cleaning for three weeks. I felt him pull the rag from my hand and opened my eyes to see him picking up the furniture polish and carpet shampoo. He gave me a disapproving look that only an old man can give.

"What the hell are you doin' kid?" I rubbed my eyes and sat up. "This isn't the first time I've caught you, you know."

Shit. Have I fallen asleep like this before? I didn't even remember. But I never woke up on the couch, so what happened? "Last time, it was hell carryin' you up the stairs. Help an old man out, eh?" I paled.

"I... I'm sorry." He grunted.

"None of that. I know you've been cleaning and bein' a maid for me while I'm out runnin' errands at night." He sighed and sat next to me on the sofa. He was in his boxers and tank top again, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. What does he do all night? As he stretched, I saw vague shapes of a concealed tattoo and some scars. "Knock off the cleanin'. And quit doin' my laundry. You ain't my maid. I already underpay you. You're makin' me feel guilty here."

I hung my head. I never meant to make him feel that way.

"I.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to feel like that, Stan." He glanced over at me.

"I've seen my fair share of bad coping mechanisms, doll. I'm not gonna contribute to someone else's. I'll drop it if you tell me why you insist on doing this shit. And neither one of us is goin' to be until you tell me, so you got no choice here." He watched me for a moment. Expectantly.

Shit.

"I... Fine. I figured that if I kept your house clean and you started to rely on me... you wouldn't want me to leave. Even if you got mad enough at me to kick me out. If I can't be wanted, I would be needed." He furrowed his brows.

"Have I made you feel unwanted?" I felt a lump in my throat and shook my head.

"No. Just... I came here because I was running from someone. My fiancé. Well, ex-fiancé now since I ran away. He always told me no one would want me around if not for him. I was nothing without him. Stuff like that. I wasn't wanted, but I did everything for him, so he needed me."

I felt a hand come down on my shoulder gently. I looked up from my lap. Stan had scooted closer to me and was giving me a sad look.

"I know how you fell, toots. Trust me when I say, that ain't how you wanna live. It ain't livin'. You gotta take care of you, no matter what everyone else thinks of you. I don't know what he told you, but you ain't worthless. You're nice. You're good at your job here. You're funny! I would want you here even if you didn't work for me. Tell you what. Take a week off, and relax. I'll still pay you and everything."

I knew he was just saying that to make me feel better, but it was working. He pulled me a little closer and I rested my head on his shoulder while he hugged me against his side. Stan was warm, inside and out.

"I was wrong." He pulled back with a smirk.

"About what?" My cheeks heated at having to admit this.

"You aren't a total asshole."

He chuckled and ruffled my hair before sending me to bed with a ban on cleaning the house.

As October inched onward, things were more calm. Tourists were slowing down.

One night after a slow day at the Shack, Stan cracked open the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. 

"Care to drink with me?" He's never offered before, but I didn't want to turn him down.

We sat in silence as we drank and watched an old horror movie. It wasn't too scary, but when you're curled up on a small sofa next to someone else, it's a little hard to pay attention. Half the bottle was gone by the time the film was over, but we had quit paying attention.

"... So then, the guy slams the car door and says, 'that's why I never deal with circus people!'" He busted out in laughter at his own joke, and I couldn't help but join him! His smile was infectious. He started asking me questions, though. 

"So, Jess. Tell me more about that asshole ex of yours! What made you finally leave him? I mean, awful as I am, you still stick around!" I took another sip. If I wasn't buzzed, I wouldn't have answered.

"He was a piece of work. Brandon... He was kinda violent. Always threatening me and... sometimes it was more than threats. I finally got the courage to get out. But I didn't tell him I was going, I just put my shit in my car and started driving. Back roads and cash only. I left my cell phone and got a burner so he couldn't track me. He was kind of intense like that. I'm still scared he'll find me." Stan draped his arm over the back of the couch. I felt brave, so I snuggled up to him.

My head rested on his shoulder and I gazed up at him. His large nose, his scruffy chin, his deep brown eyes... Maybe I am drunk. He's kind of handsome.

"Damn. I had an ex like that once. She was insane. I think she eventually left the country? Maybe even the dimension, I don't know." I snorted a laugh and covered my mouth.

"Dimension? That's a good one." He chuckled and took another sip. "So, yeah. I ended up here because I was running. Twenty-seven and running scared! So, I guess, thanks for giving me a place to crash while I think about where to run next." 

He gave me a weird look. Like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. He leaned marginally closer to me.

"I... I hope you don't run off too soon, you know. I kinda like having you around." I grinned and put my arm across the top of his beer gut.

"That's good. I kinda like being here with you." Stan froze and out of the corner of my eye I saw him grip the fabric of the worn sofa. His hand clenched around his glass and he tipped his head forward. His fez fell into his lap. His healthy crop of silver hair was messy from wearing his hat all day.

"Why do you wear that thing in the house? I get the gimmick for the tours, but in here? You're in your boxers, Stan!" He sighed.

"Just a little self-conscious, I guess. My hair ain't what it used to be." I couldn't help it. I reach up and ran a hand into his hair. What I thought would be wiry and greasy was soft and smooth. His eyes shut and he let out a sigh and I ran my fingers through the strands. My fingers massaged against his scalp gently and I heard him sigh in contentment.

"I don't know. I'd say your hair is perfect. I think you could get away with leaving the fez at home." I rested my hand on his cheek as he turned to look at me, and couldn't help but gaze into his brown eyes. They were a beautiful shade.

I wanted to lean in. I wanted to kiss him. But I was nowhere near drunk enough to think he would want it, too. His scruffy cheeks brightened pink and I pulled my hand away, my own cheeks heating. I sat up from where I rested against him and felt suddenly sober.

He rubbed the back of his neck before getting up and leaving without a word. I felt as embarrassed as him.

In the morning, I woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. When was the last time that happened? I walked down to the kitchen and found Stan, fully dressed, making pancakes.

"Mornin'doll! How'd you sleep?" I shrugged and joined him at the stove. "No, no. Siddown. It's my turn. I'll let you clean up when we're done." 

As we ate, the silence felt like it would choke me.

"So... about last night," he said. "Sorry if I crossed a line. I think I was pretty drunk." Crossed a line? I'm the one who went to bed and rubbed one out to the thought of him. I felt like a total perv!

"Stan, I'm the one who should apologize to you." He shook his head.

"No, no. I can't let you take the blame for something like that. I'm old enough to know better. I shouldn't be cuddled up on the couch with a chick young enough to be my daughter." My heart twisted. Sure, Stan was a con man. And older. And a little unstable. But it's better than my last situation. And I thought he was handsome. Maybe even attractive. Definitely attractive. The way his suit hugged his body made my mouth water.

"Oh." That's all I could say. "I'm sorry." He shook his head again.

"You're not getting the point. I don't need you to apologize. I'm apologizing to you. That's why I made breakfast. I don't want you to think I was taking advantage of you being drunk last night."

I reached my hands across the small table and grabbed his. He froze like he did the night before. 

"I wasn't drunk. And you didn't do anything wrong. I mean... I didn't mind us being on the couch together like that. I... I kind of... wanted to go further, if I'm being honest." His thumb brushed over my knuckles before he quickly pulled his hands away and put them in his lap.

"You don't know what you're sayin'. I think you need to take some time off. Take a few days off from the Shack. Go make some other friends." I furrowed my brows.

"I have plenty of friends here. I hang out with Wendy and Soos all the time! And I was just off for a week! Stan, I don't understand what I did wrong but-" I cut me off and stood from the table. He stepped over to my side of it and knelt in front of me with his hands on one knee.

"Jess. You didn't do anything. Okay? I am... dammit! I'm too old for this shit. I left last night because I felt... different. It didn't feel like we were roommates or coworkers. It felt too... domestic. I like having you around and I don't want you to go anywhere, but keeping you to myself feels like I'm taking advantage of someone who's brain was scrambled by an abusive ex. That's why I banned you from housework. I don't want you thinking there's no way outta here." I took his hands again and stared at his rings. 

"I don't feel trapped, though. I feel like I have a home to retreat to instead of needing to get away from my home. I'm not in constant fight or flight. I feel safe here. I fell appreciated." I looked into his brown eyes as he searched my face. 

"Dammit," he whispered. He pulled one hand away and rested it on his chest. "I'm way too old for this." He shook his head and leaned up to press a soft kiss to my forehead before he stood and walked out into the gift shop. I heard him flip the open sign and greet some people who were waiting outside.

I was frozen in place. He kissed me. Well, my forehead. But the way he looked at me just now made my heart flutter. Does he... like me? 

I cleaned up breakfast and sat with my hands under my thighs for a short while before Soos walks through with a broom.

"What's up, J-Dawg? You're all red. Are you sick?" I shook my head and looked down at my lap.

"Soos, I know this is a weird question. Is Stan.... does he date?" Soos rubbed his chin and hummed.

"I think.... the last date he went on was two years ago with some lady passing through town. Older than him. I think he was trying to get her money, though so I wouldn't count it. I can't remember the last time Stan was lookin' for love. You know?" He continued on with his chore and I sighed. That didn't make me feel better. 

I knew I was attracted to Stan, more or less. But how did he really feel about me? We've known each other for a month, and we live together. 

One way to find out how he really feels. Time to pull the shameless seduction card.

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Chapter 4: Dirty Mind

I had an extra Mystery Shack tee shirt. I grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting horizontal lines in it to make the chest look shredded, I cut the bottom to turn it into a sort of crop top, and I found my denim shorts. They went down to the knee, so a few quick snips made them short enough to show just enough butt cheek. My hiking boots and a beanie completed the outfit. The white camisole I wore under the cut up shirt still showed all my cleavage and the tightness of it pushed my breasts together perfectly. No bra, so my nipples could try and poke through. And a black lace thong, ready to make an appearance when I bend over. 

Is it too much? Maybe. But it's the quickest way to find out if Stan thinks I'm attractive. I certainly have no issue with the silver fox. 

If he's into you, he might not make you leave.

I shook my head to get rid of the intrusive thought. He isn't going to send me anywhere. He likes me living here. He told me that himself.

When the Shack was empty of customers, I walked out calmly. Stan wasn't in the building. I sat on the stool behind the counter and crossed my shaved legs. Maybe this will get his blood pumping.

The bell above the door jingled and Stan's footsteps halted. I was pretending to pick at my nails. I heard the door slam and the lock click. The sign flipped.

Stan's footsteps sounded angry. I glanced up when they stopped and I saw him leaning on the counter, palms flat against the wood. 

"What in the hell are you wearing?" My cheeks burned and I plastered on a smile.

"My uniform. See?" I gestured to my nametag, sitting low so it was right on one of my tits. His eyes drew over me.

"That's... not your uniform." I grinned and leaned forward to rest my elbows on the counter, giving him a view down my shirt.

"Aw, but isn't it cute? I made it out of my uniform!" I rested my left hand on the back of one of his hands and rubbed it softly with my thumb.

I hadn't tried to seduce anyone in years. I was surprised Stan was even tolerating this. His eyes watched my hand intently. The crease in his brow made me worry, only because he looked so angry but was silent.

Stan pulled his hand away from me and met my gaze. I bit my lip in what I hoped was a sexy expression.

"How dumb do you think I am to fall for this?" My smile dropped and my heart twisted. "No one is this desperate, kid." What the hell? He started to walk back into the house but I ran around the counter and grabbed his arm. He pulled away quickly.

"Stan, why can't you believe that I like you? God, you're such a jerk!"

"Because you aren't blind, you aren't senile, and you're thirty-three years younger than me! Don't set yourself up like this, kid. I ain't gonna end well." The hurt in my heart was turning to anger quickly.

"Dammit, Stanford, I like you! I want to spend time with you! I might even want to date you if you weren't such an ass!" 

He looked like he was short circuiting. His eye twitched. He gripped my shirt at my shoulder and pulled me into the house, slammed the door into the shop, and pushed me onto the couch. Just last night, we were snuggled up together. Now, he stood over me with his large arms crossed over his barrel chest. I sat with my knees together and my hands in my lap. 

I had poured my heart out about my ex, but now he was acting like Brandon.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Don't. You. Ever. Call. Me. Stanford." Was this his anger he was talking about once? He warned me that I didn't want to see him mad. 

I didn't let my fear show. I held my breath and rose up to look him in the eye. Almost. When he stood to his full height like this instead of slouching, Stan was a head taller than me.

"I see the way you stare at me when you think I'm not looking. You aren't as good at hiding it as you think you are." His red cheeks pinkened even more. I cracked a grin. "Even right now," I purred, "as mad as you are, you want me." I ran my hands up his arms and pressed myself against the obvious tent in his pants. He gripped my shoulders and tried to push me away again, but I grabbed his waist and clung to him.

"If you were smart," he said, "you would be running from me right now." His warning tone was chilling, but I just smiled and pulled him even closer.

"Good thing I'm a dropout, then." I leaned up and cupped his cheek, pulling him so my lips were a breath from his. He grabbed my hands and stopped me, pushing me away gently before stalking off. His bedroom door slammed and I heard a picture fall off the wall.

I pissed him off. Good.

The next part of my plan was even less subtle, but I needed to sneak into the laundry room and steal a shirt.

Lucky for me, it was laundry day, and Stan's shirts were in the dryer.

I quietly went in and pulled out the least stained one. Then I grabbed his fez from the table by the door. I could hear him in his room. Thin fucking walls.

He was talking to himself quickly. Hopefully, he was kicking himself for rejecting me. But if there's one thing I know how to do, it's double down.

I dressed in my new outfit and went about my business, cooking dinner for the two of us. Stan hadn't come out of his room yet, but the smell of food always works. Steak, baked potatoes, and carrots.

He came out of his room and I smiled to myself while I put his plate together. I heard his footsteps stop and he sucked in a breath when I bent over to pick up a fork I may or may not have dropped on purpose. 

I stood and turned to him with a smile. If looks could kill...

"What the fuck are you wearing?" I put both plates on the table and grabbed two beers from the fridge.

"Since you're always walking around in your underwear, I figured I could dress comfortably, too. I'm glad you started using my fabric softener."

The outfit in question was one of his white shirts (halfway unbuttoned), a black push-up bra, and the matching black lace panties. They left just enough uncovered when I bent over to make him blush, and when I stood straight, the shirt brushed the tops of my thighs. My black hair was loose and wavy, going down past my shoulders. His fez sat lopsided on my head. It was a little big on me.

Stan sat and gripped the side of the table. He eyed the food suspiciously, as if he thought it was poisoned.

"You're not gonna let up, are ya?" I pulled my chair close to him and crossed my legs under the table. My foot brushed against his calf. I heard his hands rub against the formica table as he gripped it. He kept his eyes on me.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Stan. I'm not doing anything." He snatched the fez from my head and I whipped my head to look at him. "Hey!"

"That's mine," he growled. "And this," he said, tugging the loose sleeve of his shirt, "is also mine. I want it back." I grinned. He's making this too easy.

"Okay!" I stood up and unbuttoned the shirt the rest of the way, shrugged it off, and draped it over the back of his chair. His face turned a bright red as his eyes widened. "Is that better?" I sat back down and tried to ignore how self conscious I was about my fupa. I crossed my legs again.

"You're actually insane!" I shrugged and took a bite of my steak.

"Eat before it gets cold. Is rare, just how you like it." He slid his chair way from me before eating slowly. "So, are we good?" He scoffed.

"Good? I have an insane roommate who just stripped in front of me like it was nothin'. You're acting totally fine about me seeing you like this when you should be running for the hills! You should be thinking I'm too old and creepy for starin' at you!" I shrugged again and smiled. "Jeez, if I knew you were this unstable, I never woulda offered you a place to crash." It sounded like a joke, but that didn't take the sting away. My smile faltered and I looked down at my lap. 

This was a terrible idea.

"Hey, I know that look," he said. He moved his chair closer again. "It was a joke. I love having you around here. I just think.... damn. I think you should try to do better instead of settling for the first fella who was nice to you. Because I'm not nice! I'm an ass! You say it all the time!" I felt his shirt settle on my shoulders again. "Jess... I don't want you getting in over your head. I know you think you like me. But I'm not worth all this effort." I turned to face him, searching his pained expression.

"I think you are," I whispered. "You make me feel like a person again. You make me laugh and you don't make me do things that would hurt me just to make you laugh." I pressed my forehead into his shoulder. "You're good to me, and I want to be good to you. Even if you think you aren't good for me." Stan wrapped his arms around me and I gripped him by the shirt so he couldn't push me away.

