#i think they're going to put me down in about thirty seconds so i'm going to imprint this to my eyelids

[kibasniper]

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!

ooooough. ooouugughgh......uuhwhgh....WOMEN WIN!!!!!!! GAY GIRLS WIN!!!!!!!!!!!! ohhhhh, my god, THE ESSENCE!!!! THE VIBE!!!!!! the way this is styled like a tpt comic and how the SPOTLIGHTS are shining on them!!!! almost like it's a circus act!!!! the patches on chloe's clothes and how they match tala AND the wings on the rocket to match tala's dress!!!!!! i'm ill. i'm fainting at the junction. the mirchloeness of it all. EVEN HOW SHE HOLDS CHLOE'S HELMET!!!! even the little details like the scuffed part of chloe's jacket like tala is gonna have to patch that soon!!! and the whole atmosphere is *chef's kiss times ten morbillion* THANK!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!

@kibasniper ohggggggg thank you for being so so patient with your secret santa bc like icarus i flew too close to the Fucking Sun. but i hope you like it anyhow (:

the idea is referenced from this old circus poster under the cut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Give Thanks

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, familial judgement/bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mother invites a lonely coworker to Thanksgiving, a bit too lonely.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this is the second of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The smell of nutmeg hits you as you enter the house. That and the garble of voices. You take your time as you unlace your boots, keeping your jacket on as the rack is already overflowing with the like. You mentally ready yourself to face your famiiy and their annual judging panel. 

You peek into the front room as you keep a firm hold of the boxed pies you grabbed from your favourite bakery in the city. You promised dessert and you brought it. You'll put them down before you wade in the deep end. 

You enter the kitchen, rehearsing your greeting for your mother, but you're met with a stranger's back. He stands at the counter, scraping cranberry sauce from a saucepan into a serving dish. His brown hair is combed back neatly, though you can only see the ends from your vantage, and he wears a pressed shirt too white for the task at hand. 

You hesitate. Where the heck is your mom? You can't see the man's face but you can tell he's a bit too young for her. Or so you would assume. He could be a cousin's boyfriend and yet he might be a bit above that. 

"Um, hi," you say as you approach the end of the island counter, well away from him, "I'm looking for my mom." 

"Your mom? Doris?" He wonders. 

"Yeah," you answer as you set the pies on the counter. "I know I'm a little late..." 

"She just went to grab something from the cellar," he explains. "I'm Andy--" 

"There she is," your mom sweeps in with her seasonal gravy dish. "Mm, I knew you'd bring store bought." 

"They're from a local bakery." 

"You never did like being in the kitchen," she reprimands. "Oh, Andrew, that looks perfect. Not too runny." 

You glance at the man. This strange man draws praise from her like honey from a comb, whereas you find the task as easy as squeezing juice from a stone. You let it roll off your back like you have for years. 

"I got pumpkin, apple crumble, and some pecan. They usually sell out of that." You say. 

"Ooh, pecan," the man, Andy, says. 

"Oh, Andrew, my younger daughter," your mother introduces you as an afterthought as she goes to wash the gravy boat, "The typist." 

"Typist? Mom, I'm an admin assistant," you counter. "I guess it doesn't matter." 

"Just her, I'm afraid," she shuts off the faucet. "And her pies. No grandkids from her yet." 

You see that this year is going to be just like the last. You're better off facing the rabble of aunts and uncles waiting for you in the front room. Heck, the kids' table might be the place for you. 

"Thirty this year," your mother adds. 

You force a tight-lipped smile. When you were a kid, it was your grades or the stubborn bit of hair at the back of your head or that your sister, Tia, did it better. Now you're an adult, it's your lack of ambition or lack of kids. You don't think you lack the former and you don't really want the latter. Life is what it is. You have a job that pays your bills and you don't need to add to your cost of living. 

"I work with your mom." He offers. You look at him again. 

He’s tall, blue-eyed, distinguished. He’s older but carries it well enough. The thin lines around his eyes only add to his looks, and his thick beard further defines his jaw. 

"Oh, the law firm?" 

"He's a new partner," your mother preens. "Oh, he gave your brother some good advice too. Hopefully he can move out of that public office soon enough." 

Right, Rodney does everything right. He got into law, just like your mother told him too, and he has a pretty house and a pretty wife and three spoiled brats. Tia only has the one and a husband who works out of town every weekend. They're real grown-ups but to you, growing up seems boring. 

Your life isn't glamourous. You do diamond art or catch-up on the last issue of your favourite comic when you're not too tired. You get takeout once a week, otherwise you put the ready-made meals in the microwave and eat it in front of the television. It's not special but it's your life. 

"Public defenders do a service to the community," Andy says. "I did it for twenty years. It's not bad work. He can move up." 

"Mm, and yet you moved to a private firm," your mother challenges him. 

"Maybe you should be partner," he chortles at her playfully as he wipes his hands on the tails of the borrowed apron tied around his torso. 

"My mom makes really good stuffing," you say, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, even if you're not home for the holiday." You drag your feet along the tile, "I'm going to say hello to Auntie Toya." 

"Good luck. She's in one of her moods," your mother tuts. "Must be menopause." 

You leave before she can aim another snipe in your direction. She can't help but let the bullets fly and see where they hit. It might be thanksgiving, but you're struggling to find much to be grateful for. 

🍂

"Mandy has a Christmas recital. I'll be sending the invite in the family chat," Tia, your sister, proclaims. "If you can make it, she'd be so happy, huh, sweetie?" 

She pets behind her daughter's ear and makes her giggle. Every awes and cooes at the little girl. Just like when your sister was her age, she's the princess of the family. 

"I can try to bring the kids," Rodney says. "We're thinking to get Kelly into dance next year. I need to get used to those things." 

Everyone laughs. You're not very amused. You're happy the kids have hobbies, that they are doing interesting things, but you just don't care that much. Still, your happy to be able to fade into the background. 

"I'm sure your sister can make it," your mother says, bring you back into the universe, "she doesn't have anything else going on." 

Your eyes dart back and forth. Your mouth is full of potatoes. You gulp painfully. 

"I can set the date aside. I still have some vacation left," you choke out. You can't make up an excuse with a whole audience to call you out. 

You sink back into silence as Tia goes on about the show. They're doing The Nutcracker. Oh joy. You were never a fan. Why can't they do something fun, like The Grinch? 

"Don't think I'm included in that invite," Andrew says under his breath from your left shoulder. As the two loners at the table, you're put together. "Kinda awkward." 

He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. You shift and hide your embarrassment. You forgot there was a complete stranger here to witness your judgement. 

"Right, well... I'm sure you have enough going on," you say. 

"I'm sure you do too," he pokes at the yams. "Kids keep you busy but life is already hectic." 

"Sure," you agree dully. You don't want to be rude. "you have kids?" 

"One. A son. Grown. He went to his girlfriend's for the holiday and his mom... is not in town." 

"Bad timing," you take another bite of potatoes. Maybe next year you can come down with a timely case of the flu. 

"Don't be silly. She doesn't have a boyfriend. We'd all know," your mother trills with laughter. You pop your head up as the hairs on your neck tingle. You know she means you before you even catch her gaze. "It'd be such an achievement, she'd have to shout it from the rooftops." 

You lost track of the conversation and you're not sure how you became the butt of the joke, but you're tired. It's supposed to be a day for family but it just feels like you're being cast out of yours. You put your fork down. 

"I'm going to clear my plate. Think I had too big a snack on the drive here," you stand, gritting back your irritation. "As usual, stuffing's delicious." 

You get up and make your way along the table. The silence is dense. Oh well. If they want to make this painful, you can do the same. 

You go to the kitchen and find a container. You scrape your leftovers into it and shake your head. You suppose you are behind. You're thirty years old. Next year you'll be thirty-one and her chiding will be even louder. The ticking of the clock will only ger worse as the years go by. 

"You're right, stuffing's good," Andy says. 

You wince and glance over your shoulder. "Uh, yeah. Like I said, think my eyes were bigger than my stomach." 

He comes up next to you and rinses off his plate, "well, I think my stomach would be turning too after that." 

"It's whatever," you shrug. 

"Thirty isn't old. You got time," he says. 

"Thanks," you reply tersely. 

"Not that it's any of my business." 

You're silent. It isn't but you're not going to be rude enough to say that out loud. Unlike the rest of your family, you can keep your thoughts to yourself. They might think you're immature because you're not living behind a white picket fence, but at least you don't act like a teenager. 

"It's better to take your time. You know, you rush into big decisions and you can't undo them. They don't always turn the way people promise," he says. "You follow that road map, take one wrong turn and you're wife's spending Thanksgiving with her 'work husband' at a hotel." He opens the dishwasher and wedges his plate between the metal, "Work husband, secret boyfriend, you know..." 

You're struck by the revelation. You can hear the tension in his voice. The hurt, the anger. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," you utter dumbly. 

"You're sorry? She isn't," he reaches for your plate and rinses it next. "I'm not telling you because I want you to feel bad for me. I guess I'm trying to commiserate. It could be worse." He adds your plate to the washer, "you're doing nothing wrong. Being alone means you have choices. Being tied to someone... you have obligations." 

"Yeah, sounds about right," you say. "Well, thanks. Not to benefit off your pain but yeah." You put the lid on the tupperware and sidle along to put it in the fridge, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air. Getting a bit overcrowded in here." 

"A little," he agrees. 

You leave and hold your breath until you get to the front door. Who knew the stranger at the table would be the only one to make you feel welcome? 

You grab your coat from the guest room and push your feet into your boots at the front door. You go outside into the brisk air. It's actually nice. Refreshing almost. 

You sit on the porch bench. In the colder months, it's rarely used. It hasn't snowed yet but the frost glistening on the grass is foreboding. 

You tuck your hands into your sleeves and look along the street. The other houses with yellow windows, glowing with the warmth and shadow of happy families. This time of year has only ever been stressful to you. You're never a part of the fun, you're usually the source of it. 

The front door opens and you fight to keep your unease under wraps. You don't need your mom lecturing you. Again. Or Tia telling you not to be jealous. Whatever happens is always your fault. 

"Whew, it's cold," Andy's voice eases your nerves as it assures you it isn't who you fear. 

"Yep, I don't mind. It's the only thin I like about this time of year." 

"Really?" He nears and sits on the other end of the bench. "I'm a summer person, I guess. Used to be we'd go to some resort for New Years." He says. 

"Sounds nice," you say. 

"I know. I'm moaning about a luxury," he scoffs, "trust me, I get it. I got it all, what do I got to whine about?" 

"I wouldn't say that. You never know what people have going on." 

"Nope," he agrees and rubs his hands together. He's quiet as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs. He bends and unbends his fingers as he examines them then sits up again. "Brrr. Only good thing about this weather, snuggle weather." 

He laughs. You try to. It's an awkward joke. 

"Maybe I should get a cat," he suggests. 

"Maybe," you clutch your hands tight. You should go inside. You know he's being nice but he's ruined the moment. 

Your teeth chatter as you take a deep breath of the late autumn air. Just a little longer before you go back. You close your eyes. 

The bench creaks and you think he's getting up. He must get the hint. Instead, as you open your eyes, you feel a weight across your shoulders. You flinch and peek at him from the corner of your eye. 

"You're shivering," he says. 

You look at him then back to the road. You should pull away but you can't. It feels mean. 

"God, my hands are so cold," he grips your shoulder as he puts his other hand on your thigh. 

"Woah," you catch his thick fingers. 

"Come on, let's get warmed up," he breaks through your resistance and rubs your leg. 

"Alright, I don't know what you think--" 

"What's so wrong about it? Like trains passing through the night. My wife's cheating, you're single, we could have some fun," he purrs as he holds you against him. 

"Um, no thanks," you grab his fingers again. "I'm flattered but--" 

"Shh, shh," he peels his hand away from your leg, once more evading your grasp, and grabs your chin. "Your mom told me all about it. How you can't get a date--" 

"That's not--" you latch onto his wrist, "stop, please, Andy." 

"Come on," he turns your head and nuzzles your nose with his, "I'm so fucking lonely. My wife hasn't touched me in over a year." 

"Your wife-- Andy," you hiss. 

"Just kiss me, please? That's all I want. Just a little affection. To feel wanted." 

"You're-- stop. Let go of me," you try to dislodge his hold on you. He's too strong.  

He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours. You murmur and slep his chest with your other hands. He hooks his arm around you as he angles you toward him. You writhe and bite his lip. 

He gasps and pulls back, keeping you locked in his embrace, "listen, sweetheart, you wanna play hard-to-get," he squeezes your jaw until you whimper, "what's mom gonna think when she catches you all over her married coworker?" 

"No, that's not--" 

"I'm sure she'll believe you," he snarls and slides his hand down to your throat. 

"Why..." you croak. 

"Baby, please, it's not a bad thing," he moves you with him as he edges off the bench. He turns, one arm still around you, his other hand locked onto your neck. He bends and forces you onto your back as he settles over you. "I'm going to make you feel just as good as you make me feel." 

You wriggle and whine. What he says is just as scary as what he hasn't said. He'll make you feel as good as you do him, or as bad.

[noiriarti]

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with? 

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send. 

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him. 

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk.  The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe. 

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack. 

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about. 

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw. 

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see  a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it. 

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath. 

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk. 

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

[peachhcs]

it’s a forever kind of thing

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

while in san jose, samy and will realize they can’t stay away from each other and all it takes is a dinner out to get them back together

6k words

warnings: 18+!!, smut (but like halfway through), making out, hickeys, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex (she’s on the pill), please read at your own risk!

GUYS! it’s here!! the long awaited fic where samy and will get back together! instead of breaking it into two, i made it one long fic, so halfway through is when they have sex, so if you don’t wanna read that u can skip over it, but i decided to just put it all in one. this took me forever to write lowkey bc i never knew how to write it, but i like how this came out so i hope you guys too!! yay!! get excited for happy will and samy coming your way again!

au masterlist

the san jose heat wasn't a joke. any room in the apartment felt like it was 100° and it didn't help that they were trying to unpack boxes and build things in the high temperatures. samy was on the floor trying to figure out how to put together a shelf while also wiping the beads of sweat running down her forehead every five seconds. even the five different box fans scattered around the apartment didn't do anyone justice.

somewhere further in was will helping his mom put the bed together while grace did her best to hang frames in one of the hallways. the four of them were working hard, but the heat was quickly getting to everyone and what should've been a four hour job turned into almost six hours by now.

"what the fuck," samy mumbled to herself, eyes bouncing between the directions and the pieces of wood that definitely didn't fit together even though they were supposed to.

will should've recruited her brothers to fly over since they were way better at building things than she could ever be. whatever the directions were trying to tell her were not making any sense.

she was really tempted to call luke and bug him about it, but a different voice startled her a bit before she even pulled her phone out.

will's gaze stuck to hers where he stood in the doorway, "need help?"

samy met his eyes, flushing under his stare and sweaty figure, "uh..i mean..i think i'm doing it right but for some reason it doesn't look like it," she admitted truthfully.

will took that as his cue to crouch down. samy slid him the paper and let him read it over incase she was just missing something entirely.

"well i think the first problem is that these aren't the same pieces in the picture," the blonde determined, eyes gazing at the wood.

"i fucking knew it! i knew they didn't go together!" the girl exclaimed in triumph because she'd been feeling stupid about that for thirty minutes.

"i don't need shelves anyway. they're stupid," will shrugged some while disregarding the paper onto the floor.

"yeah, just make your own or some shit," they shared a small laugh which was happening a lot more frequently since they got there.

things were..rocky still, but it wasn't as bad. they even sat next to each other on the plane even though neither of them really spoke. it was progress and that was what mattered anyway.

"i can't believe it's so hot. i feel like i'm dying," will slid further onto the ground where he spread himself out against the hardwood.

"you better get used to it. it's supposed to get even hotter next week," samy informed, slipping to will that she may have been looking at the weather for san jose for him

"ugh, don't tell me that. i'm not made for the heat," he pushed his curls away from his sweaty forehead, but samy sort of found the movement just the tiniest bit attractive.

both of their hair was way more frizzier than usual because of the crazy heat, but something about it made the brunette a bit weak in the knees seeing will like that.