"Kid... shit. You're really not gonna forget it, are you?" I shook my head. "Okay. Fine. You win! We can try. I can't lie to you, I think you're good lookin'. Have since I saw ya. But I'm old enough to be your father." I lifted my head to look at him.

"I don't care about that. I'm sick of guys my age." He sighed and kissed my forehead. 

"Full disclosure, then. I've got an ex-wife and probably a couple kids somewhere I don't know about, and I'm not getting married ever again. So don't get your hopes up for something like that." I sniffed and wiped my eyes.

We ate in silence, then Stan cleaned up while I went to put on some actual clothes. Sweatpants and one of Stan's tank tops I had stolen. He gave me a disapproving look, but sat on the couch with me anyway.

"So, for our first date, we're going to snuggle and watch Downton Abbey. It's a 1920's drama." He groaned and put his arm over the back of the couch while I hit play.

"Really? I usually wait until the third date before the masochism starts." I blushed and scooted closer so I could rest my head on his shoulder. 

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Chapter 5: Domesticity or Some Shit

The first time Stan took me out on a date, it was a crisp October evening, after the Shack had closed. I was told to dress warm. He was wearing a pink sweater that looked homemade.

"Cute sweater, Stan. I like the letters." His name had been stitched onto it sloppily. He grinned and puffed his chest with pride.

"My niece knitted this for me! Mabel is great at crafts. She makes all her own sweaters. And she's only twelve! She sent it to me for my birthday last year." I grinned. He loves his family.

We hopped into my car and he gave directions while I drove us down the winding country road. I didn't trust him to drive after last time. He directed me down a dirt road and we eventually came to a pond. There was a fire pit and some logs arranged around it. Two fishing poles sat against a decaying dock, and an old rowboat was tied off. The Stan 'o War was painted into the side. 

"This is my secret fishing spot," Stan said proudly. "It's a little cold for fishing, but I brought a picnic. I figured we could... I don't know... maybe go out on the pond for a bit? Sit in nature?" He was blushing!

I hugged him and hummed.

"I would love to! And when it gets warm, I'd love to go fishing with you. I've never done it before!" He pulled back from our hug and gave me a questioning look.

"Never been fishing? What gives!" I pushed him playfully.

"Not enough water in Arizona, Stud. I would've if I lived anywhere near a river, but it was no good for fishing where I was at." I followed him to the rowboat and he set his basket inside before taking my hand and helping me step in. He untied it, pushed off, and landed on the seat in front of me. It was kind of impressive.

"You're good at that," I said. He hummed.

"Years of practice. Nothing special, anyone could do it." He rowed us out to the middle of the pond before stopping. I closed my eyes and felt us bobbing gently in the ripples of the pond.

It was quiet out here. Utterly peaceful. The only sounds were the water lapping at the boat, the rustle of the falling leaves as a breeze blew in, and the occasional bird call or woodpecker. It was perfect.

Stan didn't speak for a long time while I looked at everything around us. I caught him staring at me, and we both looked away blushing.

It felt like we were teenagers on a first date. Nothing to talk about, just being together. And being awkward. Our knees were touching in the small space we shared. I reached my hands out to take his and rubbed my thumbs across his knuckles. 

"It's beautiful out here. I'm glad you shared your secret spot with me." He sniffed and looked out over the water. 

"Beauty deserves to be shared with the ones you care about." I didn't expect something poetic to come out of Stan. He seemed conscious of what he said and backtracked. "Or something like that. I heard that on the drama shows you like so much." His face was a bright red. 

The sunset cast a beautiful orange glow over the pond, making it look like a pool of fire. If it were warm out, I would want to swim in it. But I settled for snuggling next to Stan on his bench and watching the sun sink below the treeline. Crickets were chirping, frogs were groaning, and the woodpecker was still pecking away at a tree.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and couldn't help but smile. 

I felt calm for the first time in a while. No more panicked feeling when it was quiet. I wasn't constantly wondering if he was mad or not. His strong arm around me said everything. A chill breeze blew through and I huddled closer to Stan to keep warm. His arm tightened around me.

When the sun finished its descent into nothing, he let me go and we rowed together back to shore. We tied off the boat and he held my hand as I stepped onto dry land. Well, mostly dry. The mud caught me just right and I slipped to the ground, accidentally yanking Stan down with me. His hands were planted firmly on either side of my head as his chest hovered just above me. I giggled and he looked torn between standing up or staring at me. His cheeks were red and he was breathing hard. 

Before he could get away, I took my chance and leaned up to kiss him. I held his strong jaw in my hands as I moved my lips against him.

He was frozen for a moment after I pulled away. His eyes were wide. My cheeks were bright red. I've never blushed so much in my life! He rolled off of me and stood up, offered me a hand, and pulled me up into his arms. In one fluid motion, he pulled me from the ground, into his embrace, and bent down to press his lips to mine. My arms flew around his neck as I kissed him back. 

Stan was passionate. It was a slow dance of tongues and lips and teeth. He pulled back and looked into my eyes before kissing my cheek, then my jaw, then the side of my neck. He sucked slightly and nipped at me until I let out a soft groan. I ran my fingers into his hair and gripped slightly. He pulled away and smirked.

"If you'd have told me all I had to do to kiss you was to throw you into the mud, I would've done it sooner." I couldn't think. I just kissed him again. 

Stan made my head spin. Great kisser, gentle with my feelings, and lately he's been such a gentleman that I can hardly believe it's the same person. Except when he starts leading a tour and the con artist comes out. Then I remember who I'm dating.

We loaded back into the car and I let him drive home as long as he promised to stay on the road and go slow. Part of me was itching to ask him something, but I didn't want to spring it on him. What if he didn't like the idea?

"Hey, Stan?" I was starting to feel shy all of a sudden. 

"Hmm? What's up, doll?"

"What do you want to be for Halloween? It's in a week. I don't know know if you dress up, but I think it would be cool to run a haunted house in the shack." He grinned and reached out to grip my thigh.

"I love Halloween! It's a huge deal here! I was going to be a vampire or something. Do you have any ideas? All of us could dress up to match, or we could be different monsters if you wanted." I was surprised he liked dressing up.

"Well... we could be monsters, that sounds fun. So, vampire? Frankenstein's monster? Mummies?" He squeezed my thigh before putting his hand back on the wheel.

"I haven't been Frankenstein in years. Mostly because no one will help me with the green makeup. Think you're up to the challenge?" I nodded.

"Only if you help me with my costume." 

"You got a deal, kid. So, what's your idea?" I grinned.

"I can't tell you yet. But I'm going to need the day off tomorrow to go into the city. Gotta get supplies. I'll pick up some stuff for your costume, too." 

"Do you need some money? I can send you with my wallet as long as you promise not to spend too much." I was shocked, to say the least.

"Stan Pines, you once asked me to reimburse you fifty cents for a packet of ketchup! Why would you give me your entire wallet?" He chuckled as we turned into the drive of our little cabin.

"Well, fine. I'll keep my money and not pay you back for the costumes!" I huffed and crossed my arms. He leaned over to kiss me before getting out. I tried to open my door, but he pushed it shut again and pointed at me through the window.

"When I'm around, doll, you do not open your own car door! It's a man's job to pamper his lady!" He pulled the door open and offered a hand. 

Once we were inside, showered, and cozy, we snuggled up on the couch and watched another episode of Downton Abbey. 

I must have passed out in the middle of it, because when my eyes opened, it was quiet in the house and Stan had pulled a blanket over the two of us. He was laying on the sofa with me on top of him, my head on his chest, and his arms around me like I was his teddy bear.

I tried to get up, but he gripped me tighter and his eyes fluttered open. 

"Where you goin', doll?" I snuggled into his chest again and smiled. "Need to go to bed?" I nodded. He let me get up and he stretched as he stood. His back popped in too many places to be comfortable. I walked to my room and he started to go into his own, but stopped and turned to come join me in my bed.

He took up most of the full mattress, but I managed to cuddle up to him and use his arm as a pillow. He was so warm in the cold house. We fell asleep quickly wrapped up in one another.

He saw me out the door in the morning with a kiss on the cheek and his wallet. No cards, cash only, and don't give anything to panhandlers. Those were his rules.

Since it was Saturday, I swung by Wendy's and offered to take her. She didn't have any older sisters to hang out with, so I felt like it was my job to be the big sister to her.

She hopped into my car and buckled up before we sped off towards the highway.

"Why do you have Mr. Pines' wallet?" She asked, eyeing the folded leather in the center console of my Camry. Do I tell her? I thought better of it.

"Oh, I'm picking up some stuff for him while we're in town and he handed it to me. He feels kinda guilty about paying me half, I guess." Her eyes widened.

"He's only paying you half? Damn! Even I make more than you!" I shrugged.

"For free housing and food, I'd let him pay me nothing. Especially if he keeps handing over his wallet like this." She shrugged.

"So, what are you guys going to be for Halloween? You said something earlier about doing a Haunted Shack?" I grinned and nodded.

"Stan wants to be Frankenstein's monster, so I was thinking something similar. Matching costumes, ya know?" 

"Isn't that like... a couples thing more than a roommate thing?" I couldn't fight the blush on my cheeks. It would be the death of me someday. "Oh my god!" She shrieked and covered her mouth. "You and Stan?! He's a total grandpa!" I bit my lip and giggled nervously. "Are you serious?"

I nodded and stared at the road ahead of us. 

"How do you even... like... Like someone like him? He's a total con man, and he's old enough to be your dad!" I was getting tired of hearing that.

"He's really sweet, Wendy! And I think he's cute." She faked a gag and laughed. "Make fun all you want, but he's basically a big teddy bear and he loves to cuddle." 

"I'm sorry, I respect your relationship, but it's just weird! I've known Stan my whole life and he's always been super gruff. I mean, he was nice to me because he thinks I'm a little lady or something, but I've seen him get pretty nasty with people."

"... can I tell you something gross?" I asked her. I was bursting to talk to someone about it! She nodded. "Stan's a great kisser." 

"Ew! I did NOT want to know that!" She squealed. We talked and laughed the whole way to the mall.

Once there, we went to a party supply store to find cheap scare stuff, party lights, and I even found a Frankenstein makeup set for Stan. I looked forward to painting him green.

We grabbed lunch in the food court and I let her go into another costume store while I eyed the lingerie store next door. Maybe Stan would like a surprise? 

I slipped into Veronica's Top Drawer and looked at a few displays. The thongs looked more like dental floss and the bras looked like the underwire would call me trashy. I looked at a few sets, then at the night gowns. 

I grabbed a black lace one that came down to my upper thigh. The sheer fabric was cool to the touch. Next I walked to the back where they had a themed display, along with a few sex toys. The theme was Monstrous Beauties, and the first one I saw was the bride of Frankenstein. Dark green with white webbing. It looked promising. I grabbed one in my size and pulled out my own wallet for it. 

As an afterthought, I threw in a vibrator. I didn't have mine anymore and sometimes a girl needs to have some fun. I met back up with Wendy while she was looking at zombie costumes.

"Is that what I think it is?" She eyed the bag. I grinned.

"None of your business, missy. So, what are you gonna be?" I pulled a bride of Frankenstein makeup kit off a shelf. "Maybe... a slasher lumberjack?" She rolled her eyes. "Ooh! How about a devil?" I pointed out the costume and she tapped her chin.

"Since you two are going for classic horror, maybe I should be.... Dracula? Oh! Soos can be the Wolf Man! I know his size." She grabbed two costumes and I snagged a couple gallons of fake blood.

"Think you and your dad can make some wooden tombstones for some decorations?" She agreed and at checkout, I used Stan's money to pay. I felt weird, having a man's wallet when he wasn't with me. He trusted me with it, I guess.

On the drive back home, Wendy kept pestering me with questions about Stan.

"So, is he like... your sugar daddy?" I laughed out loud and shook my head.

"No! He handed me his wallet one time! He's just... I like him. We have similar interests. He likes period dramas and being outside. He promised to take me fishing when it gets warmer."

I dropped Wendy off at the lumber mill and brought all the costumes back to the Mystery Shack. Stan was about to start another tour. I decided I would sit in on it for once, and took a spot at the back. He hadn't noticed me yet.

He led us through the shed out back and showed off some fake exhibits, tricked some people into thinking he had a magical amulet, and called for a volunteer to touch it. I raised my hand.

"What does the amulet do?" I asked. He chuckled and cleared his throat.

"It uh... it makes the person who touches it fall madly in love with you while you're holding it!" A few people raised their hands, but Stan called on me. Dishonest, much? 

I waltzed up and he held the amulet out to me. I took hold of the copper pendant and looked him in the eyes. He grinned and a blush formed on my cheeks.

To play into it, I stepped closer to him and ran my free hand up his chest and batted my lashes at me. He let out a laugh as I cupped his cheek and I tugged him down to kiss me. He quickly pulled away and I dropped the part I was holding. The people gasped and clapped.

"See? Dangerous magic! Sorry about that, young lady." I batted my lashes at him and he finished off the tour in the gift shop. I went to my car to get the bags out and I hid my costume in my closet, threw the underwear into the laundry, and started cooking dinner.

It was nearly ready when Stan came in. He left his fez by the door and came up behind me while I stirred the soup. His arms wrapped around my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder. 

"How was your day, doll?" I turned and kissed his cheek.

"Great. I took Wendy with me, and we came up with ideas for the haunted tour. She's going to make some wooden tombstones and all of us are going to dress up as classic horror monsters. Frankenstein, Wolfman, a Mummy, things like that." He nodded approvingly. "How was your day? Make any money?"

"Of course! I always do. Gonna need some new attractions, but I'll do that in the off season. In winter, we're pretty much shut down thanks to all the snow. It's a good break. And I make enough in the summer and fall to support it." I served up two bowls of soup and left the rest to cool so I could freeze it later. Meal prep has become more important to me lately. Maybe it's because I'm used to cooking for more people, or maybe because I'm paranoid that I'll be left alone with nothing. Either way, we have something to eat later on.

After a quick dinner and tossing the laundry in the dryer, I went to wash the day off of myself. I thought back to my new toy and realized something. 

I used to dread the idea of someone thinking I had any kind of sexuality, until I met Stan. I wanted him to see me as someone desirable. Before him, I didn't even like being touched. Now, I didn't want him to keep his hands off of me. I was going out of my way to be touched and seen by him.

I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom to go check the dryer. Done! As I bent over, I heard Stan whistle and I shot up. He laughed and I felt him come up behind me.

"I didn't think I'd get that kind of treat today. Is that my reward for paying for your girls day?" I turned and gave him an innocent look.

"Oh, you haven't gotten your reward yet, Stud. Give me a few minutes, and I'll see if I can get that heart of yours going." He kissed my forehead.

"You don't have to try to do that, sugar. But go ahead. I'll be on the couch." I grabbed the lingerie from the dryer, threw the matching set into my closet next to my costume, and pulled the nightie on, along with a black thong I already had. Time to make that man's heart stop.

I wrapped up in my blanket and waddled to the living room, where Stan sat with our Downton Abbey dvd ready to go. He grinned.

"Awe, you're cute. Come here, sugarpot." I grinned and took off the blanket, tossing it to the couch. His mouth opened for a moment before he quickly closed it and pulled the blanket over his lap. "What's... uh... what're you wearing?" I giggled and took my seat next to him.

"Just being comfy again. So, what episode are we on?" His arm came around me and I turned so my back was against his side and my feet were on the seat next to me. If he moved his arm right, he would be grabbing my tits. I let my head rest back on his shoulder. 

"Uh... huh? What?" I giggled and grabbed his hand to hold it.

"What's wrong, Stud? See something you like?"

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Chapter 6: Stan is a Munch, Change My Mind

Note: This is the first of many smut chapters. This will be your last warning, this gets gratuitous.

Stan didn't pay much attention to our nightly routine after I walked out in that nightie. He stayed as still as possible while I rested against him. When the episode ended, I was playing with the hairs on his arm, twirling them together and smoothing them out. 

With no warning, I took his hand and placed it over my breast. He jumped and pulled his hand away. 

"What are you doing, kid?" I turned to him and grinned.

"Rewarding you," I purred. I climbed into his lap and bent down to kiss him. His hands rested respectfully on my waist. He kissed me back softly. His five o'clock shadow scratched my neck just right when he moved to kiss my jaw. I ran my hands up his chest, his neck, and into his soft hair. He was still in his Mr. Mystery suit with his tie hanging undone around his neck. 

"Have I ever told you how hot you are in this suit?" I asked. He chuckled and nipped at my neck again. "It makes me crazy." His hands slid from my waist to my ass so he could thumb the hem of my skimpy gown.

"Did I pay for this?" He asked. I shook my head and wiggled in his lap to get some friction going. His head tilted back and his breath hitched.

"If you did, it wouldn't be much of a present for you." He gave me a sly smile.

"I'm paying for the next one." He leaned up and nibbled the shell of my ear before whispering, "I like this on you. And I can't wait to see what it looks like on on the fucking floor." My stomach fluttered and my heart sped up. This old man could talk dirty! He gripped my ass and let his head fall back and he helped me grind on his lap. His erection pressed up at me. He pushed and pulled me against it as we kissed. I took his glasses and set them aside, and Stan pressed his face between my tits and inhaled deeply.

"God, you smell amazing!" His scratchy voice went straight to my pussy. He halted my desperate grinding and looked up at me with a smirk. "Are we just going to dry hump like teenagers, or are we gonna get to it?" My flushed face felt even more heated. He was asking permission? I can't remember the last time my partner asked permission to have sex with me.

In the time we had been together, this was the closest we've ever gotten to sex. My thong was soaked through and I could see my arousal leaving a dark spot on his slacks. I reached down and started to unbutton his shirt. He rested his hands on my hips as I revealed all his chest hair and his gold chain. I pushed the shirt from his shoulders and ran my hands up through his chest hair, tugging gently on the longer strands. He let out a soft sigh. I gripped his gold chain and he opened his eyes to see me pulling him into another heated kiss. His grip on my ass tightened and his tongue darted into my mouth to explore. I ran my hands down his chest again while he pulled at the nightgown roughly. I felt the thin fabric start to rip.

What a waste of thirty bucks. He ripped the rest of the garment from me so the straps of it slid down my arms. His eyes widened when he saw my bare chest. I pulled it from my arms and tossed it to the floor, just for him.

His hands came up to cup my breasts and he tweaked my nipples with his thumbs. I twitched under his touch and my pussy throbbed with the need to have him in me. He sucked one of my nipples into his mouth and I let my head fall back as I moaned.

"God, Stan!" I whimpered. He chuckled darkly.

"That's what I like to hear, baby." One of his hands slid down between us and tugged my thong to the side. Then he gripped me by the thighs and stood up, turned, and dropped me onto the sofa.

The fireplace behind him cast shadows over his exposed chest and his ruffled hair. His strong arms and the hickeys I had left on his neck made him look like a dangerous man, but then he knelt in front of me and put his hands on my knees.

"Show me how you like to touch yourself, doll. Show me what I do to you." He rubbed his hands up my thighs and grabbed my panties before slowly dragging them down my legs. He pressed them to his face and inhaled deeply before shoving them into his pocket. "Well? Use those fingers, show me what you like." 

I was shy about this. He must have seen my hesitation, because he leaned up and kissed me again. "I want to know what you like so I can make you feel good, baby." Stan took my hand and guided it down between my legs. Then he grabbed my ankles and pushed my legs up so my feet were on the sofa, making me spread my legs to accommodate the position. It made my stomach fold and roll and Stan grinned lecherously at my pussy. 

I slowly started to work my middle finger in a circle around my clit. Stan watched as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. I dipped a finger into my hole and pulled more arousal out before circling my clit again. With his hands, he pulled my pussy lips apart so he could watch everything.

I started to go faster and I was writhing under my own touch and his hard gaze. Somehow, having him watch was more erotic than if he did this himself. I saw him lick his lips. He looked up and locked eyes with me to make sure I was watching when his tongue darted out and licked a stripe up through me. I whimpered and kept moving my fingers and circling my clit. He licked through me again before he grabbed my wrist to stop me from making myself come. I whined at him.

He sucked my fingers into his mouth to clean the arousal off of them. 

"Hands in my hair, doll," he growled. I obeyed and he ducked down to circle my clit with his tongue. One of his large fingers pushed into me and I gripped his hair by the roots to keep myself from moaning out loud. He pulled his mouth away from me for a moment. "I want to hear you, baby. I want to hear what I do to you." He dove back in and thrust two fingers into me quickly. The stretch of them made me fear what his cock would do.

Stan latched onto my clit and sucked at it hard before laving his tongue over it repeatedly. My hips bucked and my whimpers were getting louder. Every flick over my clit, every curl of his fingers, every satisfied grunt from his throat pushed me closer and closer to the edge.

"God, baby, you taste so good."

All at once, the knot in my stomach snapped and I screamed while he continued to thrust his fingers into me and curl against my g-spot. I felt myself clench around him and I fisted his hair hard as I rode the wave of my orgasm. My throat was sore and my body was spasming with aftershocks. He had a satisfied grin on his face. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and sat back. My feet dropped to the floor and I covered my face to try and regain some composure.

"That's my girl." I heard him get up and go wash his hands before he returned and dropped onto the sofa next to me. His clothes were still on and the tent in his pants was still present. I reached a hand out, but he gripped my wrist.

"Not yet, doll. This was a reward for me, right? Well, I got my reward. Next time, I promise I'll let you. Now, do you want a shower or do you want to go to bed like that?" I didn't want to move at all. No one had ever made me come so hard. Even though it was only once, it was intense. And he didn't want anything in return. 

He finally convinced me to get up and go take a shower. He hopped in after me and by the time he came into my room, I was snuggled up in bed. He was in his boxers and wife beater. He set his glasses on the bedside table and climbed in next to me.

It seemed we would be sharing a room for a while.

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Chapter 7: So... About That...

We shut down the Shack two days before Halloween to set up. Wendy was in charge of putting up the posters around town while Stan, Soos and I set up the scares and traps in the shack and the shed outside.

"So, you gonna tell me what your costume is, doll?" Stan asked while we hammered the wooden headstones into the ground. I grinned.

"I told you already, you'll have to wait to find out!" He huffed.

"And what if I bust in on you while you're putting it on? I'll find out that way." I crossed my arms and looked up at him.

"You do that, and you don't get any treat at the end of the night." He gasped.

"But... but it's Halloween! I'm supposed to get a treat!" 

"It's called trick or treat. And if you pull that stunt, no treat. You can't have both, Stan." Soos walked by as we were talking.

"Woah! A treat? What kind? Can I have one too? I promise I'll be good on Halloween! What's the treat, Jess?" I blushed and stammered while Stan rubbed his hand over his face in frustration.

"No, Soos... not... oh god!" I covered my face. I knew better than to flirt with Stan in front of people, but I couldn't help myself! The only person who knew about us was Wendy. Otherwise, we kept it a secret. Both of us agreed to it. So why did I have to go and blab in front of Soos?!

"Oh, is it a roommate secret? Like his treat is that he gets the remote?" Thank you for being stupid, Soos!

"Yes! Yeah, it's like that. Stan, if you aren't nice on Halloween, you don't get the remote for a week." Soos seemed satisfied with that and went back to hanging spider webs.

I went into the house and Stan followed behind me quickly. I felt his hand come down on my ass quickly and I whirled to see him grinning.

"Almost told on us, doll," he said with a sly grin. I glared at him.

"If you weren't so damn irritating, I wouldn't have said anything!" I was flustered and mad and Stan was laughing about it!

"Aw, you're cute when you're all red!" I let out a groan and reach up to grab his ear to shake his head. He laughed more. "Stop it! Oh, my side!" 

"You're so mean!" I growled out. He chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"And you're cute when you're mad at me." He tilted my chin up as I glared. "You gonna stay mad, or can I kiss ya?" 

I still glared at him, but I grabbed his tie and yanked him down to meet my lips. The kiss was quick, but he still grinned like he won. Stan took my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He reached under his shirt and pulled off his gold chain before stepping behind me and clasping it around my neck. I touched it and gave a puzzled look in the mirror.

"What's this for?" He shrugged. 

"I uh... I guess I don't mind people knowin' about us, y'know? Unless you don't want them to! I totally understand if you don't want to be seen with this old shyster." My anger slowly evaporated and I leaned back to rest against him. His hands found my hips and he kissed just behind my ear.

"I'd love to tell people, Stan. Maybe just... ease into it. Wouldn't want everyone in town thinking I'm after your money. Or that you're a pervy old man." He chuckled and squeezed my ass before he kissed down my neck and bit down on me. My head fell back and I let out a soft moan. Why did I let him give me so many hickeys? At this point, he was taking advantage of my kindness.

"You are a pervy old man," I accused. He kissed my cheek one more time and led me back out into the shack. My vision was coming along nicely!

I grabbed some fake blood and a paintbrush so I could start slapping it onto the windows. 

Handprints, strips that look like someone got their throat cut, and a few splatters on the door later, it was perfect! 

Soos and I admired our handiwork before going inside for a couple beers. 

"That's a cool chain, Jess," Soos said. I blushed. "You and Stan trying to match or something?" 

"Something like that," Stan laughed as he dropped next to me on the sofa and handed me a drink. He threw his arm over the back of the couch. "Great work today, both of ya." 

"So, uh... Jess. Since Halloween is in a couple days and we're closed tomorrow, I was wondering.... would you want to... uh... maybe catch a movie tomorrow night? With me? Like a date?" My heart twisted. I didn't want to hurt Soos' feelings! Stan's Hans came down on my shoulder. 

"Uh, Soos? Not... not as a date. Sorry. I don't feel that way about you. I'd still love to go, just... as friends. I can't date you." He looked sad.

"Is it my looks?" How insecure was this guy? 

"No! Not at all. I'm just... I'm seeing someone. And I really like him and we've been together for a month already." I looked over at Stan and he looked touched.

"Who is it? I can ask his permission!" Good God!

"I don't need permission to go with a friend, Soos." He put a hand up.

"No, no. A man once taught me that I should ask permission before treating someone else's lady to a good time." That sounded like something Stan would say, actually. "So, who is it so I can ask permission?" I felt Stan's grip on my arm tightened.

"She doesn't belong to anyone like that, Soos. I'm sure her boyfriend wouldn't care. You're a super trustworthy guy." Did Stan not want to tell Soos? "Here's an idea. Just watch a movie here! I got plenty of old horror movies." Soos seemed to like that idea. "Here, let's throw one in now! I got this DvD of a newer one that Jess was talking about." He popped it into the player and I made popcorn.

I took up my spot next to Stan, but didn't snuggle like I wanted to. Soos sat on the floor in front of us. 

The opening to Paranormal Activity played and I grinned.

"I didn't think you'd remember! I've been wanting to see this since it came out, but Brandon never let me. Said it would invite evil into the house or something." Stan gripped my hand. It occurred to me that I had mentioned my ex by name and didn't feel scared. Maybe I was getting over it.

The first jump scare didn't get me. The movie seemed kind of cheesy. I wasn't a huge fan of found footage films. Soos was glued to it and Stan eventually got me to relax and I let him fiddle with my hair while I snuggled into him. 

Th final big scare of the movie actually surprised me, and I yelped when I jumped and hid my face in Stan's neck. He chuckled and held me tighter. I was practically sitting in his lap when the credits rolled. Soos stood up and stretched. I tried to scramble out of Stan's lap, but he held me firm.

"You move, you're gonna show him what you do to me, doll," he whispered. I felt his erection brush my arm and I blushed. Soos turned to face us and his eyes widened.

"Dude! Her boyfriend is gonna be mad if he finds out about that! Why're you cuddled up with him?" My cheeks were a bright red. Stan grinned and kissed my temple.

"Her boyfriend doesn't mind at all. In fact, he likes it very much." I didn't know what to say. "Soos, ya look confused. It's me. Stan is her boyfriend. Me. She's my girl. And I don't care if the two of you hang out. You're a good kid." I detached myself from Stan and ran to my room. I locked the door behind me and curled up on the floor against it.

This is so embarrassing! I didn't want to tell Soos like that! He deserved better. And he looked so hurt!

A while later after I stopped crying, someone knocked on my door.

"Sweetie, you okay? Can I come in?" I sniffed.

"No, I'm mad at you!" I called back. I heard Stan sigh, then I heard him sit on the floor, and felt the door shift when he sat against it. "Why did you tell him that way? You hurt his feelings."

"It woulda been worse if he found out another way," he said. "Soos is tough. He's not even upset. He actually congratulated me on finding someone who can put up with me." I wiped my eyes. "I just... I wanna show you off, you know? You're great and I want everyone to see it. I also want to rub their noses in it! They said I could never make a woman happy!" I cracked a smile and reach up to unlock the door.

He came in and scooped me off the floor. Until dating Stan, I didn't think an old man could have the strength for it, but he must work out or something.

I giggled as he dropped me onto the bed and climbed over me to pepper my face with kisses.

"No more cryin' sugar," he ordered between kisses. I was a giggling mess by the time he was done and I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him. He was propped up on his hands. I laid back again and Stan wiggled his eyebrows at me before yanking the covers over us and disappearing under them.

I felt him press his nose into my crotch and my hands shot down to grip his hair. I whimpered as he started rubbing my clit through my shorts. 

"Stan, please!" I hear him chuckle under the quilt.

"What're you begging me for? Use your words, princess."  He hooked his finger into my shorts and started to pull them down. I lifted my hips for him. "Oh, you're so good to me." I couldn't see him, but I could feel him. His tongue licking through my folds, his teeth biting my inner thighs, his lips suckling my clit. His fingers slipping into me and curling just right. I was writhing under his touch and my hips bucked with every circle of my clit.

I tugged his hair and my eyes screwed shut as I came around his hand.

"God, Staaan!" My body was still spasming when he pulled his fingers out of me and crawled up to poke his head out of the blanket. He kissed my neck before licking his fingers. I reached up to stroke a hand down his face.

"Will you let me touch you yet?" I asked. He hummed and kissed me again. He was nervous about me seeing him naked.

"Tell you what. Keep the lights off and don't look, and I'll let ya ride the stallion." I reached up to the light switch by the bed and flicked it. The only light was the moon coming through the window. I saw Stan smile. "You really want this? Okay, you win. Gotta warn you, though. I can still buck like a racehorse." 

He got off of me and I covered my face while he undressed. I felt the bed dip again and the blanket moved. I looked to see Stan laying next to me under the quilt. He looked nervous. I grinned and sat up to take my shirt off. 

I moved to straddle his lap and I reached between us. He closed his eyes as I stroked his cock. I kept my eyes on his face. The feel of him wasn't what I expected. 

He was... bigger than I thought he would be. He gripped my hips while I stroked him and he bit his lip.

"Shit, your hand is nice. God, why did I put this off?" I leaned down to kiss him and lifted my hips up to position myself. "Okay. Okay. Warning you, I might not last long." I didn't say anything. I just sunk down onto his cock and let him stretch me.

The feeling was nothing like I expected. Stan held onto my hips tight as I sunk down and his cock bumped against my cervix when I bottomed out. I couldn't help the groan that came out of me. 

"Don't... don't move, hon." Stan was breathing hard. "I'm not gonna last!" I adjusted to his size and when he opened his eyes, he smiled at me. "Can I roll us over?" I nodded and pulled off of him, laid down, and let him climb over me.

His strong hands rested on either side of my head and I blind reached down under the sheet to grip his cock again and guide him in. He nearly whimpered at the tightness.

"Goddamn! So... so warm and.... God, and tight!" I turned my head and bit his hand lightly. He leaned down and rested on his elbows. We were chest to chest with each other as he started to thrust his hips slowly. Halfway out, then all the way in. Every slow movement had me whimpering as Stan's eyes bored into mine.

"You like bein' fucked by this old man?" I bit my lip and nodded as he thrust harder, faster. "You want me to cum I'm this tight puss of yours?" 

I felt my own release building quickly. His thrusts were harder and the sound of the headboard beating into the wall and our grunts filled the room. He lifted a hand and twisted one of my nipples to make me cry out. "Answer me, doll. You want me to cum in that hole and make it mine?" 

"God, yes, Stan!" I screamed. He thrusted harder and I clenched around his cock as I screamed and came. He let out a groan and his hips stilled. Hot come spilled into me and Stan panted above me. He pressed his sweaty forehead to mine and chuckled.

"Dammit, doll. You really know how to take it outta me." He pulled his flaccid dick from inside me and pulled the quilt against him as he laid down. Then he pulled me into him and spooned me. His face was buried in my hair.

"Why couldn't I look?" I asked. "It felt really good." His grip on me tightened.

"I just... didn't want you to see somethin' you didn't like. I was nervous that you would change your mind if you saw what I was packin'." I giggled and snuggled into his arm.

"Never, Stud. I'm obsessed with you! Nothing you show me could drive me away at this point." It's not like I hadn't seen his legs before, he walks around in his boxers! I settled in and listened for his breathing to even out before I took a deep breath and slid out of his arms.

I needed to get cleaned up before the cum on my thighs crusted over!

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Chapter 8: The Halloween Special!