"did you get the bed together at least?" the girl wondered, leaning back against her palms.

"mostly, yeah. mom's doing the finishing touch. i had to walk out of there before she like exploded at me," the hockey player laughed and then samy did too. they knew how colleen got because she always wanted everything to be perfect.

"hey, one bed down. that's a win."

"yeah, sure. it's a win if you don't count my mom snapping at me every five seconds," will rolled his eyes.

"the heat makes people cranky. i don't blame her. you're kind of hard to work with sometimes," samy shrugged and will's head snapped up.

"what does that mean?"

"i dunno. whatever you want it to mean," she hummed earning a playful groan from the boy beside her. she managed a small smile, lifting her gaze to the rest of the apartment.

the four of them got most of it decorated and it was actually coming out really well. it screamed will and samy knew it was because almost all the ideas were taken from the pinterest board she made for this exact occasion.

most of the apartment was thanks to samy. colleen always said she had an eye for designing.

the girl's gaze landed on a picture frame stuck up on a shelf that did get put together and hung up. she stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out who was in the photo because she'd never seen it before. it wasn't until a minute later that she realized it was a picture of her and will.

they looked a bit young. 17 or so? samy was in her high school soccer uniform with a large medal hanging off her neck and will hanging off her side. they had big, bright smiles across their lips and both of them held the number 1 on the fingers for the photo. samy had no clue when or who took that photo, but it brought another smile to her lips.

"who took that photo of us?" she let the question slip out. will finally sat back up, trying to see what photo was being asked about.

"the one up there?"

"yeah," samy pointed to the shelf.

"uh..i think my mom took it. you'd just won the state championship for your last high school game," will explained the backstory and suddenly, it all came back to the girl.

"samy!" the brunette spun around. she caught sight of her three brothers rushing towards her in pure excitement. luke got to her first as he picked her up and spun her around in a tight hold.

"i'm so proud of you, samy!" the curly-haired boy exclaimed.

"you did so great, squirt! congratulations!" jack and quinn hugged her next. samy beamed from ear to ear at all the praise while the emotions of her last high school game ever started coursing through her.

"you're a fucking state champion for the second year in a row! how fucking cool!" jack rambled on and said how there's gonna be competition on the mantle where their parents put their kids' most important trophies and medals.

samy sort of stopped listening to her brothers when she saw will pushing his way through with grace and his parents in tow. she sort of shoved jack away as she rushed to will. he opened his arms wide and they met in the middle win a similar hug that luke gave her.

"i'm so, so proud of you, hughesy," will hummed into her shoulder.

"i'm so glad you came," the girl grinned some more.

"i want a picture!" colleen said, her phone already out. will let samy go as he shuffled to her side. she leaned her head into him until their heads touched and then she stuck up her pointer finger to signal as number 1.

she must've been so caught up in the moment that samy forgot the picture was even taken. the memory made her smile because she had all of her important people at that game and that meant so much to her.

"wow, that feels so long ago," samy finally spoke again, bringing her knees to her chest.

"yeah, i know. we were so..oblivious back then," will let the words slip from his mouth as he watched the girl's reaction.

her body tensed up a bit because she knew what he was talking about—so oblivious to the feelings they had for each other and what was to come out of that and where it would lead them.

"yeah. we were," the brunette hummed out.

she thought about the conversation with gabe and ryan from last week. she knew that everything they said was true, she just hadn't chosen to believe it quite yet. plus, what if she was scared of what her heart was trying to tell her?

obviously, it had something to say if she was sitting in san jose helping her ex decorate his new apartment even after he broke her heart and she was supposed to hate him for it. where was the hate when they sat inches apart in the living room without a couch all while reminiscing on their younger years?

"when do you start preseason?" will changed the subject and samy refocused her attention on him.

"next week," the girl beamed a bit. she was excited for the new season knowing a national title was definitely in their future this year.

"wow, that's soon."

"i suppose so, yeah. when do you start?"

"next week," will said and it was hard to believe this whole nhl thing was actually happening.

it didn't even seem like a reality when they were kids and now will was living out his dream of playing for an nhl team.

"i don't know if i've said this..but.i am proud of you. really proud. you're gonna do great here," the air in the room shifted a bit. it felt bittersweet hearing samy say those things after will basically pushed her out of his life.

she'd always support him no matter what.

the boy's gaze softened out as he ducked his eyes, "thanks, samy. that means a lot coming from you."

"you really do deserve all of this. you've worked really hard for it," she nodded as if she was affirming her words.

will blushed, but he didn't do anything to hide it, "thanks for coming. i-i know things haven't been...and i know i can't keep saying it, but i really am sorry for hurting you. i thought i was saving you from hurt, but i did the opposite."

"thank you for saying that. i..i don't really know what our relationship will be or if it ever will go back to how it was before this, but..i'm willing to try," the two shared a smile.

"i know this is probably gonna be a crazy ask, but..since we only have one more night until you leave tomorrow, would you wanna..like..get dinner? just the two of us?" will dared to ask because he'd regret it more if he didn't ask and lose his chance at proving himself to her.

this time it was samy's turn to blush, "are you asking me on a date?"

"do you want it to be a date?" they held each other's gazes for a moment before samy slowly nodded.

"yeah, let's go to dinner together," she smiled and so did will.

"really?"

"yeah, i think it'd be fun."

so it was settled. will and samy were going on a date that could potentially fix everything between them or be a total shit show. they both secretly hoped for the former.

—

they decided on 7. samy came out of the guest room in a dress marcie packed away for her when she told her friend she was flying to san jose with will. marcie claimed it would be "this exact occasion" meaning the girl was also hoping they'd make up their differences on this trip.

it wasn't anything special. it went down to her ankles in a soft pink with embroidered roses down each side of the dress. samy paired it with some sandal wedges and maybe her hand shook she did her makeup, but that didn't matter because this felt like another grace period.

if it went well, then..who knows. if it went horribly, they'd never talk about it again and at least samy was leaving so they wouldn't have to face the awkwardness too much. again, both of them hoped for the former.

grace saw samy first when she walked into the kitchen. the older girl's expression slipped into a smirk as she nudged her brother's arm who's gaze wasn't on samy. however, when he did see the girl for the first time, his eyes were the size of the moon and he couldn't look away.

"too much?" samy wondered nervously. she didn't know how dressy they were getting, but based on will's button down and dress shorts, she decided it was the right option.

"no, no. you look..you look great," will gulped while grace didn't stop her little snicker.

"oh wow, what's the occasion?" colleen came into the room, a look of surprise on her features seeing will and samy so dressed up.

"we're going for dinner," the blonde explained to his mom.

"the two of you?" the older woman's eyebrows raised

"yeah. it won't be long," will said.

the look on colleen's face said everything she didn't except a little, "have fun then."

the two managed small smiles as will led samy out of the apartment. grace and colleen didn't say anything until the door closed and gentle smiles fell on their lips.

"i really hope it works out between them," mrs. smith hummed.

"oh, i think it will. he won't let her go again," grace said.

will and samy started up the street where they'd have to walk a few blocks to the restaurant they decided on. they didn't say much, but the silence was comforting. it felt like a first date all over again except they knew everything about one another already.

"this is weird, but like in a good way," samy finally spoke first.

will managed a light laugh, "what does that mean?"

"like..weird i didn't think i'd ever agree to this, but i'm glad i did?" it was hard to put into words for samy.

her heart told her one thing while her head said something completely different.

"well, i hope you're still glad by the end of the night," will said, their gazes meeting briefly.

samy thought he looked better than ever. his curls were the perfect amount of curl and whatever the dev camp did to him worked some wonders because..wow. not that samy could ever peel her eyes off him, she really couldn't now.

they made it the restaurant and samy got another perfect excuse to stare at will when he sat down across from her at their little table in a corner.

"this okay?" will wondered, meaning there they'd been sat.

"it's perfect. i like how cozy it feels," the brunette smiled. will did too because he knew how much samy liked the corner tables because he also knew she felt too open when they sat in the middle of the room.

they spent a bit of time looking over the menu when the waiter came over. she smiled at the two, "i really love your dress. it's beautiful," she said to samy.

"oh, thank you. i appreciate that," the younger girl beamed.

after ordering, samy and will got into a bit of small talk that slowly shifted into regular talk that shifted into what felt like how they used to talk before things happened.

"you ever think about what you'd do if you got injured or something and you couldn't play anymore and had to retire?" samy stirred her straw around her cup.

"yeah, all the time. that actually might be me and my parents biggest worry," will laughed lightly.

"what would you do?"

"probably be really sad for awhile, but i'd get better and try to find another hobby i could take on," the blonde shrugged.

"i remember when we were kids you always said you'd become a coach if you couldn't ever skate anymore," samy said softly and will's own expression softened at the idea of samy remembering that.

"i really can't picture my life without hockey," they shared a laugh.

"yeah that sounds like you. you're all in, but i get it. hockey's my family's whole life. i can't imagine life without it either," the soccer player hummed.

"i just know i'd be so upset if the one thing i dedicate my life to can't happen anymore. it'd honestly make me have an identity crisis," will frowned.

"i kind of feel the same way about soccer. i don't really know who i am outside of the sports i've grown up playing," samy laughed but more as to hide the small pain she felt at the idea of really not knowing who she was.

"well, i think you're really generous. you have a big heart and you don't ever back down from anything. you're great with kids and your love for everyone you meet is super contagious," will didn't miss a beat with that leaving the girl across from him in surprise.

her cheeks flushed an embarrassing red, "you're just saying that."

"i'm not. you're probably one of the best people i know."

the look in will's eyes told samy how serious he was being. she just disregarded his comments despite the pounding in her chest and her hot cheeks.

the two spent the entire rest of dinner lost in conversation. both of their hearts felt full when they made it back outside where the temperature finally felt a few degrees cooler.

"this was a lot of fun. i really enjoyed it," samy said to will, a deep, loving smile on her lips.

"i'm glad you had fun. i did too," the boy smiled back.

they stood in a beat of silence trying to figure out what the next move was. tension filled the air, but not an angry one that's been there for awhile. this tension was different. it was thick, but heavy with what seemed like love and lust.

"would it be crazy if i kissed you?" will's voice was small and a bit shaky when he asked.

his eyes were everywhere on the girl in front of him because he'd been inching touch her since she walked out in the dress clinging to her body. actually, he'd been thinking about this since last week when they were at his going away party.

"no. i don't think so," samy inched herself closer to the blonde. her eyes were also everywhere and her breath hitched when he laid a hand on her lip.

will looked at her for one last reassuring look that he could go all in. when samy nodded he took that opportunity. his lips were hard against hers and so was his hand on her hip.

they molded into one another like they never spent time apart. samy's hands found their respective places on will's chest and in his hair at the back of his head.

their steady breathing turned into heavy pants when they pulled away for a second. big smiles danced on both of their lips at the feeling of being pressed up against one another because it was a feeling they missed a lot.

"is this.." will's voice faded off because he didn't quite know what he was asking.

"it's okay. more than okay," samy nodded eagerly.

"maybe we should go back to my place?" the boy said because they were still on the sidewalk and people were walking by.

"yeah, right. of course," the girl nodded and they started back down the sidewalk to will's apartment.

the smiles on their lips were evident and they grew even bigger when their fingers slowly intertwined with one another. earlier samy's heart and head were in different places making her feel lost. right now, they were in the exact same place and she knew exactly what she was feeling: love.

because she'd always love will. even after he broke her heart. even after he did everything to prove to her he regretted everything he did. she loved him through and through and samy knew he felt the exact same way about her.

of course, that didn't mean her guard was broken down completely. there was still a lot of cracks to be repaired and that only came with time and more trust.

right now, though, none of that mattered when samy stumbled back into the apartment with will. it was dark since grace and mrs. smith headed back to the hotel room for the night because maybe they both knew the date would lead to something more.

will's lips were back on samy's as soon as the door was closed. he pushed her up against the hardwood as she reciprocated his actions, kissing his lips hard and running her hands through his now messy curls.

they were fully making out—hungry for each other's lips because they'd been apart for so long. samy's hands fumbled with the buttons of will's shirt in a desperate attempt to peel it off of him.

"i really missed you," will mumbled against her lips between the kissing. he felt the girl smile.

"i missed you too," she said as the blonde pulled her closer against his body.

his boner pressed against her lower stomach and it sent butterflies through the girl, especially when will's one hand moved to grab her ass. a noise escaped her lips right into will's mouth.

"is this okay?" the blonde asked, worried he was moving too fast.

"yes, it's perfect," samy started becoming breathless again. she pushed the rest of his shirt down his arms, exposing his entire torso. her eyes racked down his toned body, gripping slightly on the muscled arms.

"they've been working you good," the girl laughed a little making will blush.

"you think so?" he grinned, always loving samy's praise.

"mhm," her words got lost in her throat when she pulled the boy back to her lips.

they made out a bit longer until will's lips dropped further down. he kissed down her neck until getting to her collarbone and the top of her breasts. the blonde began sucking lightly and little moans finally escaped samy's lips at the feeling. her head hit the door, her grip hard on will's arms.

"fuck, will," samy moaned out, her sounds going straight to his dick still throbbing in his pants.

"missed this so much," the boy's voice was muffled against her skin. she laughed, tugging his curls which in turn made will suck harder.

"you're gonna get me in trouble with these," samy said knowing all the girls in the locker room would see them next week. all will did was shrug.

"good. they'll know who they came from," he looked up for a second and the look in his eyes held a certain type of possession in them.

"can i at least return the favor?" she's been dying to have her mouth on will's body since she saw those pictures of him at the bauer combine a few months ago.

"just keep them low so no one sees them," will said, standing back up with a little smirk on his face.

they switched positions so will was against the door and samy didn't waste any time placing her lips halfway down his stomach. immediately, will's head was against the door with his hands gripping the girl's arms. he really did miss her lips on him like this.

"jesus christ," he mumbled lowly, eyes closing in pleasure.

the girl's lips nipped and sucked every part of his skin. sometimes she'd give a little bite and will would have to restrain himself from tugging her hair. when she moved further down closer to his waistband the blonde nearly saw stars.

she didn't even have to touch him and he was falling apart for her. "oh, samy. fuck," his moans filled her with pride because she knew no one else could make will feel like this just from some little hickeys.

she stood back up and will's lust-filled gaze stuck to her. their lips met again in a more passionate kiss where will led her to the bedroom since the living room still had no couch. samy left her shoes and followed the blonde to the bed where she had one thing in her mind.

she went for his pants, tugging them down his legs and leaving him in just his underwear. will looked up at her with slightly heavy pants, his heart pounding but not because he was nervous. samy's eyes were on the bulge in his underwear, reaching forward to wrap her hand around it. will jumped from her delicate touch, jaw clenching.

he was hot and heavy and samy knew he was already ready for her. she liked how hard will always got just from making out where she barely even touched him.

"s-samy, please," will got out, desperate for anything more than her stroking him. his desperate tone made the brunette smile as she finally took him out of his underwear.

he was red all over and samy's mouth watered in anticipation. she leaned herself down, sticking her tongue out to slowly lick a stripe from the bottom up. will's hips immediately stuttered on the first touch.

"fuck."

samy grabbed ahold of him with her hand, her thumb swiping over the sensitive tip before plunging back down his length. will groaned out, gripping the bedsheets while his stomach clenched multiple times. finally, her mouth locked around him, going in deeper than ever making the blonde nearly scream.

"shit. shit," will instinctively bucked his hips up where samy placed one hand down so he couldn't move.

"gotta stay still, pretty boy," the nickname left her lips faster than she could stop it. it was music to will's ears though because he's missed hearing her call him that.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. feels so good," he mumbled out a bit incoherently. any straight thought was quickly leaving the hockey player's brain while the pleasure took over.

just for that, samy sucked him harder, using her hand to pump the part she couldn't fit in her mouth. will was on cloud 9. his head pushed back into the pillow while he did his best to keep himself from bucking up, but each little suck and scrape on his cock was making it harder and harder for him to stay still.

"fuck—i'm not gonna last. gonna make me cum," will got out when he forced his gaze back on the girl below him. the sight was to die for. samy was on her knees still in her dress, but her tits were practically spilling out of it along with the hickeys scattered across her chest.

she figured will wouldn't last long based on the way he kept twitching in her mouth. she didn't blame him though because her underwear were soaked all the way through at the sound of him begging to cum.