Halloween morning, we were buzzing around the Shack to make sure everything was perfect. The first tour would be at noon, so we were pressed for time to get ready. Stan was halfway into his costume when I came in to paint his face and neck. He smiled at me.

"Are you wearing my robe?" I grinned and nodded.

"Don't want you peeking. Stand still while I do this. You used that face wash I gave you, right? I don't want your baby skin breaking out under all this makeup. He rolled his eyes and dropped onto my vanity stool. I had gotten this vanity with my first paycheck. I was tired of finding my makeup shoved into the drawer in the bathroom.

I smeared the pale green paint onto his cheek, then his nose, then his forehead, and when it was all smooth, I did his neck and hands, then his wrists and arms up to the elbow just in case his sleeves rode up. I sprayed them with a setting spray and fanned him dry.

"Is this what you women do with your makeup? Spray it and dry it to make it stay put? It's smart." I shushed him while I grabbed the bolts out of the makeup kit and stuck them to him with eyelash glue. Then I painted on some realistic looking scars and had him look in the mirror. "Wow! All I'm missing is the black hair, and I look like the monster! Thanks, doll." He pulled me down to kiss my cheek. "So, do I get the honor of helping you into your makeup?" I shook my head.

"You have to go finish getting dressed in your own room, mister. This is special to me. I want to see your face when I walk out in my costume! And it better knock your socks off!" I pushed him from the room and untied the robe. Under it was the Frankenstein themed pantie set I got at the mall. I started with my hair. Silver streaks and a lot of teasing later, my bat's nest was ready. I didn't need to color my skin for it, just add some scarring and lipstick. Then came the skimpy dress to go with the outfit. It was made to look like a wedding dress that was ripped up in specific spots to expose some skin and make it look like I was a corpse. I looked in the mirror and smiled. I hope he likes it. 

At 11:45 am, I walked out of my room and down the stairs. Stan was waiting impatiently by the door. He was checking his watch over and over and peeking through the door. I cleared my throat and when he turned, he stopped dead.

Stan's eyes scanned over me in wonder. I smiled at him and walked closer.

"Bride of Frankenstein... I like it." He pulled me in by my hips and I giggled as he peppered my face in kisses. I pushed him gently and we walked out into the gift shop. Soos the Wolfman and Wendy the Vampire were waiting, and looked shocked at the two of us.

"Is that what you were hiding at the mall? Nice! Still a little gross, though. Can't imagine letting Stan that close to me." I stuck my tongue out at Wendy, who giggled and came over to take a selfie with all of us. Stan had his arm around me and I clung to the front of his shirt. Soos squatted to look like more of a wolf, and Wendy bared her plastic fangs in a wicked grin. We broke apart, but not before I leaned up to whisper in Stan's ear.

"If you do good today, there's more to this costume that's just for you to see." Considering he was still complaining about his joints hurting after our last little romp in the hay, I didn't think he would get excited. But he grinned at me and bent down to kiss me quickly before straightening his tie and waltzing to the door with the confidence of a young man in a frat.

"Seriously, Jess," Wendy sighed as she tapped away on her phone, "how do you let him kiss you? He's so old!" I giggled and boosted myself to sit on the counter. I could hear Stan giving a spiel about how scary this haunted shack was. 

"He just... He's just so sweet to me. I don't know. I don't think he's that bad. And he's great in bed." That last part slipped out and I slapped my hand over my mouth. Wendy gagged and pretended to faint.

"Did not want to know that! Ew! Now I'm going to be thinking about it! No!" I laughed and walked out to where the tour was taking place. I had to jump out and scare people near the end.

"... and, be sure to watch yourselves! We are entering my lair! Beware my bride, for she will attack any she finds more beautiful than her!" That was my cue. I pushed the door open so it creaked slowly and stepped out dramatically, casting my gaze around the room. Many young women were there, so I could do my part.

I raised an angry hand and pointed in the women's general direction, then screamed as I ran at them. Stan quickly jumped between them and me while the girls cowered and cried out.

"Bride, back! Back to your chambers! None are more fair than you. Back, I say!" I screamed as he manhandled me and slammed the door with a dramatic flourish. I banged on it and roared at the crowd until they moved on. That was fun!

After the next four tours, we shut it down for trick or treating. I had a bowl of candy ready by the front door, the porch light was on, and I was waiting patiently. Stan thought it was cute, but I was determined to hand out candy this year! I hadn't gotten to do it in a long time. Not since Brandon and I started living together.

After three hours of handing out candy, I turned off the porch light. I was halfway through with taking off my makeup when someone else knocked on the door. Stan was in the bathroom, so I went to get it.

Instead of seeing a little kid in a costume, I was face to face with a man I definitely didn't want to see.

Shit.

I backed up and tried to slam the door, but he pushed his way inside.

"What are you doing, living in this shack baby?" Brandon demanded. 

"How did you find me?" I asked. I was still backing up, towards the stairs. I knew where Stan kept the bat he used for defense. He pulled his phone out and showed me Wendy's InstaShot post with all of us, with me tagged as being at the Mystery Shack.

"Soon as I saw that, I got on the next flight to Oregon. Crazy how quick you can get to the person you love." I wrapped my fist around the bat and stood still. "You're coming home, baby." I shook my head.

"This is my home. I'm not leaving. Get out." He smirked at me and put his hands on either side of the door frame. "Please," I begged. He laughed.

"Still begging! Babe, I haven't seen you in months. I was worried sick! And I find you here in a house that smells like cigarettes and old man cologne! What, you shacking up with an old geezer as payment for a place to crash? God, you've always been such a whore." As soon as the words left his mouth, I pulled out the bat and swung with a scream. It connected with his arm when he threw it up to shield his head.

"Jess! You okay? I'm comin', doll!" Stan shouted from upstairs. I heard his running footsteps and I swung the bat again. This time, Brandon caught it and yanked it from my grasp.

"You are living with an old man! I knew it! C'mon. You're coming home." He grabbed my wrist and I grabbed onto the railing of the stairs.

"No! Leave me alone!" I shrieked. I kicked at him, but he held on tight no matter how many times I made contact with his side and knee. Stan was bounding down the stairs and I saw the glint of metal before I heard an impact. Brandon let me go and yelled before charging at me. I ducked his swing and Stand yanked me behind him. Brass knuckles were shining on his hands. One of them had fresh blood on it. Fuck, why is that hot?!?

"You heard the lady," Stan growled. "Now, get outta my house!" Brandon charged at Stan and swung with the bat, but Stan took the blow on his brass knuckles. "Get upstairs, sugar. Papa's gonna have to take care of this one."

"Listen, old man," Brandon spat. "My fight ain't with you. Just let me take her home, and I'll leave you alone. Keep my girl from me, and I'll fucking kill you." Stan laughed.

"I'd like to see you try! At this point, I think I'm immortal. Oh, and she isn't your girl. Last I checked, I'm the one she's been cuddled up with every night, and I'm the one fucking her!" I gripped Stan's sleeve and tugged him. "Not now, sugarpot."

"Stan stop it. I don't want you to get hurt!" He turned to me with a sad look in his eyes.

"But... But this jackass is trying to make you leave." I sniffed and stepped out from behind Stan.

"I don't want to go with you. But I don't want you to hurt Stan." Brandon lowered the bat and laughed.

"Okay. Okay, sure babe. You come back to Arizona with me, and I'll leave gramps here alone." I turned back to look at Stan and winked at him. He looked confused and sad, but in his eyes I saw that he got the message.

"Can I get a few minutes alone with him to say goodbye?" Brandon scoffed. "Please? If I do, I'll go without a fight." 

"Fine. You got ten minutes. I'll be on the porch." As soon as the door was shut, Stan grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"I ain't lettin' him take you. You're all I got," Stan whispered. I hugged him back and fought the tears in my eyes. "We can come up with a plan." I pulled out my phone and called Wendy.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did Stan have a heart attack?"

"Wendy, how quick can you get here with your dad and an ax? My ex is in town trying to drag me back to Arizona and I am not going." I heard her shout on the other end for her dad to get "the big one."

"Six minutes. Maybe five if I drive." I hung up and looked back up at Stan.

"What are you thinking?" I pulled him down for a quick kiss.

"Wendy and I made a pact that if Brandon comes to town, her dad scares the shit out of him." Stan grinned.

"That's my girl! So, what now? What do we do to stall for time?" I wrapped my arms around his waist and took a deep breath. 

"I guess... call the cops. He's trespassing, right?" He rolled his eyes.

"Those two dumbasses aren't going to show up until tomorrow morning!"

"They might if we say he assaulted an innocent young lady," I pointed out. He rubbed his chin before walking to the landline and dialing.

As soon as he hung up, Brandon stormed back in.

"Time's up. Get your shit. We're going home." I threw a punch at his eye as soon as he grabbed my arm, landing it hard and making him stumble back. "Dammit, Jess! We're going! Now!" Stan put his hands on my shoulders and held me firmly in place.

"The lady said she isn't going. Leave her alone and get out of my house!" Brandon let out a dark chuckle.

"Okay. That's enough. I'm not gonna play nice anymore, old timer." He raised the bat and Stan shoved me away before throwing his arms up to block the blow. He yelled as a sharp crack sounded at the contact. Stan pulled back a fist and swung at Brandon, landing a brass punch to the jaw.

I tried to wrestle the bat from him, kicking and punching at him to get him to let go, but Brandon's fist connected with my eye and sent me to my ass on the floor. I held my eye and fought the tears that welled. Stan screamed as he landed blow after blow on Brandon's face and chest until the younger man had backed out of the door and fallen into the dirt, words punctuating each blow.

"Don't. You. Ever. Touch. My. Girl." Stan stood imposingly in the doorway as Brandon tried to get back in, but the wild shrieking of a lumberjack echoed from the woods. The sound bounced around the trees and created a terrifying cacophony of screaming. Brandon looked around frantically, eyes landing on the burly man running out from the trees, an ax raised above his head and his eyes boring into Brandon.

Brandon tried to get inside, but Stan shoved him back into the dirt. Just as Dan made it to the porch, the lights and sirens of the local officer car filled the clearing.

"What in the sam hill is going on here?" Officer Blubs asked. 

"This jackass from outta town busted into my house and beat up on my woman," Stan growled out. He pulled me into his side to show my already bruising face. "Manly Dan here is my witness. Also Wendy." Wendy ran into the house and hugged me. She cupped my face and dragged me over to the fridge to grab a bag of frozen peas to put over the bruise.

The officers threw Brandon in the back of the cruiser, took statements, and left. Stan looked pissed. 

"Thanks for comin', Dan," Stan said. The two men shook hands and the red heads left. The door was shut and locked.

I was still halfway in my costume and Stan was still in his own suit. 

"I don't think that's the last we're gonna see of Mr. Dreamboat," he said. I pulled the frozen veggies from my eye and threw my arms around Stan. He held me tight. "Don't worry, doll. No one is takin' you from me any time soon."

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Chapter 9: Moving Up, Moving On

Stan never came to bed last night.

I got up in the morning and wrapped a throw blanket around my shoulders to go look for him. I found him on the porch, watching the sunrise with a cigar between his lips.

"What're you doing, stud?" I asked him. I dropped down next to him and draped the blanket over both of us. He held me tight.

"Just makin' sure that bastard didn't try to come back. I don't trust those two idiot cops." I snuggled into his side and shivered. He was still in his suit.

"It's okay, big man. He's not coming back. I think you and Dan scared the shit out of him enough." Stan grunted and finally looked down at me.

"How's your eye? Looks bad." I reached up to touch the swollen skin.

"Looks worse than it feels. It'll fade eventually. I'm more worried about you. Didn't he hurt you with that bat?" He shook his head.

"It takes a lot to put ol' Stan Pines outta commission." I pulled his hand into my lap and examined his scabbed knuckles. I ran a finger across them gently and I felt his hand tense under my touch.

"I thought brass knuckles were supposed to be more protective," I said. "This looks bad." I hummed.

"They are, unless you're hitting as hard as I do. That shitsack isn't coming near you again without pissing himself." 

I didn't like being a damsel in distress, but if I had to be, I'm glad Stan was my knight. If Brandon hadn't shown up last night, Stan and I would be snuggling in my bed right now, naked, and basking in the afterglow of some pretty amazing sex. But instead, we were on the porch, watching the sunrise and holding each other.

"Thank you for protecting me," I whispered. "It means a lot that you didn't want me to go." He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Why would I want you to go?" He gave me a sly grin. "Someone's gotta clean my house and drain my balls." I gasped and punched his arm.

"Rude!" He laughed and squeezed me closer to his side. "You're a filthy old man, Stan Pines." He kissed my cheek.

"You love me, though." Do I? I hadn't said it yet. We've been together for a month, living together for two. Being with Stan was fun, and it was therapeutic in a way. He was getting me to stop certain behaviors that Brandon taught me. If not for Stan, I couldn't have stood up for myself last night.

But does that equate to love? I love being around him. I love snuggling up with him on the couch like we were now. I love his jokes and his infectious smile. I love this Shack, I love his car... I even love his goofy fez.

I love the way he holds me and makes me feel special. I love that he doesn't treat me like a piece of meat. He takes my input on ways to improve the attractions and he appreciates me. He has his moments, saying some sexist things to me, but it's all jokes. I know that when push comes to shove, he wants to treat me better than I deserve. 

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I do love you." He stilled and looked back down at me. My cheeks were red. 

"You... um... wow, okay..." He rubbed the back of his neck. Uh oh. Did I just ruin it? "Uh... lemme take you to breakfast." He stood up quickly and ripped the blanket to the ground by accident.

My heart twisted in my chest. Dammit. I said it, and now he was running.

I sat as far away as I could on the El Diablo bench seat while he drove us to Greasy's. He was in khaki slacks and a disco shirt. He still insisted I wear his gold chain. I was wearing a green turtleneck and jeans. Nothing fancy. He kept glancing over at me with a worried look, but we remained silent.

We pulled into the diner and he walked around the car to let me out. He had me trained to wait for him to open my door. He offered his hand to help me out, which wasn't necessary, but I took it anyway. Always the gentleman.

He held my hand tight as we walked inside. We hadn't been this close in public yet. A couple of the regulars eyed us and whispered to one another. Stan had a huge grin on his face, and I was blushing like crazy.

We took a booth and Lazy Susan sidled up to us with a grin.

"And what can I get the happy couple today?" I stared down at my lap and Stan chuckled.

"Maybe just a couple coffees and we can split the Lumberjack Special. She's a little tired after the Halloween event yesterday. She was the star, after all!" Susan giggled.

"I know! She scared me good! And your matching costumes were so cute. Are you two doing something to Christmas too? Maybe Santa and Mrs. Clause? Ooh! Soos could be an elf!" I made a mental note of it, but stayed silent while those two talked.

Dan, who was sitting at the bar before, came up to us and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Thanks again for your help last night," Stan said. Dan nodded.

"Wendy likes this chick," he said gruffly. "Closest thing to a mother she's had in years. If you drive this one outta town, I'm holding you personally responsible for my daughter's heartbreak." Stan chuckled and looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"Then I guess I'll keep her." The bell above the door jingled and Stan glanced behind me before anger etched across his face. Dan puffed up even more. Stan stood from the booth with his fists clenched.

"Get the hell outta town, asshole," Stan snarled. I knew from the person's gait that it was Brandon.

"I'm just here to talk," he spat back. "Those idiots let me off with a fine." Stan stepped closer to me to block Brandon's path to me. "Can I talk to my fiancée, please?" My gut churned and I felt too hot. My turtleneck was choking me.

"We've been over this. She's not yours. Last I checked, she's her own damn person." I fought the tears welling in my eyes.

"Just let him talk," I said quietly. Stan turned to me with concern and hurt across his face. "Sit by me, Stan?" He into the booth next to me and Brandon took the seat across from us. Stan brought his arm around me and Dan stepped back to the bar, but stayed close enough just in case.

The air was thick with tension and I was sitting face to face with my nightmare.

"Why did you run away, baby? I didn't know where to look for you. I was terrified. How could you do that to me?" Playing the victim. Stan tried to speak, but I stopped him.

"Why did you treat me like property and hit me? Why did you keep me literally locked in our bedroom for days at a time? Why is it that the first thing you did when you saw me yesterday was try to attack us?" He glared at the two of us. Stan being here was giving me strength that I didn't know I had. "As far as I'm concerned, the wedding has been off since I left. I didn't want you to find me. I'm finally happy, and it's because I left you." He looked like he would cry.

"You know that I'm nothing without you, babygirl. Come back home with daddy. Please?" I shivered. I hated that he called himself that. 