"uh, samy. fuck— please. wanna cum," his words jumbled together as his stomach clenched and the feeling continued building.

"come for me, will. it's okay," samy finally said and will let go. his hips bucked up, uncontrollable moans escaping his lips as he released his load into her mouth.

she took it all, swallowing it down until he was finished. she let go with a pop and will's dick fell back onto his stomach twitching still. samy grinned at him.

"f-fuck. i haven't..done that in so long," the blonde mumbled meaning he hasn't done anything with anyone since they broke up.

he pulled her down on top of him, going for her lips again where he could taste himself on her and some of her strawberry lipgloss. in between the kissing, will's fingers found the little zipper on the back of the dress. he slowly pulled it down where samy helped by taking her arms out of the straps and pushing it the rest of the way down her body until it pooled at her legs.

the hockey player's gaze glued itself to the matching set samy sported. her pretty pink lacey bra and hot pink thong matched her dress perfectly and will swore he felt his cock harden all over again.

"what is this?" will mumbled, eyes still glued to the underwear.

"what? my underwear?" samy laughed lightly.

"you're gonna fucking kill me," the blonde said making the brunette smile. she let will flip them over so she was on the bed now. he stared down at her, eyes filled with lust and love.

"gonna make you feel so good," he said with one finger hooking into the waistband of her thong.

"you better keep your word," samy teased him.

will's lips were on her a second later. he started just below her chest, kissing down her stomach in slightly wet kisses until he reached the waistband. he pushed the band aside, eyes glowing at the site of samy's already wet pussy.

"jesus. i haven't even done anything and you're this wet already?" his eyes briefly found hers and all samy could do was shrug.

"your moans were hot. what can i say?" as much as will tried to show his dominance, the twitch in his cock at her words said everything about how much control samy had no matter what.

will didn't waste another second attaching his lips. his grip was hard on her thighs as his tongue slowly explored her insides. her hands flew to his hair where she pulled and tugged hard when will found the perfect spots.

"mmm, fuck will. just like that," samy nodded, eyes closed and back arching off the bed the deeper he got.

"fuck you taste so good," the blonde said. he could do this forever if he could because there was no better taste or feeling than his girl and the way she harshly tugged at his curls.

her little moans and whimpers started getting to him again. will moved his hips against the mattress, desperate to find some relief in his already aching cock while he continued his attack on samy's beautiful pussy.

"will, i'm gonna cum," samy got out, that feeling quick to snap in her stomach because she too hasn't felt this in so long, so she wasn't gonna last at all.

"that's it, pretty girl. come for me," will encouraged and samy did just that.

she released right onto him in a loud moan, glad that they had the apartment all to themselves. when she was finished she met will's gaze where he licked his lips clean and beamed up at her.

"you're actually amazing," he hummed earning a little eye roll from the girl. she tugged him up to kiss his lips, also tasting herself on him. will pulled at her hips, their bodies pressing together until samy flipped them over again. she straddled his lap, the hockey player gazing up at her in a loopy grin.

"wanna fuck you," she said, hands running down his torso. he nodded, hands eagerly squeezing her thighs.

"yes, please. want you to ride me. haven't seen you on top in months," will was a mess making samy smile. she leaned back to stroke will's cock again, getting it ready for her.

"wait, fuck. i don't have any condoms," the blonde quickly realized that in the moving process he didn't buy any and he threw away the ones he had before so his mom didn't see them.

"it's okay. i'm on the pill and i trust you," samy said like it wasn't a big deal but will's eyes widened.

"a-are you sure?" he's dreamed about having sex without a condom, but he didn't think that would happen for another year or two.

"positive. do you trust me?" samy asked and the boy quickly nodded.

"of course i do. i-i just.." his voice faded.

"we don't have to if you're not comfortable. i was just offering it," samy noticed his shift, but will shook his head.

"no, no. i want to. i just.." his face blushed a hot red, "i probably won't last long at all," it felt embarrassing to say, but samy only smiled.

"it's okay. honestly, that's flattering of you to say," they shared a laugh and she felt will relax a bit more underneath her.

"as long as you're sure, i'm sure," will nodded more firmly this time.

the brunette giggled as she pushed her thong aside and started lining will up with her entrance. he slipped in almost immediately and both of their eyes closed at the feeling. he stretched her out, the pleasure outweighing the pain and will's hands carefully gripped samy's hips in an attempt to keep his hips still until he was all the way in.

"oh god. holy fuck," he stuttered, his cock already throbbing for a release.

samy smiled, carefully moving her hips when she felt ready. the pace started slow until will started matching her pace with little thrusts of her hips. they began moving at a more steady pace, the only sounds in the room were their skin slapping together.

"fuck, yeah. feels so good, will," samy moaned out, hands sprawled across his chest for leverage.

"you're so beautiful," the boy mumbled, eyes roaming everywhere across her body.

his hands grabbed handfuls of her ass, moaning out at the feeling of her in his hold. little beads of sweat littered their bodies and it wasn't just because of the 100° temperatures anymore.

"fuck samy. 'm so close. god, you're so beautiful. i love you. i love you," will's words jumbled together again into incoherent thoughts and sentences. samy blushed hearing him say i love you.

"gonna come for me will?" she said between her own pants.

"yeah, gonna cum. gonna cum so hard," he continued.

"me too, pretty boy. you feel so good," samy threw her head back. the way will's cock continuously pierced her open had her falling apart on top of him. the feeling she was familiar with built up in her stomach until finally snapping when will thrusted particularly hard.

she moaned out, her hips stuttering and her orgasm taking over. the feeling of her clenching around his length also sent will over the edge.

he thrusted up, spilling his load inside of her, more uncontrollable moans leaving his lips and his head digging into the pillow.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. oh, fuck," he thrusted one more time into her, the last few drops leaving his now throbbing cock. samy fell onto the bed beside him, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths.

"that was.."

"really great," will finished her sentence. they laid there staring at the ceiling for a few more moments until the blonde shifted his gaze over to her.

he suddenly worried what this meant now. especially because samy was leaving tomorrow to go back to michigan. she felt his gaze on her, so she turned her body into him, eyes on him as well.

"so.." the boy became shy, his voice fading off in fear that if he asked, samy would say that this was a one time thing and she didn't want him back after all.

"so.." she copied his tone, her finger tracing his shoulder.

"what now?" he dared to ask.

"you said you love me?" samy said, remembering will's confession through his pleasure a few minutes ago. she watched his cheeks heat up again, but he didn't look away.

"i do. i mean i always have," the blonde admitted because it was true. he loved the girl beside him a whole, whole lot.

"you really hurt me," samy stared at his arm, will's smile disappearing into a frown.

"i know," their voices were quiet now.

"it's not gonna be all perfect like it was before all of this happened, you know," she continued.

"i know."

"it's gonna take awhile for me to completely trust you again."

"i know."

samy met his gaze again. his eyes had never left hers and she could see the love hiding within them the more she stared at him.

"i love you, too, will," their smiles slowly started returning.

"i promise i won't hurt you. i can't lose you again and i know that now," will shifted so they laid facing each other. he reached his hand out to brush some hair away from her face.

"you never lost me. i was always there," samy smiled a little and will beamed, pulling her closer to him so they were nearly chest to chest.

"i wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," the sadness crept back in knowing they could've had so much more time.

"me neither, but maybe i can make something happen to fly out for your first game," the girl grinned, trying to keep the mood light.

"i'd really love that," will returned her contagious smile.

they spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms, holding onto all the time they had left until samy left for michigan and their long distance continued. this time, samy definitely knew her heart and head were on the same page because each of them were quiet in her mind as she fell asleep in will's hold.

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Straight Shooter - Tighnari x f!reader

Summary: First impressions aren't easy to overcome, but for someone like Tighnari, they're a piece of cake.

Additional info: cute and wholesome fluff, meet cute, enemies to lovers (for, like, two seconds lol), 1.1k words

(Thanks to @paimonial-rage and @andromeda-nova-writing for beta reading!)

*****

Sand got between your toes and rubbed against the soles of your feet as you hurried down the dirt road. Gandharva Ville was in sight – thirty minutes later than planned.

Collei waved at you in the distance with both arms stretched out wide. As you came near, someone else was beside her waiting at the entrance of a house. His ears were his most prominent feature, but his arms were crossed as he tapped his foot. He was irritated.

You stopped in front of Collei, out of breath and panting for air.

“You're finally here!” said Collei. “I was worried something horrible happened to you.”

“I'm so sorry. I–” You cut your own words short because you didn't have an acceptable explanation. You simply slept in and that was a weak excuse for the first day on the job.

The guy scoffs at you. “Seems like you're following in your father's footsteps, huh?”

At first, you blinked a couple of times, stunned at his words. A growing portion of both anger and embarrassment burned inside you. You gripped your bag, hands already sweating from the run to Gandharva Ville. This was an awful start to your day and this guy made it worse.

“I'll be around the back if you need anything,” he said to Collei. With that, he left the two of you alone.

“Collei, who was that?” you asked. You were somehow able to conceal the irritation in your voice.

“That was Master Tighnari. He can be a little harsh at times,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “but he's a really great guy.”

Her words didn't exactly quell the sensation in your gut. This Tighnari guy criticized both you and your dad in a single shot when he didn't even know you.

You put those thoughts aside to refocus on the job ahead. Once inside the house, you took out a textbook and a few sheets of paper and placed them on Collei’s desk. You instructed Collei to work through exercises to evaluate her current language skills. With excitement, she picked up her pencil and went straight to work. Fortunately, you could tell right away she'd be a good student. 

Despite your earlier encounter with Tighnari, you were glad your father had told you about this job. Your previous one was getting tiring and you could schedule tutoring around other tasks and errands more easily. If only you could forget what your dad added.

"Who knows? Maybe you can even find a guy you like at this job," he told you.

"And how old exactly are your coworkers?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

You scoffed at the thought. You knew your dad was just teasing but you were content with being single. However, if a good guy came along, you wouldn't complain.

“I think I'm done now,” said Collei as she handed you the sheet with a bashful smile.

“You don't need to be so nervous around me, Collei,” you said. “I'm not that much older than you.”

Her smile grew larger. “I'm just really glad I was able to find someone like you. Master Tighnari has been teaching me this whole time and it was taking a toll on him.”

“Really?” you said, raising a brow.

“Mmhmm. He has a lot of work as the lead forest watcher so I wanted to help him out by hiring a dedicated tutor,” she explained.

So this guy would go out of his way to help someone like Collei. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you initially thought, but you still had some reservations.

After completing the lesson for the day, you packed up your belongings and Collei thanked you for your work. She was even eager for your return tomorrow, bright-eyed and ready to learn.

You stretched and yawned as you exited the house, and at the edge of the trail, you saw Tighnari standing there as if he were waiting for the two of you to finish. 

You clutched your bag close to your chest as you walked towards the trail. You put some distance between yourself and Tighnari as you walked past him. Just as you thought you were about to successfully avoid him, he called out to you.

“Could I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.

You took a breath. “What is it?” you said, turning to him. 

“There's something I want to clear up, if that's alright with you.” 

You loosen the grip on your bag slightly.

“It seems that my comment earlier has caused some… undesirable effects. It wasn't my intention to be rude to you like that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow.

“You see, I'm quite sarcastic around your father. As my senior, he often pokes fun at me and I, in return, have my own way of responding to him. It's simply how we behave as coworkers.”

So that was what it was. You had thrown your own retorts to your father’s silly quips as well.

“I mistakenly assumed the two of you would have a similar temperament,” he continued, “which is why I behaved in that manner. When I realized there was a chance you might be more like Collei, I decided it would be best to clear this up with you. I didn't want to leave you with a bad impression of me. And so, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You relaxed your shoulders, and for the first time today, took a good look at him. An ear was slightly bent, showing that he was a bit ashamed of his assumptions of you, yet his eyes looked directly at you, sympathetic yet focused.

This was Tighnari. A straight shooter.

“Thank you,” you told him. “For clearing that up, I mean. Not just anyone would take the time to do that.”

“It's not a problem. It's the sensible solution. I'd do it for anyone,” he told you. He lifted his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. “Anyway, are you heading home now? I hope it's not too far of a journey for you.”

“I'm actually headed to the city to meet up with some friends.”

“I see,” he said with a hand on his chin. “In that case, I'll leave you to it. I'm heading to Pardis Dhyai in a bit. I'll see you tomorrow then.”

You lifted your hand to give a subtle wave as he walked back to the house. Collei left the building after hearing his call, and she retold her day to him with a skip in her step as the two of them went to look for a fellow forest watcher.

You spun on your heel and made your way to the city. Your feet were clear of dirt and sand. Perhaps your dad was right. The guys here didn't seem so bad after all.

*****

I hope you liked it! I might add a part two some day, but for now, it'll remain as a one-shot. :) (You can also check out my other fics as well.)

[sports-on-sundays]

Can u write some Marc guiu where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks and during s*x Marc noticed she was trying to cover them and he moved her hands started kissing the stretch marks telling her she’s perfect/ beautiful and he loves her.. x

perfect / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!partner!reader - Marc helps you with your insecurities.

Warnings: insecurity, anxiety

Author's Note: I decided to change it a little bit (I don't write sex scenes), but I've still got the gist of your request. Thanks so much for the request! <3

Requested?: Yes, by this anon and by @itskaleahh

You lay in bed on a hot summer night with your lover, Marc Guiu, wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. He sighs, murmuring, "It's so hot; I want to cuddle you but it's like thirty-three degrees and I feel like I'm going to melt..." His eyes flutter open. You've been cuddling for hours, and the room just seems to be getting hotter and hotter.

"Well, that's a summer night in southern Spain for you," you sigh, pulling your hair away from your sweaty neck. You're on holiday together, before football season starts back up full swing again.

You glance to Marc, though, and notice him studying your body with intense eyes. You suddenly have a very sudden moment of insecurity, unable to read the expression in his eyes.

Is he judging my body or something? your brain suddenly intrudes.

You swallow as he continues studying you. His eyes seem to linger on your thighs and lower stomach especially. You glance there, and suddenly feel an anxious jolt when you realise,

Is he looking at my stretch marks...?!

You immediately, without another thought, pull the sheet up over your legs and wrap your arms around your sides and stomach.

Marc meeting looks up, meeting your eyes, and asks groggily, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, actually... not that hot."

Marc just stares for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed, before saying, "Y/n. It's smoking hot. I can see the beads of sweat on your neck. There is no way you're 'not that hot.' I can see otherwise. So what's the problem? Why're you covering yourself up?"

You gulp. "I... uh... No reason. I just feel more comfy with the sheet on."

"Are you embarrassed? Y/n, you know I think you're beautiful. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!"

"Yes, something is!" The Spaniard says, suddenly sitting up. "So tell me, Y/n. What's wrong?" His eyes soften as he prods gently, "It's okay; I won't judge you. You know I won't. You know I would never."

You sigh and glance away as Marc gently puts his arms on yours. You allow him to lift your arms off your stomach. He's silent for a few seconds, before taking the sheet down and saying, "Y/n... Is it your stretch marks, love?"

You gulp. "I... I guess."

"Y/n, sweetheart..." he says, even gentler. "You know you don't have to be embarrassed about those. You're beautiful, baby, and they're beautiful, too, okay?"

"No, they're not... No one says that..."

"Well, I do. I think ever single little part of you is beautiful. And to me, your stretch marks aren't scars. They're art. Because you, my love, are a work of art. Every single part of you."

You look at him, swallowing, biting your lip. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better... I saw you looking at them..."

"Yes, I was admiring them! I was admiring you, okay, baby? You're lovely, and I can't get enough of just looking at you."

You stare, still not completely convinced, still hesitant in your insecurity.

But he whispers, "I'll show you, baby." He leans down and starts peppering your lower stomach with little kisses, saying, "You're a lovely, beautiful, perfect princess."

"Oh, stop," you giggle a bit. "That tickles."

"I won't stop until you believe as much as I do that you're most perfect woman on this whole planet..." he breathes, moving to kissing all down your stretch marks on your thighs, continuing whispering praises and sweet-nothings, until you completely melt.

"Marc," you whisper, sniffling a little. "You're so sweet..."

He looks up, his fingers still gently stroking your stretch marks. "Do you believe me, now?" he softly asks, teasingly smiling. "That you're a goddess, and every single part of you is what makes you flawless?"

You laugh and wrap your arms around him, pulling him up against your chest in a hug, giggling. "Yes, Marc. Yes, I believe you now."

"Oh, good," he grins, that adorable little smile. You gaze into each other's eyes for a few seconds, both your faces softening by the second, before Marc whispers simply, "I love you, Y/n..." and leans in for a kiss on your lips.

[falling-star-cygnus]

What do you think would happen if Billy never left the Sons? This could be an interesting alternative timeline

I think if Billy never left the Sons his personality would be pretty different compared to the one he has now, he'd be more serious and from the POV of a son's member Billy is a chill android that acts like a big brother figure to a majority of the sons with Caesar King being an exception a majority of the time

forcing myself to write bc depression is MY bitch 💪 and i will not be letting it dictate one of my favorite hobbies -> and this is a fantastic prompt!

the voices are COOKING despite my lack of motivation though, i've got so many ideas [specifically in HSR] and it's killing me. ah, but i digress

enjoy!!!

"ANBY! IF YOU WANDER OFF ONE MORE TIME I'M PUTTING YOU ON THE LEASH!"

Nicole was going to go grey before she hit her thirties. It was practically guaranteed, especially if she had to keep wrangling in a former weapon that insisted on disappearing all the damn time!

She only looked away for a second! How did she lose not one, but both of her subordinates? The boss of the Cunning Hares could divert and run with the best of them but these two...

Maybe if she shouted louder they'd come back.

"NEKOMATA, THAT INCLUDES YOU!"

"Why are ya yelling?"

Nicole trips over her damn own feet.

"Ack- who are you!?" she practically shrieks, readying her briefcase should she need to make a hasty escape.

It's not so subtly met with the tip of- is that a freakin' flamethrower!? Does she have two freakin' flamethrowers!? Just- on her!?

"The name's Burnice!" the- admittedly pretty cute girl chirps, offering her free hand down to the Boss of the Hares, "What's yours?"

The ashy blonde's hand feels rough, like a bartenders, and she hauls the Hare to her feet with a surprising amount of ease. Seriously, it's like- nothing to her. Nicole finds herself stumbling again.

This was getting annoying..

"Oops," Burnice chuckles, elated as she steadies her current conversation partner, "Sorry about that. Guess I don't know my own strength anymore! Our android, Billy, falls over a lot too!"

She didn't like the implications there. Eh, at least she wasn't being called heavier than a hunk of metal..

"Don't worry about it.. I'm Nicole, by the way, of the Cunning Hares." Well, it's not like it would hurt to introduce herself. The Outer Ring was full of people with... less than legal activities.

It's not like the Hares were a beacon of law abidance themselves, of course, but- still. Maybe they'd think twice before messing with the boss of a known organization.

Maybe.

...hopefully.

"Wait- did you say Billy? Like.. Billy Kid? The Billy Kid? The Enforcer?"

Burnice practically squeals, and Nicole realizes- far too late- that she was being led somewhere.

...honestly, she's just kind of impressed the pyromaniac could skip in such skinny heels. Wow. That took talent. The implications that this cute girl knew such a large name finally don on the pink haired boss.

"Are you a Son?"

"No, silly, I'm a girl!"

"...of Calydon," Nicole clarifies.

"Oh. Yeah!"

Not a thought but fire in that head, huh...

A familiar weight glomps onto Nicole's sides, all skinny arms and puffy sleeves and chubby cheeks. The relief that unfurls in her chest is staggering.

"Aw, look! You found your friends.. unless you don't know them, and they're robbing you. That would definitely make this less cute."

Anby huffs in displeasure at the assumption, and squeezes closer. Ah... she was so cute when she wasn't being murderous.

Nekomata, on the other hand, she could feel stealing her wallet.

"Put it- DON'T PULL OUT YOUR BLADES WHILE I'M BETWEEN YOU TWO!"

Why does she keep needing to have this conversation!? Nicole grabs the thiren girl by the ear and the former weapon by the cheek, scowling herself as the two bicker like spoiled children.

Spoiled children that were trying to skewer each other threw their boss. She feels a vein tick in her forehead.

"QUIT IT!"

They quiet down.

Burnice is practically cackling in the background as the two mumble properly chastised apologies and sheath their blades.

"You- you guys are like Lighter and-" the pyromaniac giggles her way through her sentence, "Lighter and-"

"Burnice! Did you wander off again?" a new voice cuts in.

There's no way.

There's absolutely no way.

Running into a Son of literal friggin Calydon was crazy enough! Nicole had hoped to get the hell out of dodge before she ran into another one. Specifically, before she wandered into their marksmen.

This was somehow worse.

Because that was fucking Caesar.

The Caesar King.

Admittedly, she was similarly being glomped on by her pyromaniac like Nicole had been a few moments prior- but she was still the leading lady of a gang.

There was very little that could diminish that!

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" the pale-haired woman continued, scolding like a big sister, "I thought we all agreed that we'd wait to wander off alone until the-"

King glanced at the group of curious Hares.

"...threat had been taken care of. Kid is still out of commission, and he's made of metal. Buddy system, Burnice."

Anby and Nekomata straighten up at the familiar moniker- even as the ashy blonde pouts. Caesar rests a hand on her shoulder, keeping her voice close to a whisper.

"We all want to put this thing in the ground, believe me. But we can't if it picks us off one by one."

Huh... maybe they were closer knit than Nicole had previously thought. They were certainly protective of each other.

. . . . . . . . .

The question burns on the tip of Anby's tongue, but she doesn't know if she can ask it. She doesn't want to potentially make an enemy for the Hares by offending them.

Hm.. she needed an extrovert friend, like in the movies.

Maybe Nekomata would..

"Sorry if this is rude, but... Billy Kid. Is he- ...alright? You mentioned he was out of commission."

Or Nicole would ask, that worked too. Either way, Anby got her answers.

Burnice and Caesar glance at each other- twin flashes of what could only be described as mischief flitting between them.

"It was tragic," the ashy blonde wails, falling backwards into Caesar's arms like a damsel struck, "Our poor boy... crushed into spare parts!"

The leading lady of the Sons sniffs in return, looking similarly crestfallen, "Truly, it was a massacre. It took us hours to find everything. But- by the time we did..."

She's obviously lying- at least, on some scale, but the other two Hares eat it up like it's their first meal in weeks. They gasp, hands raised to their mouth as they're lead to the wrong conclusion.

"It was too late," the pale-haired woman finishes, still holding up her team member.

What could possibly fall a feared war machine?

Throughout this whole spiel, the two Calydon members had been leading them back to their base of operations- something about restocking their supplies and escorting them back to Sixth street.

It was kind of bare bones, to be honest, no shelter from the sky and just a handful of couches around a fire. But maybe Anby had just gotten used to a bed and warm bodies.

"I'm so sorry to hear that-"

"WOULD YOU QUIT TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!?"

There it is.

The voice is vaguely mechanical but human, or- alive sounding. More alive than Anby had ever sounded. A shock of white hair, kinda similar to hers actually but infinitely fluffier, pops up from one of the couches.

Burnice and Caesar practically fall into each other cackling and holding their stomachs.

"You're freaking them out!" the android continues, as he shifts as if to stand up.

Caesar is immediately on his case.

"Ah-ah-ah, sit your metal ass back down," she bites, rounding the corner to push him down, "We're still repairing your wiring and battery- which means you need to take it easy, Starlight."

Something loosens under the white haired girl's chest, something like misplaced relief. She doesn't know why, she's only ever heard stories of this guy, but-

Her surroundings suddenly feel like they've been painted in 4D.

There's so much going on around Anby that it's hard to think- Nekomata is yowling as Burnice tries to pet her, Nicole is tapping on her phone- an insistent beep-beep-beep that clouds her head, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts-

She wants it to stop-

Oh.

Cool metal fingers have slid under her headphones, quieting the outside noise as pale ambers meet bright yellows. The leading lady is clearly displeased that he had moved, but understanding and pure fondness is there too.

This close, Anby can see where pure havoc was wreaked on his build. Deep gouges line his lanky arms, his right leg is downright gone, and his fingers have a near imperceptible shake over her tired ears.

Again, what could've caused this to an android built for war?

The world quiets further as the people around the two take notice of the infamous marksmen, and the former weapon feels like she can breathe again. The android pulls his hands away and fixes her headphones.

"Sorry. You just- looked overwhelmed."

Anby shakes her head, not quite trusting her voice, and gestures back towards the couch. Go sit down, she tries to convey.

If Billy Kid had a mouth, the former weapon guarantees he'd be scowling. The flat expression- of his eyes- seems so wildly out of place on his faceplate that it makes the girl pause.

Regardless, the android hops back to the couch- two blonde girls half his height appearing out of nowhere to help him hobble along on his singular leg.

The one in the spiked helmet things say something about 'naptime' to the girl with the flower shaped bun and it sounds vaguely like a threat. Looks like a threat too as Billy Kid squawks and tries to soften the smaller girl's landing.

She had just- flopped into his lap. And fallen asleep.

It feels.... odd. Like she was watching the same plot of a movie with a different filter.

The war android was nicer than she thought he'd be.

Anby finds herself standing behind the couch, leaning forward to drive the seriousness off her offer home.

"Do you want to join the Cunning Hares?"

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Wonderful Christmastime

————————————————————————-

Summary: Christmas morning with Tyson and Miles, along with some Joe teasing!

Warnings: None, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*December 25th, 2023 - Christmas Day!*

Was being woken up at six in the morning ideal? No.

But… when it's by your twin boy’s smiling faces you can't be mad.

Joe hopped out of bed faster than I'd ever seen and barely had both legs in his PJ pants before he ran out of the room. The twins excitedly grabbed at his hands and pulled him down the hallway.

Yes, Joe insisted on sleeping in his usual nighttime uniform, his boxers, and promised to put our matching family PJs on in the morning.

I was slower getting up, which is expected when you're pregnant.

When I did get up, though, I went straight to the closet to put a bra on. After, I brushed my hair and teeth, then went downstairs.

“There she is.” - Joe grinned

“Don’t move any presents yet, we need to take a family picture.” - you

“What.” - Joe

“Babe, don't act surprised.” - you

“I have to go put a shirt on first and fix my hair then.” - Joe

He started for the stairs in a half-jog manner, but I called for him before he got to them.

“Put your shirt on then come down here, I'll move your hair around till you like it.” - you

“Babe.” - Joe

“Joe, I'm not waiting thirty minutes. Neither are they.” - you pointed to the boys who were patiently sitting down in front of the tree

——

Joe listened, surprisingly, and came down the stairs buttoning his shirt up before walking up to me.

I got on my tiptoes to reach his head and did my best to comb his bedhead with my fingers.

“Hurry up!” - Tyson

“We don't talk to Mommy and Daddy like that, okay Ty?” - Joe

“Almost done, buddy.” - you

“Are you talking to me or him?” - Joe

“Both?” - you laughed

It only took a couple more moments for Joe’s hair to fall in the way he liked it.

“There.” - you kissed his cheek

I got my phone set up and used the camera timer on my Apple Watch to get some pics.

We had just taken a few family ones and a couple of just the twins because I was sure Joe wouldn't want to be a part of a couple picture.

“Wanna get one of me kissing your cheek, and you like holding my face?” - Joe

“What?! Are you joking… or high?” - you

“No.” - Joe laughed

“Uhm sure…” - you

Joe and I took the picture, and afterward, he said something that surprised me.

“You should make that the cover of your post later. I think it looks cute.” - Joe

“Joe what? Who are you and what have you done with my husband?” - you

“He’s still here, just wanting to show more of my affectionate side.” - Joe

I grinned and leaned in to kiss him. It only lasted a few seconds because of the interruption of my PJ pants being yanked on by the little hands below us.

——

An hour later, stockings and presents had been opened.

We had finished eating breakfast, and Joe immediately walked back into the living after grabbing a trash bag.

I sat a few feet away, watching him from the kitchen, and internally giggling as he stacked boxes and threw the old wrapping paper into the trash bag.

“You are such a dad, Joe.” - you laughed

“Well, hopefully, because I am one.” - Joe

“No, I meant you applying to most of the dad stereotypes.” - you

“Gotta do what you gotta do.” - Joe shrugged

A few moments went by as I scrolled through the comments on my Instagram post.

A few of Joe’s teammates had commented, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud at what they had said.

“Whatcha laughing at?” - Joe placed his hands on your shoulders and looked over them

“Shit! How'd you get over here so fast without making a sound?!” - you

“I’m sneaky, baby.” - Joe smirked

Playfully rolling my eyes before continuing to read the comments, Joe repeated his original question.

“Whatcha laughing at?” - Joe

“The guys’ comments on my IG post.” - you

“What’d they say??” - Joe

“They're just talking about your jammies and you kissing my cheek.” - you laughed

“Specifics, please?” - Joe

I handed my phone to him and intently watched his face to see any change in expression.

There weren't any necessarily negative comments, but the ones the boys left were kind of poking fun at Joe in a playful way.

For example;

sam_hubbard_: where‘s my pj set?

nbsmallerbear: nice jammies

lahjay10_: sheisty gettin' spicy? 💋

That's just to name a few since they were all pretty much like that.

I continued watching Joe’s face as his thumb scrolled, but nothing ever changed till he handed me my phone back.

Joe rolled his eyes with a laugh as he placed my phone back into my hand.

“Are you not annoyed?” - you

“No, why would I?” - Joe

“I don't know, I just thought you'd regret posting the pictures you were in.” - you

He reached down and ran one of his thumbs over my cheek.

“I don't regret a thing, wanna know why?” - Joe

“Why?” - you

“I knew it made you happy, and that is all I care about.” - Joe

I puckered my lips, signaling I wanted a kiss, and Joe happily obliged.

“Merry Christmas, Joey. I love you.” - you

“Merry Christmas, Mama. I love you too.” - Joe

People say that money can buy happiness, but I think that the original idea was the right idea. Because nothing that money can buy, or be wrapped and put under the tree, can be equal to the feeling of having a full heart. All because of a loving husband, and our growing family.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: Guys it's LATE. Seriously I need to go to bed.

Request for this fic; (kinda 😭)

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[frostgears]

We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 1: Bree 1

"You should come away from the railing, miss. We're doing thirty knots, easy, with the wind in our favor like this, and the water's absolutely frigid. We lose anyone overboard, they're in trouble. Plus, I heard, the uh, the second mate, she said, uh…"

The catboy's tail swung nervously behind him, side to side.

"Spit it out, Henley," she said without turning away from the churning ocean.

"She said dolls don't swim so well."

"Yeah, all right," she grudgingly admitted, stepping well back from the wooden rail between her and the icy brine. And then, "Aren't you cold?"

"Nah. Cold-weather breed, me. Triple coat. And I swim just fine." he said proudly. "Proud nautical family, mine. Still, not looking to take a dip today. Aren't you cold, miss?"

"Can't feel cold any more."

"Huh."

"Captain awake yet?"

"Yes, miss. Captain's just finishing breakfast."

---

"Heard you were roaming around and scaring the crew," the captain said, spreading a piece of toast with jam.

"Hardly. Henley doesn't seem to mind me."

"Henley's blessed with the daftness of youth and an untrained eye for magic. The ship's witch refuses to come out of the crow's nest; they're sleeping up there now, even in this chill."

"My compliments to the ship's witch on our speed, captain," the doll said, dipping a precise curtsy. She'd meant it to be a halfassed curtsy, but even after years of upgrades, there were reflexes built into this body that were too strong to shrug off.

"I suspect they just want you delivered and off this ship."

"The winds have been good, so I'm not fussed as to whatever they think of me. Whatever gets me there fastest."

"And you will consider our debt settled then, I hope," the captain said, in a much-put-upon voice.

"Captain! I thought we were friends enjoying a sea voyage together. I had no idea you were such a mercenary."

She raised an eyebrow, a feat that had been beyond her until fairly recently, due to her previous set of eyebrows having been painted on.