"No. I'm not your babygirl. And I live here now. I live with Stan Pines and I'm staying with him." I folded my hands on the sticky table. "So you can accept it and move on and leave, or be an ass and get arrested for assault again. Either way, I'm staying here." His sadness changed to anger. His attention turned to Stan.

"What have you been filling her head with? She was supposed to be my wife by now, and you just had to let her shack up with you! What, did she put out to get you to agree? She's nothing but a whore, you know. She'll sleep with anyone if it gets her what she wants." Stan's grip on me tightened, as well as his grip on the edge of the table. "Oh, did she not tell you? Before we got together, she was a hooker. Are you paying her to fuck you?" 

The rings on Stan's fingers glinted in the light from the bulbs above us as he clenched his fist, but he didn't move otherwise.

"It isn't my business what she did before we met. We all have things in our past we aren't proud of. But bullying a woman just to feel more powerful? Come on, man. That's what weak men do. I don't care if she's just taking advantage of an lonely old man. She makes me happy, and I'm too old to want more out of a partner." Brandon didn't like that answer, either.

He was enraged that we were calm. "Seriously? You want to catch what she's probably got? Okay, suit yourself." Stan let out a dry laugh.

"As much trouble as I've gotten into, you should be more concerned about what I've given her!" Brandon turned his attention back to me.

"So that's it, then? After everything I've done for you and how much I've loved you, you're breaking it off for some old bastard who probably can't even make you come, just because you're mad at me?" I crossed my arms. 

"How many times do we have to go through this?" Stan kept his eyes on me with a smile on his face. He knew the truth, and that's what matters. "I'm not coming back with you, I'm not marrying you, and I'm going to file a restraining order against you. If you come back to the Mystery Shack, I'm calling the cops. Now leave me and my boyfriend alone." Stan puffed with pride. Was he that happy I was saying it in public? 

Brandon clenched his fists and brought one down on the table, making it rattle. The salt shaker fell over and rolled onto the bench next to me.

"Seriously? Fine. Okay. We're done. But when this guy dies on you, don't expect any sympathy from me." Brandon stormed out and slammed the door of the diner.

My heart was racing and tears streamed down my cheeks silently. Stan rubbed my shoulders and pressed kisses to my temple over and over again.

"You did so good, sweetie. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. You're amazing." All his praise was drowned out by the deep feeling of dread and sadness in the pit of my stomach. What if this isn't over? I gave Brandon years of my life. We'd been together since high school. And now, I have Stan but... does Stan even want me? Are Brandon's lies about me going to get into his head?

We ate our breakfast in silence, Stan paid, and we got back into his prized car. He pulled me flush against him so he could drive while holding me close. I rested on his shoulder and let my eyes slide shut, focusing on the feel of the road under us.

The familiar bumps into the Mystery Shack lot made me look out the window. Stan shut off the car, but we didn't move.

"All that stuff he said... don't worry about it," he assured me. "I don't blame you for anything you did when you were younger." More tears fell.

"It was all lies!" I sobbed into his chest. He held me tight. "He was trying to make you hate me!" The tears wouldn't stop falling. Stan pulled me into his lap and held me as I wept. "I just wanted to be happy and he had to come ruin it!" Stan rubbed and patted my back, rocking me side to side gently in the driver seat of his car.

When I finally stopped crying, he kept holding me.

"I grew up in New Jersey," he said. I didn't speak. "And I had a twin brother." That was news. 

He started going on with his life story. Stanley and Stanford Pines, the twins. Ford was the smart and talented one, Stan was the tough one who looked out for their family. They had a brother who was a few years older than them.

He ruined his twin brother's prospects for college by accident, and Ford never forgave him. Stan was put out of the house, worked odd jobs, lie, cheated, and became a decent con artist. Ten years after he was sent away, Ford contacted him just to tell him to get lost and hide a book for him. They fought. Ford was shoved through an interdimensional portal by accident. Stanley faked his own death and took Ford's place in this cabin. He worked through every night trying to bring his brother back. He had to make money to keep doing this research, so he started up the Mystery Shack. To this day, he doesn't have all three notebooks Ford wrote, and he can't finish the portal without them. It's been twenty-nine years.

"I've been doing this racket longer than you've been alive. I've done terrible, awful things. No one even knows about it and I can't talk about it with anyone. I didn't trust anyone enough until now. Stanford... I miss him. And I know he'll hate me forever, even if I do bring him back, but I have to try. Family is everything to me." He tugged my hair gently to make me look at him. "Well, that and you. You're practically my family now, right? Known ya for three months, and I'm in love with ya." His cheeks turned red. "I don't care if what that guy said was true or not. You're my girl, and I'm not letting you go any time soon, especially over something that creep says."

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Chapter 10: Walkin' In a Winter Wonderfuck Part 1

The first snow of the season came in late November, after Thanksgiving. Stan had officially closed the Shack for winter, but Soos and Wendy still came over to hang out or do idle tasks to prepare for the Spring tourist season.

I had never seen snow before. I stared out the window in wonder as the fat flakes fell. They melted as they hit the porch until it was soaked enough, then it started to stick.

Stan had bought me a winter coat and boots so I didn't die. The first day of the snow, I bundled up with Wendy and tried to run outside like a kid, but Stan grabbed me by the shoulders and made me stand in the doorway while he stuck a hat on me and shoved gloves onto my hands. I was too excited!

"Don't eat the first snow of the season, and don't be too disappointed if it's mostly ice right now," he warned. "Wait here while I get my coat too. I'm gonna keep an eye on you." I pouted at Stan, who tapped my nose before walking back to his room. 

Even after being together for two months, I still haven't gone in his room. I wanted to respect his space. I kind of took over the rest of the house, after all. My books and decorations littered the living room. Photos of the two of us were in frames on the walls. He had insisted on it so he could walk past it and see my smile every day. 

He came back in a black coat and gloves with some black boots on.

Something about Stan in all black with his hair free of his fez made me melt. Before he could pull a beanie over his head, I gripped the labels of his coat and pulled him in. He smirked and gripped my hips as he bent down to meet my lips.

Wendy gagged behind us and I giggled with my nose pressed to Stan's.

"Better get used to it, Courduroy," Stan chuckled. "This one's sticking around. Your pops made sure of it." He gave my ass a playful smack as Wendy and I ran out the door.

As soon as my foot made contact with the edge of the porch, my feet slipped out from under me and I bounced down the icy steps on my butt, landing in the dirty snow. Stan snorted out a laugh while he helped me up.

"You okay, doll? I forget, you've never done this before." I rolled my eyes and dusted myself off. Stan sat on the edge of the porch while I stood in the middle of the yard.

The snowflakes were more beautiful than I imagined! They fell into my palms and dusted over my face. The chilly air blew through me.

Wendy lobbed a snowball at my chest and it shattered against me. A snowball fight! I've never done this before!

Stan showed me how to make a good snowball and I threw it as hard as I could at Wendy, who dodged and laughed. I ran and made another one, and another until we had thrown most of the snow in the yard at one another. I made one more and hid it behind my back while I went up to Stan. He was sitting on the porch with a lit cigarette and a grin.

I chucked it and hit him square in the chest. He dramatically fell back onto the porch and groaned.

"I've been hit! Medic! I think I see the light! Pops, is that you? Oh, what a world!" He laid his arms out to his sides and lolled his tongue out of his mouth to play dead. I giggled and kissed his cheek. He grinned back and I helped him sit up. "You cold enough yet?" I nodded and the three of us went back inside where Soos had been making hot chocolate. Stan took my coat and gloves.

We snuggled on the couch while Soos and Wendy sat on the floor and played Monopoly. After several hours, Stan checked the time and looked out the window.

"You two better get home before the snow gets too bad. Weatherman Stan says a blizzard is coming through tomorrow morning, early. Don't want you to be stranded anywhere." We see Wendy and Soos out the door and Stan locks it behind them before stretching and turning back to me.

"So... what do you want to do tonight?" I asked. He grinned and wrapped his arms around ne.

"The heat's out," he mumbled into my neck. "And I can think of a thing or two to keep us warm." I giggled when he started to nibble behind my ear.

"Aw, I don't know... last time you said you could buck like a racehorse, you ended up throwing your back out." He growled playfully and squeezed my ass.

"Well then... maybe that just means I need to move more. Care to join me?" I turned around and draped my arms over his shoulders. He planted his hands back on my ass and held me tight.

"I would love to, Stud." I pulled him up the stairs and as soon as my bed was in his sights, he grabbed my sweater and yanked it off over my head. He's so impatient! I let him push me back onto the bed and helped him take my jeans off. 

He crawled up and pushed my thighs apart before pressing his nose against my sex. I lazily ran a hand through his gray hair while he inhaled.

"God, I'm addicted to this," he mumbled against my underwear. "How do you smell that good?" I took in a shuddering breath when he tugged my panties to the side and licked a stripe up through me. "Damn, it's better than whiskey." I lifted my hips for him to pull my panties off and he yanked me up so my knees were on his shoulders. My weight rested on his thighs and my shoulders were on the bed. He buried his face between my legs and I couldn't help but whimper when his tongue started to flick over my clit. He always knows just the right spot to make me squirm.

His tongue laved over my clit after each brutal suck from his lips. He prodded into my dripping hole to coax more arousal out of me before pulling away to bite my inner thighs and tease me.

I was a moaning mess soon. His tongue and teeth and lips worked me over until I was begging him to let me come.

"S-Stan, pleeeaaaase!" He chuckled darkly.

"Please what? Tell me what you want, sugar." I moaned as he resumed his assault.

"Please!" It's all I could think. I was so close, but he kept me right at the edge. He slowly lowered my hips back to the bed and slid two fingers into me.

A new moan left my throat as he curled his fat fingers inside me and sucked on my clit at the same time. I was bucking into him and he finally, finally shoved me over the edge and coaxed an orgasm from me. He yanked his hand away and clamped his lips firmly around my pussy as I spasmed.

"Oh, god damn, doll," he groaned. I could barely breathe. "You're a dirty girl, squirtin' all over my face." I opened my eyes to see him licking his lips and his fingers. My body was twitching from the pleasure. "I'm gonna have to clean you up, aren't I?" He bent back down and licked through me again. He lapped at my inner thighs that were coated in my own come. I whimpered and gripped his hair as he started to work over my clit again. I was too sensitive!

I tried to pull him off, but he reached up and gripped my wrists. He pulled back from my pussy and glared up at me.

"Bad, girl. Don't you stop me from eating this." 

"Staaaaan! Please! Fuck me already!" I moaned out. He circled my clit with his tongue faster now, occasionally flicking over it or pausing to suck on it. He slid two fingers into me again and pulled his mouth away from me to replace his tongue with his thumb. He abraded my clit while his fingers thrust in and out of me. I threw my head back in a cry at the feeling and the noises.

"Do you hear that, doll? How sloppy your pussy is for me? God, you're hot. I can't wait to shove my cock so far into you." My pussy clenched around his fingers and I cried out. My entire body spasmed as I shook and screamed through my orgasm. 

Stan eased his fingers out of me. I blindly reached for his face and he nuzzled against my neck. His lips and jaw were wet with my slick. I groaned as his stubble scratched at me. My entire body was one big nerve ending. I couldn't move. I couldn't think of anything but Stan Pines.

Stan idly brushed his thumbs over my nipples to keep my body twitching. 

"Think you can take me, hon?" I opened my eyes and licked my lips. "What're you thinkin'?" I gathered my strength and sat up.

"Pants off. Now." My voice was shaky but I wanted him so bad. I needed him. And I wanted to suck him off before he fucked me. I slid to the floor and he gave a nervous laugh.

"Sweets, we've been over this. You're not gonna like what you see down there." I tugged at the waistband of his slacks. 

"Now." I felt his body freeze and his face was more red than before.

"You're sure?" I tugged at his pants again, and this time he stood up and undid his belt. I licked my lips as I watched his face. He was only ever nervous about me actually seeing what's between his legs. He has no problem with me feeling it, though. I pulled his pants and boxers down and blinked when his erection was let out. What did he think it looked like? It was normal. Better than I expected at his age, actually. I smiled up at him and gave no warning before I leaned forward and licked up the underside of him. I licked from base to tip, then sank my mouth around the length of him. His knees buckled and he dropped to sit on the bed. His cock hit the back of my throat and I gagged, but powered through it as I bobbed my head. I kept eye contact with Stan the entire time. I hollowed my cheeks and laved my tongue along the underside of his shaft. His hands gripped my hair and I listened to him whimper. That just spurred me on and I moved faster. I felt him twitching in my mouth and I quickly pulled off of him. 

He let out a shuddering breath and gently ran his fingers through my hair.

"Damn. I was so close." I kissed his inner thighs and hummed. "You just gonna leave me hanging?" He sounded disappointed. Did he really think I would do that?

I pushed him to lay back and climbed into his lap, positioned him, and sunk down quickly. I whined at the intrusion and he hissed and grabbed my thighs. He was flat on his back and breathing heavily. 

"Oh, doll, I won't last long like this," he warned. He always said that, and was always wrong. For an old man, he had some stamina.

I rested my palms on his chest and started to rock back and forth. His cock sturred my insides and I let me head fall forward as a whimper left me. Stan's firm grip helped me rock faster. I was close to coming undone when he stopped me. He gave me a sly grin before pushing me off.

"On the bed, all fours. Now." His voice was commanding and rough, and I absolutely loved it.

His palm came down on my ass as I complied and he used the other hand to press into the middle of my back. I dropped to my elbows. I felt his cock nudge between my pussy lips as if Stan was searching, then he quickly thrust inside in one quick snap of his hips. 

It was too tight! I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. Every small movement he made sent shockwaves through me. Stan slowly pulled himself halfway out, then thrust back in just as slow. Slow and hard and perfect. I gripped the sheets and screamed into the pillow as he hit deep inside. I felt like Stan would rip me apart.

How does an older man like that have the stamina? I felt him adjust and he started to pound into me faster. His balls slapped against me, the sound of his hips hitting my ass filled the room. His grip on my hips felt like it would bruise but I didn't care. If I never walk again, I'll still be happy.

The pressure in my gut was building fast and I leaned back up on my hands to throw my head back. Stan took the opportunity and wrapped my hair around his hand to use it as a grip, and he went even harder until I shook beneath him and screamed out his name as I came around his cock. He twitched and swelled inside me and a warmth spread through my insides as he filled me with his cum. His hips kept stuttering and thrusting into me like he couldn't control himself until his cock fell out of me and he let me fall to the mattress. He laid next to me and kept his arms around me to hold me against his chest.

He combed his fingers through my hair and kissed behind my ear. His touch that was just painful had changed to soft and gentle. 

"So perfect," he muttered. "What'd an old bastard like me do to deserve you?"

I rolled over in his arms and snuggled into his sweaty chest. We were both still panting. His rounded stomach pressed into me and I smiled at the contact. Every imperfection of mine was made complete with his own imperfections. We fit together like puzzle pieces, somehow. And I was grateful to have him in my life.

"I love you, Stan," I mumbled against his chest hair. He rubbed my back and kisses the top of my head.

"Yeah, I'm a catch," he replied. I smacked his arm and he laughed. I felt the vibration in his chest and closed my eyes. 

This is what happiness feels like.

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Chapter 11: Walkin' In a Winter Wonderfuck Part 2

The "blizzard" Stan had warned Wendy and Soos about never showed. I think it was all a ploy to get me alone. The morning after our fun, he couldn't move. 

"Why do my joints have to hurt so much?" He could barely sit up in bed. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled one of his shirts off the floor so I could go make us breakfast and get him some tylenol.

"Pancakes and bacon with a side of painkillers. The breakfast of racehorses," I giggled. He rolled his eyes, but thanked me. We ate breakfast in bed together and he eventually got up to do the dishes, complaining and groaning the whole way.

I hopped in the shower to wash the dried come from between my thighs. It was becoming a familiar activity with Stan. He was so... sexual. I didn't expect that out of this relationship. I was content with the idea that we would be together emotionally rather than physically. But I can't say I'm disappointed in how it turned out. We're teaching each other so much. He's learning to be confident in his body and to be a kid again, and I'm learning to let myself feel what I want to feel. If I want to go play in the snow like a kid, Stan plays with me. If I want to bawl my eyes out, he holds me and let's me take all the time I need. 

He's hilarious, he's sweet, and he's just... perfect. Better than I ever imagined I would deserve.

I dried off and stepped out in my towel. Stan was sitting on the couch with a blanket in his lap, some old show from the 70's playing. I smiled to myself and waltzed in with my towel on. His eyes widened.

"Uh... What're you doin', hon?" I didn't say anything. I just dropped my towel and stepped over it before sliding under the blanket with Stan.