"Yes, of course we're done, old man. I'm not an unreasonable person."

"You're not a person at all," he grouched.

"So I can't be an unreasonable one," she said happily, having scored a point in the long-running game that she played against the rest of the world.

---

"There we go, miss. That's the last of your things."

"Thank you, Henley." She slid an intricately jointed hand into the long-unused pockets of her old Academy greatcoat, found what she knew would be there. "Here. Little something for you."

"A pocketknife, miss? Thank you. This will come in handy under way."

"An Academy pocketknife. Take two steps back and open the big blade."

The catboy put a thumb over the tab for the big blade. She made a sharp noise.

"Ah-ah, Henley. Two steps back."

"Yes, miss."

The knife unfolded, an aurora-blade of ghostly light three feet long. Henley's fur stood on end.

"I… I can't take this, miss."

"You can take it, and you can use it, so you should. Most people can't even open one. Maybe your ship's witch…" She tilted her head, crystal eyes scanning nothing visible, and added, "I have to admit that it's not just out of the goodness of my heart. We're about to get jumped."

"You hear them too, miss?"

"Not hear, but… yes. I make three."

Two figures in crimson cloaks rappelled down from the roof of the building to the right. Another from the left.

"Four. Behind us."

She turned. A fourth cast aside their dull grey overcloak and tray of eel pies.

"Good ears on a good boy. They're Crimson Fist, Pact executioners. They're far from home, but so am I: no one's going to help us here."

The not-person in the Academy greatcoat adjusted a crystal cylinder in the open metal webwork of her left arm. Within it, something hissed; chill blue-grey fog streamed from vents, pooled at her feet, and began drifting in all directions.

"You don't have the stomach for a fight? Run now, quickly, back to the ship as fast as you can. But I think you'll be better off if you hold that blade and stand with me. And Henley?"

"Yes, Miss?"

Two of the three in front drew blades: jagged, showy things. The Fist was here to leave a mess and send a message. They'd leave witnesses. But Henley had helped her. Henley had carried her baggage. They probably wouldn't leave Henley.

"You said you were a cold-weather breed."

"Yes, Miss!"

"Still. Ware the ice."

She stepped forward.

"Hey. Hey," she shouted, as loud as she could; it had taken months of tuning to get it this way, and her voice still wasn't that loud, but it carried well enough. "Pact puppets. Future corpses. You know who I am?"

The center cloak unrolled a scroll. The Fist loved their drama. The scroll-carrier intoned, "The failed mage of the Splinter Territories known commonly as 'Bree the Blessed' has been convicted of high crimes against the people and order of the Crimson Pact—"

"Yeah, that's me… wait, 'the Blessed'?"

"–for which the sentence is death. Judgement will be rendered here forthwith—"

"You probably won't take it, but: one chance. Just walk away."

They never walked away. Except that one time they actually did. She felt a little better, given that one time. But so far it had just been the one.

"—so let all who have eyes take heed."

The one behind them incanted something she couldn't quite pick up. The two holding swords rushed her and Henley.

Right into the fog.

They never learned. Except that one time. This didn't seem like it was going to be like that one time. You had to stay alive to learn.

Bree snapped her fingers; the fog erupted into jagged blue-black ice; the two sword-wielders staggered, impaled by lances of horrible cold. She snapped again and they shattered.

Quick, at least, and limited. She'd used fire often enough that she'd come to appreciate alternatives. This one wouldn't spread past the targets of her wrath and burn the town.

Henley screeched and came swinging wildly for the one with the scroll. They caught the catboy's stroke easily on an armored wrist.

Too bad for them. An aurora-blade touching skin could burn. An aurora-blade reacting with a metal gauntlet sent fat sparks crawling over the Fist assassin's body and dropped them. The catboy might have a little more magic than she had thought.

So far, so good. She took a half-step back, turned, and opened her hand, willing the fog to condense for her into a keen-edged rapier, glinting icy blue light from its blade and freezing a trail of frost in the air.

The trip to the utter north had been worth it just to see what lay pooled there, where the world touched the cold void beyond, and on top of that, she'd been able to take some for herself. So far, it obeyed her, and she loved it for that.

The last Fist assassin, the false seller of eel pies, lunged at her, their own blade glimmering lucent gold with some invocation she didn't recognize.

She iced the ground beneath them just barely enough to trip them up. When they stumbled, she thrust, her rapier accompanied by a half-dozen reflections of itself, a hexagonal column of frozen death.

A hexagonal column of frozen death tore seven long slashes through a crimson jacket and skidded off the material underneath. She barely kept her balance. The Fist stood up, apparently unhurt, shrugging off their ruined uniform.

Bree stared, crystal eyes scanning again and again over what was clearly no armor. Her opponent bore articulations in metal and ceramic in a way that admitted no human occupant.

The Crimson Pact was human, by and large, except for the ruling minority that famously was not. The demons suffered no power that threatened theirs, and especially no permanent interference with the flow of souls.

"So you're making dolls now?" she said aloud.

The Pact assassin ran her free hand through her hair, fanning golden tresses behind her. Shreds of crimson trailed her in the slight wind. Crystal eyes met hers. They looked just like hers — or Lyric's — if rendered in pitiless ruby.

"Only," the Pact doll said, "in the service of unmaking other dolls."

The Fist really did love their drama. But she had to admit that the other doll was a work of art, a sculpture of martial glory.

"That's a hell of a compliment," Bree said. "Good luck with that."

She moved to interpose her armored frame between the Pact doll and Henley, and then let go of her mind's grip on the frozen rapier and the surrounding fog, all at once.

In the chaos of the ensuing cryonic explosion, she picked up the catboy, threw him over her shoulder, and ran. This wasn't his fight. She'd dump him somewhere safe, and then…

Her mind already churned with plans and stratagems and half-formed invocations. Another doll… Had she become threat enough to actually rattle the Crimson Pact? What could that other doll do? And were people really calling her Bree the Blessed?

She thought that, just for a moment in her flight, she saw the flicker of a certain silver radiance, but told herself it was just sunlight off the harbor. Had to be. It wouldn't dare get in her way.

---

prev: We Who Will Not Bow next: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 2: Lyric 1

[helluvasinsxhazbinoverlords]

"Well, that was a fucking disaster and a half. Seriously, all those shitty ass Goetia fucking suck," Beelzebub said, sitting down in her assigned chair in the private meeting room. Belphegor snoring slightly in the seat right next to the Gluttony Sin.

"It didn't help it was also two Sins against three." Asmodeus spoke as he entered the room, taking his seat across from Belphegor. "Mammon and Leviathan already took off, unsurprisingly." The two never stick around for at after meeting, not since Lucifer went into isolation.

"Satan ordered them to go home." Belphegor mumbled, a single eye slightly open showing she wasn't fully asleep right now. "Wants to talk to us about Andrealphus."

"He only put the asshole in charge for a hundred years. Should've been Stolas's kid in my personal opinion. Why does he want to talk to use about Andreaphus?" Beelzebub asked, her attention turning to the door opening.

"Because Andreaphus is a lying scheming piece of shit!" Satan hollered as he walked to his seat at the end of the table, sitting down with a thud. Even in his small more compacted form he was still far taller than the other Sins with the exception of Asmodeus. Another seat at the opposite end of the table is dusty and covered in cobwebs. "He's lucky I didn't rip out his fucking-"

"Hey, remember our chakra, keep them balanced, and a nice peaceful mind set. Deep breaths, in and out." Yogirt would take a few deep breaths themself.

Satan would follow Amani's lead, holding his hands in a mediation style while taking a few deep breaths. "Alright, I'm cool. Now, I only wanted you three here because you're actually competent in your work. Clearly this was a set up job, and I want to know everything about it. I doubt Andreaphus was stupid enough to be too directly involved so he can easily deny involvement."

"Oh, so now you fucking care about getting played. When it's all said and done. If you knew then why didn't you just call him out. I'm sure that 'witness' would've been willing to sing after two seconds in a room with any of us."

"Because Stolas still fucked up big time even lending his book to that imp, and I think we all remember the blind eye we had to turn because the problem those imps caused in the human world. If I punished three royals in a day it'd look like we have a power problem in our system."

"We do have a power problem Satan. We've let the royals run around without any accountability and consequence's for eons now. It was only a matter of time before one tried to rise up the ranks, and a Goetia is the fastest way to do that. Even if it's awfully bold."

"Which is why I'm going to pass an accountability law that'll offer real time punishments to any royal that steps out of line, and having stronger eyes on them at all times. Though we still need to get to the bottom. Beelzebub, I want you to your team keep an eye on Andreaphus, Stella, and that imp witness at all times. I want to know when all their schedules from top to bottom. Asmodeus, have your succubus in Andreaphus kingdom listening for any information. I don't care what it is, even if it's Andreaphus stubbed his toe in public, I want to know about it. Belphegor, I want you to pull every thing you can spare and start hitting all criminal operations that Andreaphus has had his hand in. Mammon and Leviathan aren't getting involved, mainly because they're lazy idiots."

"Fine, but I'm still pissed at you. I can get my team ready to roll out in thirty minutes. Andreaphus and Stella will have every single place they visit often bugged by the end of the day. Striker is going to be tricky since he seems to live off grid. I'll let you know anything important they find." Beelzebub then teleports away.

"I've got a certain succubus in mind to help me spear head my end of the operation. If he so much as breath's wrong my succubus and succubi will know about it. Hopefully I have something to report soon." Asmodeus would then teleport out of the meeting room as well.

"I already sent the order as soon as Andreaphus rejected the idea of calling Stolas to attend the trial. They've busted over a dozen of those in direct contact with him for illegal smuggling through his kingdom. Some cartel leaders, some gang leaders, and a few trafficking heads. Already had our eyes on them for about a year now."

"As soon as you get one of them willing to sing I want them sent to me directly. I'll find out just how much they'll be willing to tell." Satan didn't take all this scheming likely, even if he knew none of the royals were a real threat to the powers of a Sin. The Warth's Sin attention turning to hearing a door slam.

Belphegor would finally sit up, smiling slightly. "I'm guessing you're little Snicker-doodle is steamed about you losing your cool and squeezing them. Let's hope your famous Lava Som Tam is enough to get them to forgive you."

"Please, I don't want to hear it right now. I really need to get home and apologize. You should get back to your ring." Satan then stood up. "I know this doesn't need to be said, though don't let up for even a second. I want this solved as fast as possible." He would then teleport back to his ring.

As soon as Satan teleports out of the room Belphegor face falls into the table and she could be heard softly snoring again. Her third eye about to close when a golden portal opened over by Lucifer's seat.

"I'm baaaaaaaaaaack~" Lucifer sung out, only to see that the meeting room was completely empty expect for Belphegor.

"You just missed them. Try again tomorrow at around two. Everyone should be here then. It's good to see you Luci, tell Charlie I said hi."

"I have a better idea. We have the meeting at my daughter's hotel. Get caught up to speed on somethings. Show everyone the hotel. Tell them to head there tomorrow. Good to see you too Bel, and I will." Lucifer would then open a portal and leave.

"Sure," Belphegor said as Lucifer left. "Satan's going to kill him tomorrow, though it'll be nice to have us all together again."

[ckret2]

Chapter 17 of Human Bill Causes Problems And Ruins Relationships On Purpose (title TBD), featuring: Mabel and Ford, not letting their relationship be ruined.

They're gonna be okay.

Also: weird donuts, cool crystals, and summer class.

####

Mabel was out of sight by the time Ford exited the shop—stupid, why hadn't he chased her the second he saw her run? He knew Mabel was fast. He circled the block calling her name—there was nowhere she could have gone, this mixed-use building was surrounded by residential houses—and then he hurried back to the parking garage, worst case scenarios tumbling through his head.

When he spied her leaning against the trunk of Stan's car, he heaved a sigh of relief. "Mabel! You shouldn't run off like that in a strange city. Anything could have happened."

Mabel tightened her crossed arms, glaring at her shoes. "I'm better at taking care of myself than you think."

Ford's shoulders slumped. He stood there useless, the silence thick between them, grappling for something to say to cut through it.

He never did well with these thick, awkward, choking moments—the moment before Stan left home, the moment after Fiddleford left the portal project, all the moments on the phone with his parents or with Shermie when he couldn't think of anything they'd be truly interested to hear about his life or any questions he truly wanted them to answer. He'd lost a lot of relationships in those moments. "Mabel—you're not in trouble, and I'm... I'm not mad at you."

"Being disappointed isn't better."

"I'm not disappointed, either. Just... concerned."

Wrong word. Mabel looked up at Ford with a dark, furious look that reminded him unnervingly of a look Bill had given him a few days ago. (He still hadn't learned to identify this as the hallmark gaze of the defiant teenager.) Then she glared at the ground again. "I wanna go home."

If he took her home, it would be an agonizing hour and a half silence—and what were the odds she'd just run to Bill and tell him he'd been "right," and he'd fill her head with more poison? It was far too late to forbid her from talking to him without exacerbating the situation. Ford could force her to stay right here in Portland until he'd talked to her—he had the keys, the driver's license, and almost fifty years' seniority—but if he did that, she'd tune out anything he said.

And she'd be right to. Who was he to her except the other uncle, the one who'd spent a year lavishing attention on her brother and only asked to spend time with her as a trap to give her a lecture?

He leaned on the car trunk next to her and looked down at the top of Mabel's head. She was wearing a headband studded with rhinestones and plastic ruby earrings. She'd dressed up for this. Ford swallowed hard. "Mabel, I'm an idiot."

She didn't say anything.

"I am. I'm a fool. I put all my skill points in intelligence and zero in charisma." He paused. "Which... that sentence probably makes self-evident." He cleared his throat. "I started out bad at socializing, and not interacting with humans for thirty years didn't make me any better. So I don't have any idea what I'm doing here. But... I asked you to come here with me because I really do want to spend more time with you; and because Bill hurt me, and I love you too much not to make sure you're protected against him doing the same to you."

He put a hand on her shoulder, and when she didn't tense up or pull away, he went on: "I think I tried to do too much in one trip, and it just made what should have been a fun time... awkward for you. But, if it helps, it's awkward for me, too. We can be awkward together. We're on the same side, I promise."

Mabel let out a loud, snotty sniff. "You... really do wanna hang out with me?" Quieter, she asked, "Not just Dipper?"

"Of course I do!" Ford said. "But I don't blame you for doubting me. I... know I've spent less time with you than with Dipper. I thought he needed me more. I'm sorry it took this to make me make time for you like I should have all along."

"Was... was there ever really a crystal store on the highway?"

"There was! I promise! I honestly don't know what happened to it! Maybe when I was coming from the airport Soos took a different exit than I thought? Or maybe a truck got between us and the sign as we were passing it and we didn't realize, but—"

He was getting off topic. The mystery of the crystal store wasn't what was important here. Reel in the puzzled scientist for a moment and be an uncle. "But—I swear Mabel, I didn't make up a story just to get you out here. I truly wanted to go to a crystal shop with you, hand on my heart." He put his hand on his heart. "That's a full finger more sincere than normal."

Mabel let out a choked giggle. She finally looked up at Ford, eyes red, cheeks tear streaked, but fighting to smile through her tears. "Grunkle Ford, I—" She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his sweater. "I'm not trying to ruin summer again, I promise! All I'm talking to Bill about is preschool cartoons and arts & crafts! Sure, he's—he's been nice since I helped him out, but—that doesn't mean I've forgotten who he is or what he can do..."

"Mabel, you didn't ruin last summer." Ford knelt down and hugged her back. "Bill did. Never forget that. I'm just trying to prevent him from doing it again."

Mabel nodded, unconvinced. "He couldn't have ruined it by himself."

"You're right. He couldn't. Which is why I was so wrong to keep the rift secret from everyone in the house but Dipper. I was trying to keep you safe, but you never would have fallen for his lies if I'd armed you with all the information you needed."