"Watching M*A*S*H with you, what else?" His arm came around me on instinct but his hand hovered over me, like he was scared to touch me. I ran my hand up and down his thigh and smiled at the tightness in his boxers.

"You're gonna kill me, you know that? Give me a heart attack or something." I laid my head on his shoulder and hummed. 

"You'll die happy, though. Didn't you tell me the other day that you wanted to drown in my pussy?" His face turned bright red and he looked away. "Aw, don't get shy now!" I teased him. "Best way to make your aching joints better is to work them out." He turned back to face me and leaned in for a kiss.

"One round, that's it," he said. "Then you put your clothes on." I nodded and he quickly had me pinned to the couch with his fingers slipping inside me.

It was more than one round. I don't know what it is, but we just can't keep our hands off each other! When we finally finished with one another, we showered together for the first time. I washed his back and as I ran the washcloth over his shoulder, I noticed the scar on his back.

"I've been meaning to ask, how did you get this weird scar? It looks.... sciencey." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"Remember when I told you about Stanford? Uh... when we fought before he.... left, he uh... accidentally shoved me against part of some machinery. It was hot and it kinda branded me. It was decades ago, so it doesn't really bug me. Why do you ask? Does it bug you?" I rinsed the soap off of his shoulder and kissed the burn scar before he turned back to me.

"No. I was just curious. I love learning things about you." He was blushing more than I did when we first got together!

The next snowstorm that hit was at Christmas. On Christmas Eve, I finished wrapping my gift to Stan and slid it under the tree next to a box that was wrapped with my name on it. It wasn't as neatly wrapped as mine was, but I knew Stan must have put in at least a little effort. I smiled at the lopsided bow. 

"Get your coat, sugar!" He called from the front door of the shack. "I got a date planned!" I ran to get dressed and met him at the front door. He helped me into my coat and tied a scarf around my neck before kissing my nose. "I've got a surprise for ya." 

He let me into his car, which was idling quietly outside, and pulled away from the shack. He had shoveled the snow out from our lawn.

The roads were salted so we didn't slide all over the place. He eventually pulled off onto a familiar turn.

"Are we going to your secret pond?" He hummed and rubbed my thigh. "C'mon! Tell me!" She chuckled again and shook his head.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you! Now shut your trap and enjoy the veiw." 

What view? The beautiful, snow covered forest we drove through, or the handsome devil driving me into it? Either way, it was worth looking at. 

We rumbled into the grass near the pond and Stan let me out. The pond was frozen over! He popped the trunk and pulled out two sets of ice skates. 

"I took your size from your boots we got for ya. Hope you like skating." I grinned. I'd never done this before either! He helped me put them on and made sure they were laced tight for me. "Don't expect too much outta me, now. I'm old and I don't move like I used to." I kissed his cheek before he pulled me up. On our skates, he helped me walk to the edge of the pond and he gripped the dock while he went out first.

"Yeah, she should hold." It didn't even crack under his weight. He held his hands out for me and I grabbed them as I stepped onto the ice.

"Don't pick your feet up. You're just shofting your weight. If you try to walk, you'll fall on your ass." He was coaching me in something young people do? Ironic.

I kept my eyes on my feet while he pulled me backwards across the ice. He let go of one hand so we could skate the same direction, and I finally got brave enough to look up at him. He was beaming ear to ear.

"You're good at this," I said. "Where did you learn?" He helped me turn as we neared the edge of the pond.

"Ford and I used to skate as kids. One of those things that's like ridin' a bike. I haven't done it since we were eighteen." He looked across the ice wistfully, reminiscing on life with his twin. I squeezed his hand.

"Well, you're a great teacher." We made another lap around the edge of the pond before he let go of my other hand.

I was a bit wobbly, but I managed to go another lap by myself without falling!

A voice cutting through the cold air surprised me and my feet came out from under me.

"Mr. Pines!" Soos shouted. Stan helped me to my feet, and we looked to see Soos and Wendy getting out of his pickup with ice skates in hand. "I didn't know you could skate, dude!" Stan rolled his eyes.

"So much for my secret spot. How did you knuckles heads find this place?" Wendy giggled and she got onto the ice and grabbed my hands.

"I come here with my brothers every winter. Seriously, Stan, you keep surprising me! Bagging a young chick and a romantic? How did you stay single for so long?" 

Stan huffed. Soos toddled onto the ice like a newborn. Stan sat on the dock with his arms crossed whole Wendy and Soos skated with me in a few laps. Soos held onto one hand, and Wendy held the other. 

At the final curve, Soos' foot went the wrong way and he did the splits, Wendy let go and got away so she wasn't dragged down, and I fell and slid to the point I ended up pinned under Soos. I gave a nervous laugh and pushed, but he wasn't moving to get up. I pushed at him, but he still didn't move. 

"Soos... I can't breathe!" I heard Stan shout across the ice and soon Soos was being pulled off of me by Wendy and Stan. He helped me up and touched my head and shoulders to make sure I was okay.

"I'm fine, stud. Really. It was just an accident. Stan grumbled about Soos touching me. "Aw, are you jealous?" Stan glared down at me. "You know I love you," I giggled. I tugged his arms until they uncrossed and he held me. "Besides, he's too young for me. I prefer someone in the fifty to sixty year old range. And he has to wear a fez to work and look really good in a suit and tie." Stan cracked a smile and kissed my red nose.

Wendy and Soos stood awkwardly.

"Uh.... you guys are cute, I guess," Wendy said. "Love is still gross, though. All that..." she gestured to the two of us, "lovey dovey cute stuff, it's disgusting." Stan laughed and held me tighter.

"Gross? I can show you gross, sister!" Stan bent at his knees, wrapped his arns around my thighs, and lifted me in the air. I squealed and kicked my legs while he smiled up at me. I gripped his shoulders and bent down to kiss him. I made it loud on purpose.

"Eeeewww!" Wendy laughed. "But Stan, I didn't know you were that strong! Didn't you just have to get my help moving a display like... a month ago?" He set me down and made sure I was stable before we skated on again.

"I was just bein' lazy! See you kids later!" He got us to the dock and helped me into the snow before we trudged back to the Diablo. He started her uo and got the heater going before coming to the other side to help me get my skates off.

"Sorry our date got cut short, doll," he said. I kissed his cheek.

"I think it was perfect. Except for the part where Soos pinned me by accident. But other than that, it was amazing! I've never been ice skating before! It's kinda like roller blades, but I've never been good at that either." He closed my door and tossed our skates back into the trunk.

The drive back to the shack was quiet, but it was the good kind. I was cuddled up to him on the bench seat. I had abandoned my scarf and hat, and Stan took the opportunity to play with my hair. 

We pulled into his usual spot at the Shack, but he didn't shut the car off. He turned to look at me, and I blinked back at him. No words were spoken between us. They didn't need to be. He undid his seat belt and cupped my cheeks before leaning into a heated kiss. I clutched his coat and tugged him closer.

Stan's tongue dipped into my mouth and I let him explore. His tongue circled my own, I stroked his in reply. I unzipped his coat and pushed it from his shoulders before cupping his strong jaw in my hands. I pulled back and he searched my face. I smiled.

He smiled back.

He pushed my coat from my shoulders and I reached down to unzip his pants. He pulled the lever on the seat so it leaved back to give us more room. I adjusted myself and leaned down as I pulled his cock out over his boxers. His hand cupped the back of my head and gently urged me onward. I normally wouldn't like being pushed into a blow job, but with Stan, it didn't feel like a demand. It felt right.

I bobbed my head as the car was filled with the sloppy sounds of Stan's whimpering, and the classic rock that played over the radio. Spit dribbled down my chin.

I pulled off of him and he tugged me up to meet his lips. He bit into my neck while he worked the button of my pants and pushed them down my thighs. He quirked a brow at me and pushed until my back was against the passenger door. Music was still playing through the car speaker when Stan started stroked his cock and hovering over me. Stan pulled my pants the rest of the way off and laid them over the back of the seat before turning back to me and dragging my thighs over his hips.

He had one hand pressed against the foggy window and he looked into my eyes as he moved my panties aside and sank into me. My eyes widened at the feeling while he hung his head and breathed heavily through each thrust. 

I had my arms looped around his neck and he pressed his forehead to mine while his shallow thrusts jostled the car. Every breath was hot and the air around us was thick with the scent of sex.

I bit my lip and stopped a cry as it built in my throat. Stan started moving faster and deeper, chasing his release.

He hit just right inside me and I started to clench and come around his cock just as he threw his own head back and shouted as he buried himself to the hilt. I could feel him coming and it made the wave of my own orgasm feel that much sweeter!

He was panting when he pulled out of me and he slumped into the seat next to me. I grabbed my pants and started to put them on, but he stopped me and pulled me to straddle his lap while I faced him. He buried his nose in my neck and rocked slowly while he pressed kisses and bites against my neck. I would have so many hickeys by the time we were done.

When we both calmed down, he zipped himself back into his pants and helped me into my own, and my boots.

He shut the car off and kissed me one last time before getting out to come open my door.

I smiled to myself while I was alone and held my cheeks. Stan really, truly likes me! 

He was gone longer than usual. I cracked my door open to see if he was okay, and saw him standing against the side of the car while an older woman appeared to be scolding him with a finger pointed in his face.

Not just any older woman.

My fucking mother.

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Chapter 12: The Pines Family Hanukkah

My mother was scolding him.

"Do you have any idea what that can do to a child?" Stan's attention was drawn when I fully opened the car door and stepped out. My mother's rant died in her throat and she looked pale. "No! You were... with...?" She looked like she would faint. "I was hoping Brandon was lying!" She threw her arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder. I patted her back awkwardly.

"Lady, not to be rude, but who the hell are you?" My mother straightened and cupped my cheeks before taking inventory of me.

"Stan, this is my mother, Barbara Oak. Mom, this is my... boyfriend." She whirled back to him and glared.

"Well, your boyfriend should be old enough to know better! What were you two thinking, fornicating in that car! Anyone could have waltzed up and seen it! I should know! I did see!" She carried on about public indecency and my innocence, which was gone years ago. It started to snow lightly, so I offered to move the conversation into the house. She dug in her trunk and pulled out a small suitcase.

"Mom, don't take this the wrong way, but how did you find me? I kind of disappeared." She sat in a kitchen chair while Stan dropped into his spot on the couch. I passed around mugs of hot chocolate. She hummed as she sipped it.

"Oh, that good for nothing ex fiancé of yours came banging on my door to tell me all about how you were here sleeping with half the town and living with a man old enough to be your father." I nearly tripped as I made my way to the couch, but Stan steadied me.

"... you didn't believe him, did you?" I asked. She had a tendency to believe anything. She snorted a laugh.

"I know you better than that! My baby would never whore herself out. And I was obviously worried when you ran away without any warning and dropped off the face of the earth, but I trust your judgement. Honestly, after what that bastard put you through for years, I'm shocked you didn't leave sooner. I knew you would reach out when you were ready. No news is good news, after all." She was surprisingly calm. "Of course," she continued, "when he told me you were here, I wanted to see you but I knew if I came out immediately, it would scare you. I figured Christmas was the best time. I wasn't expecting him to be right when he said you were living with an older man, though." She eyed Stan like he was a demon. 

"Stan is really nice," I said quickly. "And he runs his own business." She hummed again.

"I suppose I can't be too angry. Brandon said Stan beat the tar out of him when he tried to bring you home. I've been wanting to do that to him for years. So, thank you, Stan. But if I ever catch you with your pants down around my daughter again, we are going to have more than just words." He nodded and looked into his mug. I elbowed him gently.

"Hey, stud, what happened to me not opening my own car door?" He cracked a smile.

"I oughtta make you every once in a while. You're too spoiled." He pinched my cheek.

"If I'm spoiled, it's your fault," I shot back. He put his arm over the back of the sofa. "So, how long are you staying, mom?" She shrugged.

"I'll probably leave the day after tomorrow. I want you to have your space, you know? You're a grown woman, and I respect your decision to be here. I know you don't do anything without thinking it through first." I appreciated her faith in me, no matter how misguided. I definitely didn't think about it before moving in here.

"Oh, speaking of tomorrow... my uh... my family is coming over for the day to do sort of a family Hanukkah," Stan said nervously. "And they don't... they don't know about you. I haven't told them." I waited for it to hurt my feelings, but it didn't. 

"So, laying low while they're here?" He gave a sad nod. "Okay. Whatever makes you more comfortable. It's your nephew and his kids, right? The kids that made you that sweater?" He grinned.

"You remembered! I didn't think you were payin' attention!" 

We chatted with my mom for a while until the clock on the wall struck ten pm. I showed her to my bedroom and resigned myself to sleeping on the sofa while she was here.

"Don't worry, peanut," she said as I helped her settle. "I won't say anything to his family. Or your father. Lord knows he would come here with a shotgun if he thought someone his age was sleeping with his grown daughter."

When I went back to the living room, Stan was holding a present in his lap. It had my name on it.

"What's this?" He grinned and patted the seat beside him.

"Kind of an early present, I guess. I wanted to give you this before my family got here. It's silly, but I want to have somethin' just for us before kids are running around here." My heart clenched and I could have cried. He was so sweet!

I pulled his present the closet and we swapped. Stan opened his first.

Inside the long, narrow box was a carved cane with an 8-Ball as the handle. It was one of those magic 8-Ball toys, but I replaced the dice with one that had cute lovey stuff on it. Every time he shook it, he could look and see something cheesy on it. 

Dan and Wendy had helped me carve the cane and paint it, and Soos helped me attach the ball to the top so it wouldn't come off.

Stan turned it over in his hands with a huge smile on his face. He looked up at me and pulled me in for a kiss.

"I love it, doll. I was lookin' for something to spice up the Mr. Mystery look! This is perfect. Thank you." He gestured for me to open mine. 

A familiar wooden sign was inside the paper. The sign that previously hung on Stan's bedroom door to announce that it was, in fact, Stan's room. I was a little confused.

"I uh... it's kind of symbolic. Follow me." He led me up the stairs, cane clutched proudly in his hand, and stopped in front of his door. "I wanted to let you move into here. If you want to. I uh... I can't sleep without you lately and it's not fair that I always take up your bed. So, I guess... instead of 'Stan's Room' it can be... our room." 

He opened the forbidden door and revealed a room that was not at all what I expected. It was clean, the sheets were washed and neatly folded onto the bed, there was a rug on the floor, and the open closet door revealed that half of the rack was open for me to hang my clothes. There was a large dresser across from the bed. A floor-length mirror stood against another wall and a neat rack sat by the door with shoes placed on it carefully. His bathrobe hung on one of two hooks mounted to the back of the door. In another corner was a rack of hand weights ranging from three pounds to fifty. I didn't even know you could get them that heavy! No wonder Stan's strong.

He hung the sign back on his door and stood nervously. He clasped his hands and held them over his belly with his shoulders to his ears.

"Stan... I don't know what to say!" Everything looked freshly moved. He had purposefully made room in his only personal, private space... for me. I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek before running and jumping onto the bed. I landed in the middle of the queen mattress and giggled. The comforter still had a tag on it, as if he bought it recently, and the pillows felt fresh out of the bag. He chuckled as he closed the door and locked it.

He pulled his sweater off and stretched before shucking his pants to the floor and tossing them into the laundry hamper. He climbed into the bed and waited for me to strip and climb under the blanket with him. We snuggled up against the cold chill of the cabin, and I took in the smell of his lingering cologne from this morning.

In the morning, I pulled on a sweater that was ugly on purpose while Stan put on a light blue one with a fez embroidered on it. 

"Another Mabel sweater?" I asked him. He nodded proudly. "I can't wait to meet the little artist!" 

"What are we going to tell them about... us?" I asked. 

"Uh... new to town, working for me in exchange for a place to stay. Coworker/roommate. That's the original truth." I shrugged. Sounds good to me. Before we left the room, he smirked and held mistletoe above his head. 

"One more for the road, toots?" I leaned up on my toes and pressed a light kiss to his nose. 

"You'll get more than a kiss when this is all over. How about we save it for then?" He nodded and when we walked out, he pinned the mistletoe above our bedroom door. 

My mother was in the kitchen cooking.

"How many of your family will be here, Stan? I want to make sure I cook enough. Oh! What do you normally eat at Hanukkah? I don't want to make anything you can't have." 

"Well, there's Alex, his wife Dana, and the kids, Mabel and Dipper." Dipper? Must be a nickname. "Four, but the kids are twelve and will either eat nothing or everything in the house." He pulled a kosher cookbook from the shelf and handed it to my mom. "We ain't like... kosher but you can try if you want. Like, we eat pork and stuff. You won't offend any of us."

A car horn honked outside and headlights streamed through the window. 

Stan rushed to the front door and threw it open, letting in a flurry of snowflakes.

Two adorable kids stood on the porch with matching dreidel sweaters, and their parents stood behind them.

"Happy Hanukkah Grunkle Stan!" the two exclaimed. The little girl threw her arms around him as he stooped to their height. He clapped the boy on the back and he rubbed the back of his neck. He thinks he's too big for hugs.

"Oh, I missed you kids! How're things, Alex? How's your ma?" The man, Alex, shrugged.

"We're going to see her tomorrow. She's kind of out of it, ya know? Since dad died..." He trailed off as he laid eyes on me. "Who's this, Stan?" Dana patted her son on the head before walking into the house, bumping past me. Okay then.

"This is Jess," Stan said. Mabel looked me up and down and Dipped glanced at me before blushing and looking at the ground. "Come in out of the cold! We can do introductions inside." 

I passed around hot chocolate and my mother met the kids.

"Oh, you must be little Mabel! Your uncle has told me so much about you." Mabel gave my mother a weird look.

"Grunkle Stan, is this lady your new girlfriend?" I heard Stan drop a cup and cough.

"God, no!" He exclaimed. His face was bright red! "That's Jess' mother, Barb. Just met her yesterday. Pines family, this is Jess. She lives here and works for me. Jess, this is the Pines family." I waved and Dana gave me a disapproving look.

"So you have a younger woman living with you now? Any other new developments? A girlfriend we don't know about?" Alex turned to his wife with a glare.

"Dana, not the place." She hummed and went into the kitchen to help my mother. I recognize a pending divorce when I see one, so I got the attention of the kids and we went to raid the board game closet under the stairs.

We opted for Chutes and Ladder, and quickly took over the living room floor with our game. Stan and Alex sat on the sofa and I sat with my back to the men. Dipper and Mabel sat across from me.

I could hear them muttering behind me.

"I just don't know, Stanford. I've done everything I can to make her happy, and she still won't stay, not even for the kids." They were whispering. "How do you deal with the loneliness?" 

"Well..." Stan hedged. "I threw myself into my work. But I don't have kids. You do. All you can do is be there for Mabel and Dippy. Make sure they know it isn't their fault." I leaned back with a small smile, seeking some contact from Stan. I bumped his legs and he shifted so my back was between them.

"Sorry," I muttered. This was going to be harder than I thought. I didn't want the kids to catch on, and I definitely didn't want their parents to know. By the look of Dana, she's ready to scratch my eyes out just for being here. 

Stan ruffled my hair and I grinned up at him.

"Havin' fun? Looks like they're kicking your butt." I shrugged.

"I'm just along for the ride. These two are a hoot!"

Mom and Dana came back in and I moved away from Stan to continue our game.

"You kids wanna open your presents?" Stan asked. Mabel and Dipper jumped up and smiled. "Okay! Grab 'em from under the tree."

Mabel and Dipper tossed presents to their family members and begged Stan to open his first.

Inside the poorly wrapped paper was a homemade sweater with a fish on it.

"Dipper picked the design!" Mabel said proudly. Stan grinned at it and went to go put it on.

"I love it, pumpkin. Thank you both!" Stan had given Dipper a notebook and flashlight, and he gave Mabel a new set of knitting needles and a book of knitting patterns so she could make dolls as well. Both the kids hugged their Great Uncle and thanked him.

Dana and Alex actually looked happy. Maybe it made them feel better knowing Stan loved their kids as much as they did.

"No presents for Jess?" Mabel asked with a pout. "She deserves something too, for keeping you company!" Stan laughed and we looked at each other.

"We did our presents before you kids got here," I said. "Like you guys did with your parents at home!" She looked satisfied with that.

While the boys all started talking about fishing and Dana started chatting with my mother about how she got over her divorce, Mabel pulled me up the stairs and into the attic.

I hadn't been in the attic yet. I didn't think there was much up here. We found two beds, two dressers, and posters on the slanted walls.

"I had no idea this was up here," I said. She gave me a shiny smile.

"It's there Dipper and I sleep when we're here! But that's not important! Do you like Grunkle Stan?" My face paled. "Oh, c'mon! I saw how he looks at you! That's more than a roommate, sister!"

I rubbed the back of my neck while I was stared down by this twelve year old. "Your silence means yes!" She shouted. "Aaahh! That's so gross! He's so hairy and rude!" I gave a nervous laugh.

"He isn't so bad... He's rude but he's nice to me." Mabel was grinning so wide I thought her braces would pop off.

"So is it official? Are you dating my Grunkle?" My cheeks warmed. "You are! Oh my gosh!" I grabbed her shoulders to stop her from jumping around.

"Mabel! You can't tell anyone. It's a secret." She gasped.

"Star-crossed lovers? That's so romantic! Gaaah! Can I tell my stuffed animals?" 

"Yes, you can tell them. But not Dipper and not your parents. I feel like your mom doesn't like me, anyway." Mabel made a zipping motion across her mouth. "Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it."

We rejoined the family and Dana gave me a dirty look. What the fuck did I even do? 

"So, Jess, is it?" Uh oh. My heart twisted. "Are you living here for free and taking advantage of Stanford's kindness?" If looks could kill, her gaze would have leveled me.

"No, I work for him," I said slowly. "He offered me a place to stay since it impossible to find a house around here." She scoffed.

"Oh, and those photos on the wall, that's you two being roommates?" She pointed to the collage frame Stan had put together. The two of us in the Shack giving tours, all of us on Halloween, a picture of him I took on his rowboat, and a picture I took kissing his cheek. 

"Yes," I said. "We just get along really well. I'd rather get along with my roommate instead of live silently with someone. Wouldn't you?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"What is that supposed to mean?" What? Stan stepped in and pushed me back by the shoulder.

"Hold on, ladies. Jess didn't mean anything by it. Dana, how about we talk outside. Just you and me." She uncrossed her arms and marched out with Stan giving me an apologetic look over his shoulder.

I don't know what was said. I don't think I want to. I heard a slap land, I heard Dana sobbing, and I heard some stomping footsteps as she came back in. 

Stan came back a moment later with a red spot on his cheek and a smile.

"That's solved," he whispered to me. I was nervous for the rest of the day. 

After dinner, after the rest of the Pines family loaded into their car and left, Stan and I dropped onto the couch and he put an arm around me.

My mother took her spot in the kitchen chair.

"That Dana woman has got some serious issues," she said. "All she would talk about was how much she couldn't wait for the summer so she could divorce her husband while the kids are here." I looked over at Stan.

"You never said the kids would come for the summer." I wasn't upset or anything. I was excited!

"I was meaning to, I was just gonna wait until we got closer to May. They stay here during the summers." I was looking forward to the prospect of seeing them again. Dipper and Mabel were so fun!

Mom said good night shortly after and Stan and I remained snuggled on the couch. I pulled my feet up and tucked them between the cushion and the arm of the couch while he dragged a blanket over the two of us.

"I love my family more than anything," he said, "but I like the quiet once they're gone. Especially if you're there with me."

He turned on a movie and I giggled at it.

"Beetlejuice? Really? It's December." He chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"Don't knock the classics. You'll probably pass out before the Maitlands die, anyway."

Stan was probably right. His family is wonderful, but people are still exhausting.

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Chapter 13: Happy New Year Baby!

On New Year's Eve, I woke up to a pleasant surprise. Stan was up before me, making breakfast. Apparently, my mother leaving was cause for celebration. 

I padded down the stairs with his robe and slippers on and watched from the doorway while he hummed and made pancakes. His hair was ruffled from sleep. He seemed to be standing up straighter than usual.

Stan was happy. And that made my heart melt.

When he turned around to set two plates on the table, he grinned at me.

"Well, good morning, toots. Save some of that sexy for the rest of us!" I was fully aware that my hair was a rat's nest and I hadn't washed my face in two days, but it was still sweet.

"You're lucky you're a good liar, Stan. Otherwise I wouldn't have believed you just now." I kissed his cheek. "So, what's the plan today?" He set the plates down and pulled me in by my hips to kiss me deeply. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him back.

"I was thinkin' we could... make up for the time we lost? With your ma and my family bein' here?" I liked the sound of that.

His lips trailed down my neck and he pushed his robe from my shoulders before stepping back to look at me. He gave a sly grin at the sight of my matching pantie set from Halloween.

"Aw, you read my mind, sugar!" His strong hands found my hips again and he pressed me against the kitchen counter before hoisting me up to sit on it. I draped my arms over his shoulders and kissed him softly.

Mornings like this, when the ground outside was covered in snow and Stan was giving me all his attention made me glad I stayed here. He convinced me so easily when we met, but I don't regret the jump decision I made.

I stopped him from kissing my neck and he pulled back with a confused look.

"Doll, if you don't want to, we won't," he said. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him to hold him close.

His strong arms came around me and I wrapped my legs around his waist to keep him as close as I could while quiet tears fell onto his shoulder. "Baby, you're shaking. Are you okay? What's wrong?" He rubbed my back and patted me to try and comfort me, despite not needing it.

"Nothing," I breathed. I inhaled his scent and buried my face in his neck again. "I'm just really glad I met you." I felt his chest vibrate when he hummed. "You're so sweet and you care about me and and I just love you so, so much more than I thought I would ever love someone."

Stan pressed a kiss to the top of my head and rested his cheek against the spot.

"You know I ain't good at... talkin' about this stuff, sugar." I nodded and kissed his throat. "You're special to me. Always will be. You... You're part of my family now." Another tear rolled down my cheek and I smiled. I knew he loved me just from his actions. He didn't have to say it.

We ate our breakfast and spent the day tidying up the house to get ready for the New Year. 2012, here we come. I had some party hats and blowers so we could have a little party of our own, and I had been hiding a bottle of champagne in the fridge for a week.

By nightfall, we were cuddled up on the couch, sharing light touches and the occasional kiss while an old horror movie played on the TV. Eraserhead was a lot more interesting than I remembered it being.

"Ya know, this came out when I was a little kid, and to this day, I don't get it," he complained. "It's a bunch of nonsense!" I hummed and snuggled against his chest more.

"Henry has anxiety about new fatherhood that he wasn't prepared for and sees this child as something to be feared and kept at a distance. Also he might be schizophrenic," I said. "It's a surrealist film, it isn't supposed to make sense. It's all about getting across a feeling." He scoffed.

"Feeling? What feeling? It's a bunch of nonsense." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay. Think about it this way. How did you feel the first time you looked at me? Don't tell me what you saw, just what you felt." Stan wouldn't look at me for a moment.

"I guess I felt like I got punched in the gut," he said. "I saw you through that window and... I knew I had to talk to ya or I'd regret it forever. But I never thought we'd end up here, lemme tell ya. I was fully expecting to strike out, ya know? Who knew you were crazy enough to move in with a bastard you just met!" I pinched his arm playfully and rested my head on his chest. "What about you? What did you think when this handsome devil walked in the door?" 

I blushed.

"Honestly, I thought you were a lonely old man with no one to talk to, so I was humoring you at first, and I thought you were very kind when you offered me a job and a place to crash." He kissed the top of my head.

"But... when I realized how much I like you, it was like a puzzle piece finally fit into place. I knew I was missing something, and I didn't think it was someone to love, but I'm glad it was. Now I get to spend time with a great guy who takes care of me." 

"Oh? Who's that? I don't think I met the lucky guy." We smiled.

I looked at the clock and jumped up to go grab a party hat. The alarm clock would go off in ten minutes to signal the new year. I put a hat on his head and sat in his lap, facing him and straddling his legs. He grabbed at my ass and grinned when I smacked his arm.

"It's the new year, Stan Pines. What's your resolution?" He cupped the side of my head with his strong hand and I leaned into it while we gazed into each other's eyes.

"My resolution is to be a better man for my family. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure my family is safe. And you're part of that, ya know." I reached up and grabbed the hand that was cupping my cheek and held it against my face more firmly.

"Mine is to do better for myself," I said. "My whole life, I've been a people pleaser and now the only person I want to make happy other than myself is you. No more being a doormat." He nodded to me with a smile. He was proud. I looked at the clock again.

Seven minutes.

Stan gripped my hips and leaned up to kiss me. It was gentler than normal. Instead of it being frenzied and lust filled, it was slow. Intimate. Our arms were wrapped around one another and our lips moved softly along at a steady rhythm.

Six minutes.

Stan's tongue slipped between my lips and caressed my own. I sucked at his tongue and slid my tongue over his gently. His hands wandered and squeezed my ass firmly. He pulled away from our kiss and started nibbling at my neck.

Five minute.

His hand snaked it's way between us and into my shorts to cup my sex. His teeth attacked my throat, his tongue licked away the bites. I gripped his hair and was whimpering under his touch.

Two minutes.

Stan slipped his middle finger into me and tugged my tank top down to suck my nipple into his mouth. His thumb rubbed into my clit quickly, almost frantically until I was bucking against him hard. He added another finger and pumped them in and out of me quickly. I tried to reach down and pull him from his boxers.

One minute,

He pumped his fingers faster, called me his good girl.

Thirty seconds.

I freed his cock and grabbed his shoulders while he pulled his fingers from me. I was close. He yanked me down onto his cock and I let out a sharp cry at the feeling. He groaned and his head tipped forward to press against mine.

Ten seconds.

He gripped my hips and leaned back to buck up into me. I was coming undone around him. I felt myself clench around him and he threw his head back in a moan. I gripped his shoulders tightly so I didn't fall off of him.

I was thrashing as my orgasm overtook me, and Stan kept chasing his own release through it. An alarm went off somewhere in the room, but we didn't care. Not when we were so wrapped up together.

He was getting sloppy, his thrusts still hitting deep as he made me ride out my pleasure. I felt him thicken inside me. Stan yanked me into an embrace as he wailed against my chest. I threw my arms around his shoulders. Warmth spread through me and I felt his cum dripping out of me.

Stan looked up at me with a flushed face and pulled me in for another kiss, softer this time. His softening cock slipped out of me and a mess leaked out onto his lap, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I love you, doll. I can't wait to spend the next year with you." We were both a mess. That's the fastest we've ever fucked before. I slumped against him and he rocked me gently until I felt myself starting to fall asleep. 

I remember him carrying me. Cleaning me with a wash cloth. Tucking me into his bed. Climbing in with me to cuddle. 

Happy new year.

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Chapter 14: Better Tell the Kids Soon

The Shack opened for the spring and I was back at the counter, where I belonged. It felt more domestic than before, somehow. Soos and I took care of day-to-day maintenance and helped put damaged displays back together while Stan, Mr. Mystery, used his charisma and smooth talking to make money.

Just before Spring Break, he got me out of bed early, telling me he had a surprise. I dragged myself to the shower as he isntructed.

When I returned to our room, he directed me to stand still and close my eyes. I felt him move my body and dress me. I felt a pair of pantyhose slide up my legs, followed by a tight skirt. A blouse was pulled over my head. A jacket was put on me. He helped me step into a pair of low heels. He pulled me blindly and had me sit on what felt like my vanity stool. I felt a light touch of makeup being applied to my face, and that's when I started to panic. My makeup wasn't cheap, after all! He pulled a comb through my hair and I felt him tie it back. It felt like a bun.

"Okay... stand right here..." He helped me walk to a spot and he adjusted my shoulders, urging me to stand straight and puff my chest out. "Open 'em!"

Before me was my reflection in our floor-length mirror. Stan was in his suit, and I now wore one to match, minus an eye patch. The red, frilly blouse was the same shade as his fez. The black pencil skirt came to my knees, the low mary-jane style heels and the sheer pantyhose made me look professional. My makeup was actually done well. Has he been practicing or something? The lipstick was new, though. I didn't have a red like this. Stan was beaming ear to ear and shuffling his feet like he was nervous. I smiled at his reflection.

"Stan, what's all this about?" He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple.

"I think you should run a few tours! Spring Break is big for our tourism and I got overwhelmed last year. I think we could run more tours on a quicker circuit if you joined me." My heart fluttered and I turned around to hug him. I had suggested this in passing months ago, but I didn't think he took me seriously! Not only did he listen, but he got me this whole outfit so I could look the part.

"Thank you, Stan."

He rubbed my back and kissed my temple again.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get makeup on my suit, doll. We open in ten minutes." I bit my lip to hide my grin before leaning up and pressing a hard kiss onto his cheek, making sure my lipstick print was left behind. "Hey!" I giggled and ran out, my heels making a satisfying click all the way to the gift shop.