He leaned back from Mabel and patted his briefcase. "That's why I'm doing things properly this time! I'm prepared to educate you on every trick Bill has ever borrowed from the books of con artists, cult leaders, and serial manipulators. If you're going to talk to him, you'll know the rules of every mind game he plays before he starts playing them." He unzipped his briefcase and pulled out some of the research materials he'd assembled to prepare for this conversation. "I'm afraid even that might not be enough to fully protect you against his devious tricks, but if you keep your guard up and regularly check in with the rest of the family, then—"

Mabel looked in Ford's briefcase and exploded in a peal of laughter. "Grunkle Ford, are you making me go to school in the summer?! Gross!"

Ford blinked. If this was Dipper, he'd have been delighted at the educational opportunity. This just went to show how much he still needed to learn about Mabel, too. "Come now, Mabel. There's no greater defense against the shadowy forces of deception than the light of knowledge!"

Mabel laughed again. "You nerd!"

Ford grinned. "But, I'll try to make it fun, too."

"Okay, I'll take your psychology class. Bill-proof me! Arm me with knowledge!" She raised her arms like she was flexing her biceps.

"Great!" Ford rummaged through his briefcase. "I'll start with the broad strategies I've seen or heard of him using to isolate his victims, then narrow in on specific tactics he uses to steer conversations his way. First we'll go over the B.I.T.E. model of authoritarian control, and—"

Mabel put a hand on his shoulder. "How about we start with lunch?"

Ford paused, then let out a huff. "Yes, of course. We should eat."

They got in the car and went looking for a restaurant.

####

They had lunch at a burger place, and Ford told Mabel everything he could think of about how Bill operated—all guided by copious research notes.

To his relief, Mabel never got bored. Instead, she immediately related his lesson back to things she'd already seen Bill do: how easily he'd gotten her, Dipper, and Soos to do his job for him inside Stan's mind, or how he'd tried to turn Mabel and Dipper against each other during Mabel's puppet show. When she admitted what Bill had said to make her worry about talking to Ford, he confessed how Bill had turned him against Fiddleford—and how he'd done it with just a couple comments. All he'd had to say was that Fiddleford might not be committed enough to the portal project, might not be bold enough to finish, and Ford's mind had done the rest.

Ford hadn't even told Dipper about that part—instead, he'd just let Dipper read it in his journal. Ford had yet to so much as talk to Fiddleford himself about it. It was shameful to admit out loud; but less so when he knew he was talking to someone else who'd very nearly been fooled the same way—and that sharing his story might save her from repeating it.

They wrapped up lunch, moved to a nearby shop called Druid Donuts for dessert, and continued their conversation on one of the picnic tables outside. Mabel got a donut wizard with a pretzel stick wand and purple cream filling, and Ford tried out a donut with jelly beans on top. The jelly beans were kinda stale. He plucked them off and ate them anyway.

Mabel sighed, "Grunkle Ford, I'm so sorry I let Bill make me doubt you."

"Bill has that effect on people. When I had this same talk with Dipper, he tried to shoot me with the memory gun in case Bill was possessing me."

"Dipper never mentioned that!" Mabel laughed; but it quickly petered out as she remembered who had ultimately gotten memory gunned over Bill.

She gazed thoughtfully down at her wizard. (She'd eaten off one of his arms, half his robe, and licked out the purple cream filling.) "What made Bill so awful?"

"I sorely wish I knew," Ford said. "I spent half my life trying to find out where he came from, along with how to defeat him. All I ever learned is that he's from a two-dimensional realm—and he destroyed his dimension, friends and family included, for power."

Mabel's eyes widened.

"But... why? I still don't know. He told me he found his home 'restrictive'—but I imagine any limitations would feel restrictive to someone who's seeking omnipotence, so I have no idea what that truly means." Ford looked down at his donut. He'd plucked off all the jelly beans and sorted them into two piles on a napkin, one of regular beans and a smaller one with a few deformed ones. He popped a couple of beans in his mouth. 

"It's weird," Mabel said. "It's like... I'm trying to hate him, but it's hard. It was easy last year! And I know who he is, and I know that all this"—she pointed at Ford's bag full of notes—"is going on in his head, but—when I talk to him, he just seems like... not a different person, but a—a normal person. I don't want to not give that person a chance just because he's Bill. You know? Does that make sense?" Mabel grimaced. "Or is that just how good he is at acting?"

Softly, Ford said, "I think it does make sense. Actually, even after everything he's done to me... since he's been locked up with us, I've—had a moment or two like that. I don't think he's doing it on purpose. I think it's a natural side effect of being in such close proximity to him."

Ford had been thinking a lot about his bizarre burst of compassion on the night Bill burned off his hair. He'd wondered if, maybe, putting a human face over Bill had made Ford see him as a new person. But that wasn't right. Like Mabel had said: Ford didn't see this human Bill as a different person, but rather...

Ford had obsessed over Bill for thirty years. He'd combed the multiverse for information about Bill's history, his state of existence, his potential weaknesses. But in all that time—in all that time, he hadn't once spoken with Bill.

He'd spent half a lifetime moving amongst people who saw Bill as a symbol, a legend, a cosmic force. He'd come to see Bill the same way. A threat, a target, an idea. He'd spent so many years picking a scant few hours of conversation with Bill to shreds that—he was now beginning to realize—he'd half convinced himself that Bill didn't actually have an identity beneath his lies.

It wasn't that seeing a human face made Ford forget that this person was Bill. It was that seeing a human face made Ford remember that Bill was a person. Ford had gotten so used to hating Bill the symbol; had he ever learned how to hate Bill the person? Or had he just let himself believe Bill wasn't a person at all?

Treating Bill like an idea rather than a person was useful enough when Bill was some distant foe. But now Bill was here. Ford couldn't let himself go soft just because Bill was capable of filling space in a window seat and tripping on the furniture and waking screaming from nightmares and regretting a stupid haircut.

Bill had been a person every other time Ford had tried to kill him, too. And that didn't change the fact that he needed to die.

And Mabel—who had so much less practice with hatred than Ford had—was struggling with the same thing.

"You want him to make sense," Ford said. "I understand that completely. Once we see somebody as a person, it's hard to see them as a monster, even if that's what they are. Our minds think monsters want to destroy the world, not play weird chess games. Seeing him as just a monster would be safer for everyone—but, as long as he's imprisoned and powerless, all he can do is be a person."

Mabel thought that over. "Yeah," she said. "You can hate somebody or you can get to know them, but you can't do both."

Ford could think of a few people he'd only hated more the better he got to know them, but he supposed Mabel was kinder than him. "More or less."

"How do you deal with it?"

"By avoiding him."

Mabel's gaze dropped back to her donut wizard. She ate his wand and other arm.

Ford took a deep breath. "Mabel... knowing everything you know now, do you still want to keep talking to him?"

Her neck sank down into her turtleneck. "Do I fail your class if I say yeah?"

Ford smiled sadly. Was she too kind for her own good, or—like Ford—too curious? "I thought you might say that," he said. "Follow-up question: are you prepared to be disappointed when he doesn't live up to your hopes? And I do mean 'when,' not 'if.' You're offering him a charity I don't think he's capable of reciprocating."

If she'd gotten angry, if she'd gotten defensive, he would have worried more. But she laughed and said, "Grunkle Ford, last summer I got my heart broken by like, sixteen boys. After that, I can handle finding out the evil demon triangle I'm trying to reform is still an evil demon. I'll be impressed if he ever gets an opportunity to kill one of us and doesn't take it."

Ford chuckled, relieved. "I think you deserve to hang out with people you can hold to higher standards than that."

"I do! But the other people I hang out with don't wanna watch the same shows as me. I don't think I can make you understand how important that is."

On the one hand, that struck Ford as a very thirteen-year-old priority. On the other hand... He winced. "Actually... for a while, he was the only person that would play Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons with me."

"WHAT! What kind of character did he play!"

"None. He always wanted to be the dungeon master," Ford said. "He ran very strange campaigns. And had a weird fascination with princesses with eyeballs for heads. And, in retrospect, it was probably a red flag when he decided to portray the God of Long Odds as a one-eyed golden triangle."

Mabel at least had the good grace to bite her lip instead of laughing at Ford.

"Well. I don't think you should want to talk to him. But, if you do... then you have a rare opportunity. Perhaps the first in multiversal history. Bill's our captive, he seems to trust you, he's motivated to make you trust him... I think if anyone's ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Perhaps you'll get your question answered."

"Grunkle Ford..." Mabel grinned slyly. "Are you saying that you want me to talk to him? Like, as a spy?"

Ford grimaced. "If I said that, that would make me a terrible uncle. I should be doing everything in my power to steer you away from him. I know that would be safer for everyone and healthier for you." He paused. "But. I can't control you. And as long as you've decided to talk to him anyway—I want to know everything you learn."

Mabel laughed. "You got it!"

"Final advice: don't trust anything he says, assume everything he does has an ulterior motive, and never agree to do anything he asks without twenty-four hours away from him to consider it. And keep talking to us—to me, to Dipper, to Stanley. He might fool one of us, but he can't fool all of us."

"Yeah!" Mabel raised a hand. "Pines power!"

"Pines power." Ford high-sixed her, then finished up his donut. "Well, I think this was very educational for both of us." He stood. "You've still got your $50. Want to go back to the crystal shop?"

####

They grabbed a big green box of donuts for the family and headed back to Lunar Blessings. While Mabel was agonizing over several fun-colored crystals, Ford wandered back toward the statue of Bill. He had to do something about this. "Excuse me." He waved down the shopkeeper. "Do you happen to know where this sculpture came from? The name of the artist, or...?"

She came over to study it. "I think we get all of these from a studio in the Bahamas, but I don't remember the artist off the top of my head. Why?"

He tried to think of a lie that sounded more realistic than the truth—maybe if he said he thought he recognized the art style and wanted to know if an old friend had made it, she'd be willing to dig up the artist's name?

He decided to go with a story that might get this thing off the shelf faster. "Because that particular depiction of the Eye of Providence is associated with a dangerous cult."

Her brows went up. "You're sure? It's a common symbol."

"Giving it eyelashes and a bow tie isn't. Trust me: either the artist is a cultist, or they got the design from somebody who is."

"Cult's a... pretty loaded word." (Ford grudgingly respected her for her wariness. She probably dealt with somebody calling something-or-other in this shop "cultish" on a daily basis.) "How do you know they're that bad?"

"Because once I got in, it took me thirty years to get out."

The shopkeeper's demeanor changed immediately. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry. We get these in bulk with a lot of other sculptures, I thought it was just some obscure... Are these people dangerous, or—?"

"Not as much as they used to be, I don't think. Their founder's incarcerated. But... the kind of people who'd be eager to buy this probably aren't the people you want to sell to."

As she eyed the sculpture skeptically—probably deciding whether she found this stranger's story credible enough to warrant taking merch off her shelves—Ford asked, "Do you think you could find the artist? With the founder gone, I... I've been wondering how his other victims are faring." There wasn't much point in pushing further to remove the item. He'd given the shopkeeper enough to think about, and he doubted one more statue on one more shelf would really do any harm while Bill couldn't use its eye.

She hesitated, then nodded. "I'll check our records. If we don't have it, you can give me your contact info and I'll let you know when I find out."

"Thank you." What would Ford say if he did meet another of Bill's victims? He'd known a few, very distantly, thirty years ago; Bill had told him who he could go to to get art, much like the sculpture in this store. Back then, he'd felt like he was in a secret society—a real secret society with real secrets, not like the corny social club styling itself a "secret society" he'd joined in college—with the double secret that none of the other members knew that Ford was the society president's favorite. In retrospect, they'd probably thought they were Bill's favorites, too.

He supposed he'd find out if he ever met the artist.

####

Mabel found a little pink cat figurine, a string of small nazar eye beads she thought would be great for crafts, an extremely small crystal naturally colored like a watermelon slice, and a bracelet made out of tiny colorful rock chips arranged in a rainbow. The shopkeeper wasn't able to find the artist's name before they left; but Ford left his name, address, and the shack's number on a piece of receipt paper so she could contact him if she found out more.

As they were leaving, Ford said to Mabel, "You know... if you still like those glass pyramids, I think there's a couple in my study that escaped the purge. You could have one."

"Really? You're sure? You don't have to..."

"I'm sure. They're not magical or dangerous—and I think I'd like for one of them to get new, better associations. Just, keep it in a room where Bill can't get his hands on it," Ford said. "But if he does see it... make up a story about it that will drive him crazy."

Mabel considered that. And then a wicked smile twisted up her face.

####

"Okay, your turn," Mabel said. She was slouched down in her seat with her feet up on the car's dashboard. "Befriend, betray, or betroth: Carl Sagan, the Queen of England, and... a wizard."

Ford sucked in a breath. "Ooh, that's tough." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Describe the wizard."

"Greatest wizard of all time! And his beard is like, ten feet long."

Ford pursed his lips as he thought. "Marry the wizard," he said. "As much as I admire Carl's mind, he freely shares his knowledge with the public. Wizards are far more reclusive. Marriage may be my only way to learn his secrets."

"The queen isn't even on the table?"

"I've been a king before, Mabel. Too many social obligations for me," Ford said. "I suppose I'll have to befriend the queen. I can't afford to make any more powerful enemies. Anyway, it could give me an opportunity to ask about some of the legends surrounding Buckingham Palace."

"So you'd betray...?"

Ford frowned deeply. "This game is vicious."

Mabel laughed. "I won't tell him!"

"I appreciate it," Ford said. "All right, your turn. Befriend, betray, or betroth: a president, a movie star, and an astronaut."

Mabel paused. Mabel thought about the guy on the $10 bill—who, she was sure, was definitely a president, or else they wouldn't have put him on a bill. Mabel said, "Which president?"

He'd meant the concept of a president, but. "Uh..."

Mabel gasped and sat up straight. "Grunkle Ford, look!" She pointed out the driver's side window.

"Wh—?" Ford gaped as they drove past a tall pole topped with a gray sign. The sign read, "OCCULTED CRYSTALS". Beneath the words was a glass window shaped like a cut diamond.

"Is that—?"

"That's it!" Ford swerved into the exit lane. "You're not getting away this time, you sonofagun!"

"I've still got like two dollars! Let's do this!"

They celebrated and congratulated each other as they descended onto the frontage road and made a U-turn under the highway.

On the other side, there was no trace of the sign. All they found was a strip of five nondescript whitewashed storefronts, all out of business, with a narrow weed-filled parking lot in front.

Mabel and Ford exchanged a baffled look.

Ford pulled into the empty parking lot and stepped out of the car. "It was here, wasn't it?" he asked. "It can't have been farther back than this." He squinted to the west, shielding his eyes with his hand. No signs that way, and no trees or buildings tall enough to be hiding one.

"Maybe it's a time travel thing!" Mabel jumped out of the car and ran to the abandoned stores, peering through the windows one at a time to see if any looked like a former crystal shop.

Ford glanced warily at a concrete block along the edge of the parking lot that looked like it might once have supported a pole. "Hmm."

Eventually, when they couldn't find anything, they slunk back into the car, got on the frontage road, took the next U-turn, and got back on the highway.

The diamond-windowed Occulted Crystals sign taunted them from the horizon.

They stared dumbly at it.

Mabel pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

"What are you?" Ford asked the sign. "Is it invisible on its other side?"

Mabel turned in her seat and peered through the back window as they passed it. "Still visible!"

"Then can it only be seen if you're traveling east on the highway?" Ford mused. "But you'd have to be westbound to take an exit that reaches that location. It's impossible to access."

"What if you're traveling west but you drive the car backwards!"

Ford mulled over that. "For starters, we'd probably get pulled over." Ford glanced down at the car's clock. "It's getting late, too. We can't procrastinate anymore if we want to be home in time for dinner."

The sign had disappeared behind them. Mabel turned back around and settled in her seat. "I think this calls for a follow-up investigation later, don't you?"

Ford grinned. "I had the exact same thought."

####

"... And that's how we realized it wasn't Louisa who had slashed Sarah's tires," Abuelita said, "it was Arthur! Can you believe it? Arthur!" She turned away from the stove to look at Bill, eyebrows raised, making sure he fully appreciated this twist.

Sitting backwards on one of the kitchen chairs, he shrugged. "I can't blame him. Every man has his limit. And Sarah's been pushing his for weeks." He took a swig from a bottle of spoiled grape juice.

"Stop drinking my cooking wine," Abuelita said. "Sure, but Arthur's so passive! I thought he'd have a nervous breakdown long before he ever took action! Anyway, things just haven't been the same since he got arrested."

Bill shook his head sympathetically. "I tell you. This town's bingo hall is really going to the dogs."

The front door swung open, and Mabel's voice drifted in: "Betroth the vampire, of course. And—is it possible to betray a zombie? Do they understand loyalty? When Soos got turned..."

Bill perked up, set the juice bottle on the kitchen table, and got to his feet, immediately drawn to a more rewarding distraction. "I'll get out of your hair," he told Abuelita, and switched to English. "Hey, Shooting Star and Sixer!" He leaned against the kitchen doorway. "How were the crystals?"

"Great! I got a watermelon rock and a cat and some beads and the coolest bracelet!" She raised her hand and twisted it back and forth, making the rock chips click together. "And donuts!" She shoved a big green open box in Bill's face. "You're allowed to take one. Only one."

He grabbed the yellowest one he saw and bit in. "Huh. Piña colada. Weird." He took another bite and leaned around the open box lid to look at Mabel. "So. Did you two have fun?"

"Yes! It was a blast!" Mabel gushed. "We got lunch in Portland, and we talked foreverrr, and we've got more in common than I ever imagined, and we're gonna make more trips to Portland soon! I think it really brought us closer together."

"Huh." Bill's gaze flicked up to Ford. "How about that." Ford's face betrayed nothing. Bill looked back at Mabel and grinned wider. "Glad he's less of a killjoy than I thought."

"Pffft! You know he knows how to have fun," Mabel said. "Mr. God of Long Odds."

Bill's eyebrows shot up.

Mabel squeezed past Bill into the kitchen. "Abuelita, if you want a donut, I'm putting them in the bottom left cabinet with the pots."

"Thank you, Mabel."

"I'm taking Ford to the record store to introduce him to late 80's music," Mabel went on. "And we saw a crystal shop that isn't there depending on which way you're driving! Whaaat! Crazy, right!" 

"Oh, you found Occulted Crystals?" Now Bill's grin was aimed at Ford. "I know you didn't get that bracelet there. Didn't figure out how to get in?" He winked. "Do you want to?"

Ford's expression darkened; but before he could say anything, Mabel darted back into the entryway. "No! No spoilers! You'll ruin the fun of figuring it out!"

Bill laughed. "Okay, fine! Just one safety tip: never go looking for it on an empty stomach."

Mabel gave him a distrustful look. "Will that help us get in?"

"It'll help you get back out."

She nodded slowly. "Good to know." She hugged Ford. "I'll be right back! I haven't been to the bathroom since lunch." She bounded upstairs.

Leaving Ford with Bill.

Bill simply smiled. "You talked about DD&MD? That takes me back."

"I know what you're up to, you snake," Ford said. "And it's not going to work. At least leave her out of it."

"Hey, you can't blame me for worrying about her," Bill said. "She's such a caring little thing. And you don't have a strong history of family loyalty."

Ford's hands curled into fists; but he forced himself to turn away from Bill without acknowledging him, and headed for his and Stan's guest room.

"But hey," Bill called after him. "I really am thrilled to see you two getting along so well."

Nothing in Bill's tone sounded sarcastic. Ford paused and glanced back at him suspiciously; but then he shook his head and kept going.

Bill's smile faded. He made a rude gesture at Ford's back; then returned to his post at the kitchen table to listen to Abuelita's gossip and make sure she didn't touch the poison.

####

(Thank y'all for not pulling out the pitchforks at the end of last chapter lol. If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate a comment or reblog! Thanks! 💕)

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the celestial dragons needing Shanks to stop you

Warning: slight spoilers? Use of a previously seen character's name that is release in more recent chapters (1050-1079?)

At Mary Geiose

Shanks: so....why am I here?

Jaygarica Saturn: We need to talk about that little fighter of yours. *Holds up your wanted poster*

Shanks: Oh yeah, they got separated from the crew a few weeks ago, and I haven't seen or heard from them since. *Voice dips to a threatening grumble, and he glares at the old man* Should I be worried?

Jaygarcia Saturn: well, not in the way I think you're implying, they're not in custody. The matter at hand is that a lone member of your crew is causing mass chaos.

Shanks: are you sure we're talking about the same person? I've never had them so much as step a toe out of line.

Jaygarcia Saturn: They've burned down three town halls, stolen six navy ships, injured hundreds of marines, stolen jewelry from wealthy ladies in six kingdoms, and that's not even the worst of it. They're sabotaging and systematically dismantling the animal fighting syndicates. Just yesterday they allied themself with a group of knife fighting monkeys that they freed, and together, they trashed an arena.

Shanks: And how is that a problem?

Jaygarcia Saturn: we're loosing money having to replace and repair the damage to the entertainment industry!

Shanks: and whose fault is it for investing in blood sports? Do you expect anyone to feel sad for you and your 'losses'?

Jaygarcia Saturn: Look... We'll pay you to go collect your fighter.

Shanks: *scoffs* Do you seriously expect me to hand a member of my crew over to you?

Jaygarcia Saturn: no, no, simply collect them, what you do with them after they are in your custody is up to you.

Shanks: I want their full bounty price, up front. And I mean the one you set it to this morning, not this outdated one.

Jaygarcia Saturn: *sweats* very well

A week later

You: *currently picking a lock some bird that are being trafficked*

Shanks: *snuck up on you and is now crouching behind you,* You're doing it wrong.

You: *shrieks and throws yourself against the cage door* Captain, what are you doing here?

Shanks: Shhh, keep your voice down, and giving you lock picking lessons, apparently. Even though you've always claimed to be a decent at it.

You: *hisses* I know how to pick a lock.

Shanks: evidently not, since you miscounted the pins.

You: you do it then, since you're so smart.

Shanks: *takes your tools and picks the lock in less than thirty seconds* see?

You: *sighs* Alright you're better at picking locks than me. By the way, how did you find me, boss?

Shanks: The celestial dickheads complained about you, and paid me your full bounty to come get you.

You: I'll come willingly if you put that money towards fixing my shower, I'm tired of sharing one with you filthy animals, and if I get first pick on the next treasure we find.

Shanks: *laughs and shakes his head* very well, that sounds like a deal.

You: *shakes his hand* deal, and the world nobles never specified for you to stop me?

Shanks: ... no?

You: then you you wanna help me free the rest of these animals?

Shanks: sure why not, sounds like an evening well spent.

The morning in Mary Geiose

Jaygarcia Saturn: *reading the newspaper and seeing that you and Shanks had destroyed several cargo ships for trafficking after letting the animals go* I guess we'll have to cut our losses, we might be able to even spin it in our favor. Germane, go get PR on the snail, we have some cleaning up to do, and actions to take credit for.... Oh! We can use *snaps his fingers* That flowery fanatic, what's his name... Oh well, it's not important.

Coming Soon

[deepspacedukat]

The Lifeline - Part Three: To Have An Open Flame

Vreenak decided it was his turn. He's the kind of chaotic stability I needed right now, tbh. Anyway, still winging it. Enjoy!

Part One here. Part Two here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vreenak (DS9) x Reader

[A/N: There will be suggestiveness in future chapters so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: References to Romulan politics, espionage, stalking, references to an interspecies relationship, pre-Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, angst, time travel bs, references to marriage/a mating bond, skeptical Vreenak, Romulan undercover as a Vulcan, mentions of a previous Vulcan/Human failed relationship, he's falling and he doesn't even know it, Romulan reading a Human romance novel.

~*~

I really have no reason to be nervous, I thought to myself as I got my lunch from the replicator. He's probably just uncomfortable with his new surroundings, and being Vulcan, it's difficult for him to express his discomfort.

Turning with my lunch tray, I caught sight of my current objective: Velek sat alone at a table in the mess hall, eating his lunch and reading a PADD. Thinking of those icy blue eyes again made my heart thud in my chest. Really, he was gorgeous, but he was also grumpy enough to make him a bit scary. Well, maybe he himself didn't scare me, but the thought of being on the receiving end of his anger, suppressed or not, definitely did.

Come on. Realistically, what's he going to do? Scowl you to death?

With a deep breath, I made my way over to him, putting on what I hoped was a friendly smile and not a terrified grimace. As I approached, his eyes flicked up and practically froze me in place.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He asked in an almost deadly-quiet tone.

...I hated that he still sounded so sexy. Really, it wasn't fair. I was actively trying not to fall for any more Vulcans, and he was not making it easy.

"Hi! Er, uh, good afternoon, Lieutenant," I said trying to sound less terrified and more confident. "Is this seat free?"

He glanced at the seat across from him and back at me, seemingly considering his options. The Mess Hall was almost full, so seating was limited anyway. It wasn't like this an unreasonable request, but I guessed he was still trying to find a polite way to refuse. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize and go try to find another seat, he sighed.

"Yes, it is currently unoccupied," he said setting his PADD aside.

"May I...?" I gestured to the seat, trying to give him an opportunity to refuse, if he really didn't want me there.

"...You may." Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I thanked him quietly and sat down, trying to be mindful of his space so that I wouldn't make him more uncomfortable than he already appeared to be. "I trust you're ready for the anomaly scan analysis?"

"Oh, yes. I'm looking forward to seeing how this pulsar cluster differs from a couple of the others I've read about," I answered, and at that he lifted a sharp eyebrow.

"You've worked with these sorts of phenomena before?" He sounded genuinely interested, which I took as a tentatively positive sign.

"Well, as they're rare, I haven't had the opportunity before, but phenomena like these have been of particular interest to me since the Academy, so I've read pretty much all there is to know about them," I explained. "I've studied all the procedures, and I know that actually doing something in the field is much different than just studying the theories involved, but I'm confident in my abilities, so..."

I trailed off with a shrug.

"What about you? Have you ever studied a pulsar cluster up close before?"

"Twice, yes, but not in many years. I was barely thirty when I saw my first, then fifty when I saw my second," he said, and I felt my eyes widen. I knew he was older than he looked by Human standards, because of his Vulcan heritage, but it still took me by surprise that he was over fifty. It really shouldn't have stunned me, hell, even Torek was over seventy. Did...Did that mean he was closer to maybe...ninety?

Mental math aside, I nodded my head, trying to focus on the science aspect of the conversation rather than Velek.

"Oh really? That must've been so fascinating." I leaned a little closer in my seat. "Were they about this size, or...?"

"Both were smaller, actually," he said; some of the barrier in his gaze came down as he spoke. "Neither of the events I observed were quite this strong, either. I must admit, if I was not–"

He cut himself off abruptly as if he'd caught himself from saying something he shouldn't.

"I...am intrigued to see what differences this cluster will yield," he finished quietly, and if I was not very much mistaken, the tips of his ears had turned a darker shade of green than they were before. He crammed a bite of food into his mouth, staunchly not meeting my gaze, and I did the same, not wanting him to feel as though he was obligated to speak if he didn't wish to.

After a few moments of quiet, furtive looks between us, Velek and I accidentally met each other's gazes and froze.

"We're lucky to have you here, you know," I said, trying to set him at ease. "We've been a bit short-staffed lately, so your arrival couldn't have been better-timed."

"...Your gratitude is...appreciated, but misplaced," he began, some of the coldness seeping back into his tone. "I am here for the work. Nothing more."

With that sentiment out in the open, I realized I'd likely overstayed my welcome. Feeling awkward and out of place, I got to my feet.

Maybe his surroundings weren't making him uncomfortable. Maybe it was me.

"My apologies. I'll just...get out of your hair. Have a good rest of your shift," I said giving him a sheepish, apologetic smile and walking away before he could say anything. Shoving my mostly-full tray into the replicator to be recycled, I made my way back to my station. My appetite was gone.

--

Vreenak watched her walk out of the Mess Hall with a sinking feeling. Why did he care whether he'd hurt a little hevam's feelings? She was nothing to him. He was here specifically to avoid acquiring a Human wife. What did it matter if her poor, weak little emotions were injured?

He huffed quietly to himself and picked up the report he was supposed to be reading. Instead, though, his mind was focused solely on the expression that had crossed her face just before she rushed out: a mixture of pain, embarrassment, and regret. Had he truly been so intimidating? A sigh escaped his lips. Of course he had! He was the Vice-Chairman of the Tal Shiar, for Elements' sake, of course his looks were as cutting as his tongue was in Senate sessions.

Putting his own half-empty tray into the replicator, he made his way back to his station, trying to force his mind back into neutral territory to maintain his cover. That same look kept returning to his mind's eye even as he worked.

Later that night, they read through the next chapter of her book. Really, she'd chosen such a trite little story. Were these two actually meant to be together? He hated her, yet she was still mooning after him like a pathetic baby set'leth crying for its mother. It was hard for him to imagine the story ending well, but her Trill friend mentioned that it had a happy ending the last time she visited the Lieutenant's quarters. Why would anyone endure something so painful? Was love really worth that much?

Vreenak read a bit slower that night, finding himself repeatedly distracted by the way she looked. The shape of her nose, the curve of her cheeks...her rounded, extremely Human ears...

Eventually, she went to bed, and Vreenak did as well, but disturbingly, he found himself thinking about the message. 'Vree, honey,' she'd called him. She'd shortened his name, and he had the rather unsettling thought that in her voice, he actually liked how it sounded.

When he drifted to sleep that night, there was a small smile upon his lips at the ridiculous yet heady thought of her saying the entirety of his real name. Not that he would admit to such a thing, of course. Exhausted minds were prone to playing tricks on their owners.

Days passed, during which they kept to their little routine. They'd complete their shifts with minimal interaction, go back to their respective quarters, and Vreenak would read along with her in that insipid romance novel. The male love interest was, for lack of a better term, a complete veruul. If he simply admitted how he was feeling, there would be significantly fewer problems, and they could have ended this terrible book several chapters earlier.

Vreenak was grateful beyond words that he was not that dense. If he cared for a woman, he'd be brave enough to confront those feelings and do something about it. What a coward, that character was to hide behind his fear of losing her as if it was some sort of cloaking device! He was glad they were nearly three quarters of the way through.

He put the book away when she did, and assuming that she was off to bed, he went to change out of his uniform. He'd stripped down, and thrown on a dark green pair of sleep pants and a matching robe, but as soon as he went to begin his evening routine, the door chime sounded. Who would call on him this late at night?

--

When the doors to Velek's quarters slid open, I blinked in surprise. He was already out of uniform, wearing instead a dark green silk robe.

"Do you require something, Lieutenant?" At Velek's harsh, impatient tone, I used all of my restraint to keep from staring at the exposed stripe of his chest peeking out from behind the soft fabric. I must've looked like a startled deer!

"I apologize for disturbing you. The Captain just wanted me to check in and see how you were adjusting to your new post," I answered, which was partially the truth. Velek had been withdrawn - more than other Vulcan crew members I'd encountered, in any case. Despite extraneous socializing being considered largely unnecessary and illogical, most Vulcans engaged in at least a little bit of it. Velek, though, did not, which suggested continued discomfort on his part. "May I come in?"

After a long, hard stare, Velek stepped aside, and I took the opportunity to slip past him into his living space...

His...still-utterly-bare living space. Other than a few data PADDs and an empty glass on a table near the viewport, his quarters seemed virtually untouched. Had he not unpacked in the nearly two weeks that he'd been here?

"I apologize for my appearance. I was attempting to meditate and did not anticipate having a guest," Velek called, but he didn't make any move to draw the sides of his robe tighter around himself. At least he was comfortable enough to take that small liberty. Given the view, I certainly wasn't complaining.

"Where are your candles?" The question flew from my lips before I could stop it, and he paused.

"I neglected to acquire more before my last transfer, and as they cannot be replicated properly, I do not have access to them." Maybe that was why he was so short-tempered! He couldn't meditate properly! I knew how important the candles were to the process, and I knew the replicated ones gave off an unpleasant aroma - something about the synthetic oils didn't settle correctly into the wax mixture.

"Oh, I see. I, um...Is there anything I can do to make adjusting to this post any easier?" I asked as I turned to face him, only to see his eyes skimming slowly up my body as if he'd been observing me. No. That was too much to hope for.

"Nothing comes to mind at present," he said, and I nodded my head.

"Has everyone been treating you alright since you got here? Are they making you feel welcome?"