Stan had a stain on his cheek the whole day. He had made the fortunate mistake of getting a waterproof lipstick, and I hid my makeup wipes from him. After a good ten minutes of scrubbing, he had to give up when a tour bus pulled up. He glared at me, but there was no real anger behind it. He loved it. He always liked to let people know he was taken, or that I was spoken for.

He let me join him on the first tour, giving me cues and letting me lead it with his assistance. We got through it without a hitch, actually! I even flirted with a few of the men on the tour, and at the end they gladly handed over the contents of their wallets at every gift suggestion I made. I knew Stan was proud at the end of the day.

I only knew, because he had chased me into the house as soon as the door was locked, and was lifting me onto the kitchen table quicker than I thought possible.

He pushed my skirt up so it bunched at my waist and yanked my tights and panties down before burying his face between my legs. I knocked his fez off and gripped his hair as he attacked my clit with harsh sucks and quick licks. He groaned against my cunt as he lapped at me.

My legs clamped around his head, but he pulled my legs over his shoulders and wrapped his arms around them tight to hold me still. I couldn't hold onto his hair anymore and wound up with my arms hanging over the other side of the table as praises and moans spilled from my lips.

"Stan! Yes! Oh, right there! Fuck, you're so perfect! You're so good at that! Fuck! Stanley! Yes! You're so good for me, Stanley!" At the sound of his full name, he shoved two fingers into my spasming pussy and sucked harder on my clit with a growl. His other hand left my thigh and moved downward. I propped myself up and saw him yanking on his belt.

Stan's hair was a mess. His face was flushed. His mouth was clamped onto my pussy. He was gazing at me with fire and determination in his eyes.

And he was jerking off on the floor like a fucking dog.

The sight made my eyes roll back and the coil in my gut snapped. I shouted out as my orgasm took me and Stan yanked his fingers away to clamp his mouth over my spasming hole. He switched his hands and used my slick to wet his cock before pulling me to the floor and shoving himself inside me before I even found purchase. I cried out again at the sudden intrusion and gripped his shoulders as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

He pushed and pulled my hips, using me as a cocksleeve while I was too blissed out to care. I was drooling, babbling, showering Stan with praise until he grunted and held me tight against his hips, shutting his eyes and pressing his face into my shoulder.

He panted under me for a moment while I ran my fingers through his hair. I could feel the weakening pulse of his cock in the aftermath of his on release. He gave me a weak smirk as he slowly pulled me off of his cock before shoving two fingers back into me. I whimpered.

"Aw, look at that. Made a fuckin' mess in you, didn't I?" He was looking down at my ruined pussy. He pulled his fingers back out and spread my lower lips apart to watch my hole clench. "Such a good girl." He brought his fingers up to my mouth. "Open up, taste how good you are for me, doll." I did as he said. He pushed his two fingers into my mouth and massaged my tongue with them. I closed my lips around them and sucked, tasting the mix of both of us on his digits.

His eyes bowed at the sight and he pulled his fingers from my lips to kiss me deeply. We sat together on the floor for a while after that, touching gently, kissing softly, just enjoying one another as we basked in the glow of the best sex we had so far.

Spring Break came and our plan went perfectly. Mr. and Mrs. Mystery ran back to back tours for nearly eight hours straight every day. I had never felt so tired on a Saturday night, but as soon as the door was locked and the till was counted, I kicked my heels off and fell onto the couch.

"Stan, how the fuck do you do that all the damn time? My feet are killing me!" He chuckled and came to sit by me with a bowl of warm water and some lotion in his hands. He pulled my feet onto his lap before taking a rag and carefully washing my feet. This... is new behavior. I was a little concerned.

I tried to pull my feet away, but he held firm.

"Hey, what's this for? Stop it." He shook his head.

"I made ya wear the heels, I knew your feet were gonna be hurtin'. Lemme take care of ya. Thanks to you, this is the biggest Spring Break I've had in years! Can't remember the last time we made this much." He continued to wash my feet. "I gotta pamper my lady every now and then, right? Lemme do this for ya." It was still odd behavior for him.

"Seriously, Stan, you never do this. What's wrong?" He sighed but didn't look at me.

"Just... the kids will be here June first, and it's April now, and... I just wanna spend all the alone time I can with you before they get here. I don't want you feelin' ignored when they come around just because they need more attention. They don't know about the divorce yet and... I kinda feel like... it's my job to keep them from findin' out this summer and I was gonna ask you... could ya spend some time with them? Maybe treat 'em like your own kids? These two need all the love they can get."

I sat up and smiled at Stan.

"You don't even have to ask, stud. Your family is my family. Your kids are my kids. I fell in love with those kids when they came over, and the way you talk about them... I feel like I've known them their whole lives. Of course, I'll help you love them. And I promise not to feel ignored just because they need some extra attention."

I set the bowl and the lotion aside and climbed into his lap to hug him. Stan held me tight to his chest.

"I do need to tell you something, though. I'm uh..." I pulled back to look at him. "My mom called the other night. She's moving in August. And she needs my help packing up the house and doing yard sales. She already found a house in Portland, so she's moving closer to here." His grip on me tightened.

"So you're gonna go help her?" I nodded. He grinned. "Good! I like your ma. I'll miss you, though. You better come back quick. At this point I might die if I go too long without eatin' that pussy." I gasped and smacked his arm playfully. Stan took the news better than I expected. He laughed at my feeble attack and kissed my cheek.

If I ever told Brandon about visiting my family, he threw a fit and forbid me from going. Stan was at least supportive, if a little gross about it.

"You're gross, Stan." He grinned and kissed my cheek.

"You love me, though." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, whatever."

As June quickly approached, I spent more time getting the house ready while Soos worked in the gift shop. I swept up the attic and got the kids new sheets and pillows. I put a small desk with a lamp on one side for Dipper, and a beanbag and wicker basket full of yarn balls on the other side for Mabel. I stuck light-up stars to the ceiling and strung fairy lights around the room. I made it as comfy and inviting as they deserved. When I had asked Stan why one couldn't sleep in the spare room, he teared up, so I dropped it. No big deal.

The day we had to pick the kids up from the bus stop, Stan was nervous. He paced back and forth in front of the bench, checking his watch every few minutes, while I sat with a sudoku puzzle book to pass the time. He insisted we get here at sunrise to make sure we didn't miss the kids.

Just when Stan was about to blow a fuse, the bus rumbled up the road and Stan stood still, hands wringing nervously in front of him.

"Why are you so nervous, hon? The kids love you." He grunted.

"One day a year versus a whole summer? The kids have never spent more than a week with me, and never without their parents. And they still think I'm Stanford! And I haven't come clean about you yet. I can't lie to these kids about everything in my life!" I rubbed his arm.

"Then tell them one truth that you can live with. I know you can't tell them everything, so just tell them one of those." He looked down at me, the way I hugged his arm, and I could see gears turning in his head. He nodded and pulled me against him to kiss me deeply just as the bus doors opened.

Children making gagging sounds ensued. I giggled as Stan pulled back. Mabel dropped her bag and bounded over to the two of us.

"OH MY GOSH IT'S OFFICIAL!" She threw her arms around my waist and smiled up at me, braces on full display. "So I can tell people now, right?" I ruffled her hair while Stan picked up her bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Yes, you can, Mabes. Good to see you both!" I went to hug Dipper, but he gave a nervous laugh and we high fived instead. Mabel tugged on my arm.

"He's been in love with you since December. I think you just shattered his dreams a little." I blushed and eyed her.

"I'm flattered, but it was never gonna happen. Sorry kid, I'm in love with your gross, hairy, old Grunkle." Dipper's face was a bright red, nearly matching Stan's car.

I helped put their stuff in the trunk and we headed off towards the Shack, ready for our newest adventure.

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Chapter 15: Summer Goes

"Happy birthday..." I cooed in Stan's ear. He groaned and rolled over in bed, taking the blanket with him. I smiled. He didn't really like his birthday, but I was determined to make this one count. "Stan, c'mon... Don't you wanna know what I got you?"

He rolled onto his back and sighed as he eyed me. He's been down ever since he overheard the kids talking about him their first night here. A Magic 8-Ball is the only thing that kept them here. I had to do something to boost his mood before it ruined his whole summer.

"You know why I don't do my birthday, Jess." I nodded.

"I'm familiar. But will you let me give you a present anyway? I didn't even spend money on it." He rolled his eyes and nodded. I grinned and pulled the blanket over my head as I sunk beneath the covers, positioning myself between his legs.

"Whoa, doll... Not... you don't wanna... oooh!" I had pulled his cock from the split in his boxers and reached in to cup his balls. I couldn't see his face. I could feel him gripping the blanket as I licked up the underside of his cock. It was hardening quickly. I gave him a few gentle pumps until he was standing at attention, then I sunk my mouth around him fully. His hands tangled in my hair and I heard him groan above me.

I bobbed my head slowly, sucked deeply, took him as deep as possible while my hand cupped and fondled his sack. I pulled off of him just long enough to yank his boxers down and bunch them at his knees. I ran my hands up his hairy thighs, admiring his silver hair, before licking up his shaft again. I closed my lips around the tip again and licked gently over the hole where his precum was beading. I pulled his boxers off the rest of the way before yanking off the blanket and pressing his legs up toward his chest.

"Doll... wha.. what are you doin'?" I smiled and bent down to wrap my lips around his cock again while I kept his legs up. He let out another soft groan. I ran one hand down to stroke his sack again, before trailing it down to thumb at his taint. He bucked his hips into my mouth. "Whoa! Hey, huh, baby..." I gazed up at him while I hollowed my cheeks and slowly worked my thumb inward. His hips bucked again and his cock hit the back of my throat. I pressed my thumb gently against his asshole and he gripped the sheets.

"Baby, that's... that ain't... oh, god..." I made small circles on his asshole as I bobbed my head, sucking slowly on his cock again. "That's... that's different. Oookay... baby you gotta... fuck okay." I switched to using a finger and pressed gently into his asshole. I felt him tense as the pad of my finger opened him up slightly. I kept a steady rhythm on his cock while I stretched his asshole enough to sink my finger into him.

I pumped my finger in time with my head bobs, searching. I found the firm, smooth spot I was searching for and pressed on it. Stan groaned and slapped a hand over his mouth as his cock twitched against my tongue. I pulled off his his cock and stroked him with my hand while I massaged his prostate. His cheek were red and sweat beaded at his hairline while I worked at him.

"Fuu... doll... wha..." He couldn't form a complete sentence. I smiled and stroked his cock faster. I felt him twitching in my hand as his hips bucked. I kept a firm press on his prostate and watched him bite his lip and screw his eyes shut. I stroked his cock faster until he grunted and pressed his head back into the pillow as cum spurted out onto my hand and his chest. I slowly kept stroking him as I pulled my hand out and bent down to kiss him once he finally stopped coming.

"Was that okay, stud?" He was panting and looked dazed. He gripped my hands and pulled me up the bed, ignoring the mess of come on my hands as he pulled me in for a kiss.

"Next time... Warn me... but it was good." I smiled and laid my head on his still heaving chest.

"Happy birthday, Stanley," I whispered. He ran a hand through my hair. We remained basking in it for a moment longer until I was finally uncomfortable with the sticky mess I was laying in. "You wanna shower together?"

I didn't have to ask him twice.

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

"Kids! Get in the car!" At my suggestion, he was taking the kids fishing. Bonding would be good for them. I stayed up late with him the night before sewing names onto fishing hats for the kids.

"You sure you don't wanna come?" he asked. I waved him off.

"I have a few things to take care of. You three have fun! Bring back enough for dinner, too!"

I saw the kids out the door with hugs and forehead kisses, despite their grumbling about not wanting to go on a mysterious adventure with Stan. It was going to be a surprise for them.

"You'll have fun, I promise. And it's about time the tree of you spent quality time together!" As soon as the car pulled away, I went to Stan's office and sat in the big chair.

I spent the day balancing the shack's account, paying out employees, and organizing moving people for my mom. If I get ahead of it, I can keep things on track for her. She isn't the best at planning ahead, after all. Ever since her divorce years ago, she's gotten into spiritualism and crystals, and that's great, but she also neglects herself now. Part of me feel obligated to help.

I was sitting on the couch, watching an old period drama when they came home, all of them laughing together. Must have been a success! The kids ran upstairs to shower and Stan flopped down next to me with a grin.

"Rocky start, but it ended better than I hoped. Lost all the fish, though." I giggled and kissed his cheek.

"That's okay. I ordered a pizza. It'll be here in twenty. Go get outta that vest, mister!

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

Parties, new friends, summer romances, and giving Mystery Shack tours filled my days. Stan stopped smoking and drinking with the kids around, only lighting a cigar late at night in his office while the kids were sleeping. One night in late July, he hadn't come to bed yet and he wasn't in his office. I went looking and found him coming in from the gift shop, sweaty and covered in dirt and grime from mechanical parts.

"Portal is almost done. If I just had the last journal, I could do it!" He wiped his hands on a rag and slung it over his shoulder before kissing my cheek. I followed him to the porch and we sat on the couch together. I watched him light a cigar and puff smoke out before sighing.

I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the smoke curl up and dissipate into the night air. Moments like this were peaceful, but still full of sadness. I couldn't begin to understand Stan's pain at losing his brother in such a devastating way, so I wouldn't question his dedication. It clearly ate at him, no matter how much I tried to keep his spirits up.

"Am I a fuck-up?" he asked. "Can I just do somethin' right? I got my brother all but killed, I faked my death and no one even showed up to the funeral, all my success with the Shack has been under Stanford's name! Even the kids don't really like bein' here. They say they do, but I can tell." I looked up at him and grabbed his ear to shake his head. "Hey! Knock it off!"

"Stan Pines. Those kids love you. Mabel is basically a little you! You are successful because of you. Not your assumed name. You think anyone else could have done everything you have?" He grumbled and glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

"So? At the end of the day, it's all because of him. Nothin' I do anymore is because of me." I sat up and pulled the cigar from his mouth.

"What am I, then? Because last I checked, I fell in love with you, not your brother." He furrowed his brows and looked at his hands. "Stan, you are so smart and so talented and so handsome, and I love you for you. And I'm pretty sure you love me, too. And that has nothing to do with your brother." I handed him back his cigar and got up to leave, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me backwards into his lap.

His strong arms came around me and he buried his face in my back. He dropped his cigar to the ground next to the porch and held me tight. He was shaking, as if he were crying. I rubbed his arms gently.

"Thank you," he whispered against my back. "I don't deserve you, baby." I smacked his arm gently.

"You deserve everything, Stanley."

[fishbloc]

hiiii friend (it’s birdie shhh didn’t want to send on my main blog) i fully support avoiding wips as i am doing the same so here is my question:

what, if you have any, are some of your favorite desert duo headcanons? can be scar or grian individually or them together

HIII BIRDIE sorry one of the wips is said yours related sigh . we're in this nightmare blunt rotation together

anyway. im gonna answer this in both for general and my WTLT!verse because theyre kinda different LOL sorry this gets long

general hcs 1) scar is a... very practical guy i would say. despite his strength lies in his words he would still favour showing care and affection. yknow stuff like cutting fruits for someone without asking. hes littered with small fleeting gestures and only someone who knows him well enough like grian could pick up on them 2) personally i always see grian as the loud annoying friend/partner/whatever you wanna call it. sure he sometimes uses it as an excuse to repress things he doesnt wanna talk about (this is where scar would usually coax him out of it) but his loudness can be really handy at times when an uneasy awkwardness fall between them. ALTHOUGH this doesnt mean grian won't 'shut down' when the situation arises (because i like quiet grian too) 3) not sure how to fit in one small paragraph about my dynamic hc for them but i can say with full conviction grian and scar would stick fruit labels onto each other's forehead when grocery shopping to piss the other off. hope this helps 😁😁

where the light touches hcs: 1) i really really like the hc that scar is so unphased by everything because hes jaded like that (whether a placid facade or no) like oh suddenly he managed to sign himself up for a death game. oh heres an immortal who wounded up in his path. oh suddenly he needs to start manipulating people to win. and hes like ok 👍 (he was first runner up in 3rd life for a reason) 2) for grian i like that hes kinda cunning in his own way. like yes hes not to full power with his watcher abilities stripped away and he can be kinda weak at times, but then he uses this front to trick people and when their guards are let down and turns the battle's tide with it. literally a small guy who packs a punch to those who underestimate him 3) for the both of them, my hc will always be that they have no choice but to trust each other wholeheartedly. because one small falter can cause their faction to fall and the only way they succeeded is because they dont second guess every time when the other will put a knife behind their back. sure this is not a popular hc but in 3rd life grian constantly stood by scar's side so. also its my storyverse and i get to pick the dynamics!!!!