He walked over to his sofa and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"As the rest of the crew have respected my desire not to socialize, I have no reason to complain." The ice had reentered his voice.

Oh. Right. He didn't like me. The glimpse of his bare chest had all but obliterated my rational thoughts.

"Oh, good. Well, uh, I apologize for interrupting your evening. I'll just go report to the Captain and leave you in peace." I practically bolted from his quarters before I could do something really stupid like asking if he wanted a completely logical cuddle.

--

How odd that she would run out like that right when he was going to break down and offer her a seat and a drink. Granted, he wasn't wearing his uniform, but he didn't look that bad...did he?

He glanced down at himself and felt an uncomfortable wrinkle of insecurity. A bit of his chest was showing, but he knew he looked better in this than he did in a Starfleet uniform. There was no question that this was more sensual, and she'd already admitted to her friend that she found him attractive, so...what was there for her to dislike?

Unsettled, he made his way to bed, but he couldn't coax his mind into a state peaceful enough for sleep. When Vreenak left his quarters for duty as a slightly more tired version of Lieutenant Velek the next morning, he spotted a box beside his door with his alias on the digital tag. Bending to inspect it, his brows lifted at the note it contained.

'I hope these help you feel more at home. Welcome aboard!'

Attached was a file giving written consent for an open flame in his quarters from the Captain. An open flame? Opening the box, he discovered a bundle of traditional Vulcan meditation candles.

There was only one person from whom these could have reasonably come. Glancing at the door to the quarters beside his, Vreenak couldn't help but feel a hint of surprise. Why would she be kind to him when he hadn't been that way to her? He'd attempted to shut down every friendly overture she'd made toward him, but he clearly hadn't succeeded.

And, did this mean she hadn't disliked what she'd seen of him the night before?

...More importantly, why should Vreenak care what she thought?

Quickly moving the box inside, he took a deep, steadying breath and headed to his station in the forward science lab. Sure enough, she'd beaten him there as always.

He wondered, as he often had these first two weeks, whether she'd slept better than he had. The skin beneath her eyes was darker than the rest, and Vreenak was stunned to feel concern bloom in his chest. Her self-deprecating jokes about insomnia had at least some basis in truth, then.

Again, why should he care? She was just a Federation officer! She was a mystery to be solved, a whisper from a potential version of the future, nothing more. He had a mission to accomplish. There was no time for him to become sidetracked by trivialities like some hev– some Human's health. He realized he'd been watching her for several seconds, but before he could turn away, she caught him staring.

Maybe that Trill was right. Vreenak must be getting older if he was slipping so severely.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," she called with a tentative smile stretching her lips. Forcing himself to move, he stepped over to the adjoining station and started his work for the day.

"The candles you left me..." he began, but as soon as he spoke, she looked over at him and his mind went blank. What...had he been saying?

"They...They are the traditional type. A-And, they're not replicated, I promise," she murmured when he didn't continue. "I apologize if I overstepped, but I just thought...I mean, when I was at the Academy, two of the three cadets I shared quarters with were Vulcans, and I always kept a few extras in case they needed them. It's sort of become a habit, and when you said you didn't have any..."

She trailed off, and Vreenak had to exert more force than he expected to keep himself from smiling at her. Vulcans didn't smile. Why did he suddenly resent that?

"It was not necessary, but...I appreciate them. You have my gratitude." He might not really be Vulcan, but the thought and intention behind the gesture touched him. He'd done nothing but be brusque and prickly with her, but she'd still managed to find enough kindness in her heart to offer him yet another olive branch. She was as stubborn as he was.

They worked on their respective tasks, side-by-side in silence for a moment before she spoke.

"So...does that mean we can be friends now?" The mischief in her voice made him glance at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Do not push your luck," he muttered, and though his voice was as intimidating as it had always been with her, she simply smirked and turned back to her terminal.

And he was proud of her reaction.

The realization made him pause. Proud? What reason had he to be proud of a Human? He should hate her! She was the reason he'd been inconvenienced with this mission in the first place. Her call from the lonely darkness of the Delta Quadrant was what had summoned him from his cushy position in the Senate.

He should be home on Romulus, not wasting his time on a Federation science vessel. Abruptly, he stood and made his way to a different station, acting as though he required access to another set of data simply so he could put some distance between them.

This Lieutenant would not be his wife - she was nothing to him - therefore, there was no reason for him to become attached. Simple.

...So, why did he feel the loss of her proximity so keenly when he reached the other side of the lab?

Vreenak had become too involved in his role as Velek. To a Vulcan like his cover, she would be a perfect candidate for a mate. Studious, dedicated, accommodating, warm...the likelihood of her rejecting his attentions would be low...

Instinctively to a Vulcan, she would be perfect. For a Romulan, however, she was barely adequate. She needed more...more...something. Cunning, perhaps? Her naïveté was clearly uninspiring.

Yes, that was it. Vreenak was simply delving too deeply into his cover. All he needed to do was remind himself of why he was here: to investigate a Federation officer who would, at some point in the future, come to know three influential Romulans by name when she shouldn't. Threat assessment and, if necessary, removal.

Throughout his shift that day, his thoughts kept straying to the candles in his quarters. He told himself it was just one more piece to the puzzle.

~*~*~

Romulan Words:

hevam - derogatory term for human

veruul - fool

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[livrere-green]

I'm response to @mylu comment on this post:

thanks for asking, now deal with me

Premise: when you fall in love with someone you tend to unconsciously put them on a pedestal, highlighting their best qualities —and unconsciously overlooking the others—; however, sometimes such standards are way too high because they're the result of you excessively idealizing another human to almost perfection. I'm not saying edwin did this overnight or at extremes, but probably it started happening at some point within the thirty years they have known each other, and edwin wasn't even aware of what was happening in his head, that's for sure.

Explanation: what I'm trying to say is that probably charles was aware of edwin expecting something from him. I mean he didn't take that as edwin being in love with him but just as his only friend believing in him and his capacity to be the persona he had been carefully handcrafting, so he kept going with it, being the kind, brave, sunshine character, and don't get me wrong, he is all those good things (but there's more in him yk?)

the truly funny thing about this id that i don't think that mask was perfect, I think there were cracks here and there, but they weren't as noticeable as what happened after the devlin's case —and crystal wasn't there to break the news to both of them about reality— maybe charles actions were passed as excusable or even reasonable by edwin himself.

perhaps charles did some violent shit when he couldn't deal with his anger and edwin thought that it was just the force needed to save them both from a dangerous situations or solve a case, and then, charles learned to use all sorts of weapons because deep down he was still feeling in danger and probably edwin though that he was just being dedicated with their job —and good and strong and smart and just trying to keep them safe from all the dangerous creatures out there— [corrected cause I made a mistake here] (...)

did this in such an unconscious way that when crystal told him about charles and what was happening with him, he had to stop for a second and restart his brain to re-evaluate all the moments within the past thirty years.

and don't get me wrong, facing charles' bad side was not about to make edwin love him any less... If something, the pain, suffering, anger and trauma were not about to erase their feelings, but the contrary, being truth to one another is what ends up reinforcing their relationship.

[royaltrashkin]

AITA for asking my friend for a melon daiquiri after he asked me over to hang out with him and his wife??? TL;DR at end.

For reference, we are all in our early 30s and I introduced them to each other. I get a message from my old college friend I haven't seen in years, asking if I can come catch up with him and his wife for their tenth anniversary.

So I show up when I was asked, and I can hear them arguing about me being there through the door. I didn't hear the whole conversation obviously but it sounded like his wife thought I was going to be there later. Even after I knock and get invited in, when my friend goes to get his wife from down the hall I can hear them whisper arguing all the way to the living room. So maybe I was just there at a bad time and this is a big misunderstanding because honestly I'm very confused about this whole situation. I could feel the tension between them immediately, I felt so awkward greeting both of them because I'm not sure if they know I overheard them arguing specifically about me being there. I think they must've felt super awkward too because about thirty seconds in, I have literally just asked how they're doing and they didn't even really answer just kinda avoided the question, he suggests that he make us all fancy drinks. And I'm like yeah sure and he's way too excited to go make us something, and his wife is kinda annoyed about this, like she rolls her eyes and tells me that no, I want something simple like a chardonnay. (I as in me. As in, she is telling me what I, not her, want.) She sounds really angry about him wanting to make something cool and insistent that I want something simple. So I feel like this is where I screwed up. I have literally said nothing except "how are you doing" and "yeah sure" at this point so again I genuinely feel like I can't have done anything wrong beyond simply being there because it's just so awkward and tension filled. I cannot stress enough how intense the vibe in there was, so maybe they do know I overheard them argue? I only overheard about ten seconds really, but maybe they think I heard more. I don't know. Anyway so because he seems so excited to make something fancy, I told him "I'd like a melon daiquiri." And he just. Immediately. I mean IMMEDIATELY kicked me out of his house. He literally flipped like a switch from excited and eager to snapping at me that he's had enough and I need to leave. I thought he was joking so I just kinda stood there staring at him but he physically grabbed my arm and led me to the door. I didn't fight him or try to stay put or anything, i allowed him to lead me out his door, but that's just how fast it happened. He immediately told me to leave and grabbed me and led me away, i mean i stood in shock maybe one full second. I was eight feet from his door at the time. I was in their apartment two minutes tops? Seriously. Two minutes. I said maybe fifteen words. I don't know if the polite thing to do was to just leave and not bother knocking once I heard them arguing, or maybe should have told them? Maybe showing up exactly on time was too clingy? Should I have taken his wife's advice and had the chardonnay? Was my choice too fancy? Should I have asked what he had available? Should I have turned down his offer entirely? People don't just kick people out for no reason, so I must have screwed up somewhere. It's been a few hours since then and I'm still baffled.

TL;DR: I got kicked out of my friends' apartment after he offered to make a fancy drink and I asked for a melon daiquiri.

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 10

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel x f! Reader

You wanted to tell Joel about Vic but you decided to keep it to yourself for now. He was so at ease when you'd last seen him at the house that you didn't want to ruin it on account of the same jackass's behavior.

When you got down to the junk yard you spotted him working on a car across the dusty lot. The thought of him being there all by himself made you shudder. If someone wanted to do him harm he wouldn't have anyone nearby to turn to. The place was like its own little ghost town.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached.

He squinted and smiled. "Hey."

"Picked us up some chips, too."

"Thank you." Joel showed off his greasy hands but leaned in for a quick kiss.

"I can put them in the shop," you suggested, making him nod.

"Sorry I had to come in like this. I know we sort of unofficially had planned to spend the day together."

"Ronnie seems like a good guy," you said. "I think it's nice that you helped him today."

"He's been my only friend through all of this," Joel acknowledged with a nod. "And he's a great boss, so.."

You completely understood. "Hey, um.. not to sound paranoid but, you're safe here, right?" You elaborated to make more sense. "I ask because it's so quiet here. You're all alone. Anyone could just wander in."

"We usually keep the gates locked until a car shows up but I knew you were coming down," Joel informed you. "No one really messes with us out here."

He lead the way into the bay. "I'm just going to wash up. I'll be right back. There's a picnic table out behind the building if you want to eat there."

"Okay." You made your way back out and wandered around the side of the brick building. The picnic table sat alone beside the woods line where the chain link perimeter fence blocked out the rest of the world.

You reached in the bag, setting Joel's sandwich across from where you sat with yours. He joined you a moment later with two cans of Diet Coke.

Vic's name was on the tip of your tongue. You didn't know what to do - tell Joel or remain quiet about it.

"Everything okay?" He asked as he unwrapped the paper around the grinder.

"Yeah." You managed a smile and did the same, taking a bite from the end of it.

Joel squinted his eyes but began to eat. "Rosa's has the best sandwiches in town."

"Yeah, they're good," you agreed.

He took in your posture again and looked you up and down. "Hey." Joel reached for your hand across the table. "If things are moving too fast, I want you to let me know."

"I don't think they're moving too fast." You insisted, shaking your head.

"I kind of put you on the spot this morning with asking you to stay over again.. and again." He laughed lightly but quickly became more serious.

"I was happy you asked," you told him. "Really." Your smile widened.

Joel smiled back, "You'd tell me otherwise?" He asked.

You slowly nodded, continuing to grin as you rounded the table to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around him and you leaned down and placed a long, closed-mouth kiss on his lips.

"I have to tell you something," you told him, not wanting to keep secrets. "I just saw Vic Champagne at Rosa's. I didn't know who he was and he confronted me."

"What did he say?" Joel's face grew harder and he looked at you more intently.

"Nothing worth repeating."

"Did he threaten you?"

You shrugged. "I think ignoring him and not letting him get a rise out of us is the best bet."

"Did he threaten you?" Joel repeated.

"Not.. exactly."

You could see that internally Joel was fuming. That's what you didn't want. You wanted to see the contentment in his eyes like he had thirty second before.

"If he threatened you-"

"He didn't." You sighed and then a smile formed on your face again. "I just didn't want to keep it from you. That's why I told you. Don't let some idiot ruin our lunch together."

Joel let out a deep, decompressing breath and he fought back a smile that eventually broke through. "You don't play fair."

You leaned down and peppered his lips with a short series of kisses. "Can I change the subject and ask you something?"

"Go ahead." His arms wrapped around the base of your back and he locked his fingers there, holding you more firmly in place.

"Are things moving too fast for you?"

Joel looked you directly in the eyes. "No." He shook his head. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page because this all just kind of.."

"Came out of nowhere?"

"Yeah." Joel then added, "In a really good way."

"I'll be up front with you about everything concerning us," you vowed. It seemed to satisfy him but he changed the subject back to Vic.

"I don't want you to be alone after dark or in a place that someone like Vic could do something to hurt you."

"I'm not worried about Vic."

"I am." Joel nodded.

"He seems like he's all talk."

"No. He's not."

The way Joel said that sent a chill down your back. He was genuinely concerned, especially for someone who could most likely hold their own in a fight if it came to it

"He's dangerous," Joel went on. "If he comes near you again and I'm not there I want you to call the police. I'd tell your friends that, too."

"Has he, like.. hurt people before?"

"I don't want to speak ill of the dead, even Johnny, but Vic is way worse. Both of them were bad, been that way since high school and before. Johnny just held it together for the sake of his future football career. Vic never had anything to lose. He has a short rap sheet but he's done more than the law has caught up to."

You nodded and let out a sigh.

"I'm not trying to scare you, but please just.. can you do that for me? Not going alone places you don't have to?"

"I won't," you promised.

"Do I sound controlling?"

"No," you said right away. "You sound concerned.. and for good reason."

"I don't want you to take on my burdens," Joel started but you put a finger on his lips.

"I'm on your side. Don't try to ditch me. I'm in this with you now."

You kissed him once more and then sat back across from him so you could finish your lunch together.

"What do you say we go to The Mischief Farm tonight?" You offered. "There's some cider tasting, we could get some pumpkins to carve. There's the outdoor spot where you can order food and sit by the cornfield."

Joel smirked and gave a nod. "Alright."

"I have some things packed up if the offer still stands to stay over."

"The offer still stands," he confirmed and then asked. "Do you friends know about.. us?"

"Jess knows. She came to the bar with us that night," you informed him. "She's asked me about forty questions since last night. I haven't had a chance to even talk to Winnie or Chrissy."

"Jess probably thinks I'm the weird old guy serial killer or something, huh?"

You laughed. "She actually thought you were kinda hot, and is kind of wishing for, what she calls, a forbidden romance of her own."

Joel chuckled. "Well, I'm glad she doesn't hate me."

"No." You shook your head.

The two of you finished up your sandwiches and Joel walked you back to your car.

"I only have about an hour-and-a-half," he said, "And then I'll meet you back at my place."

You stared around the oversized junkyard, noting someone could be on the grounds so easily without either of you knowing it.

"Are you sure you're okay here alone?" You asked him.

"I'll be fine."

"Well, what about what you said to me about being careful? I want the same for you."

"Outside of work I'll play by the rules," Joel told you. "It's only fair."

You looked around again and made a face. "Okay. But keep your phone's ringer on so I can check in. I don't trust people."

"Okay." Joel kissed you, thanked you again for lunch and you reluctantly drove back out of the gates of the junk yard.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 11

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3