#it literally froze before the last 6

[fishy006]

it’s the way my tv kept freezing and usually on rlly important moments. omg i was stressed! but WE WON!!

[seafarersdream]

Last Friday Night | Modern AU! (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the realm of scandalous misdeeds, slumbering with your brother’s best friend should be a cardinal sin—dangerous liaison that Y/N Velaryon ought to steer clear of, now nor in any future reincarnation. But, oh, how the rules bend under the weight of temptation. A night of drunken sex with Cregan Stark, Jace’s insanely hot best mate and a towering 6-foot something alpine skier with ice in his veins. What a night it was! Only problem? They were both so tipsy that the details are a hazy blur, and now they awaken in a tangled mess beside each other. Word count: 5,6k

TW // Strong language and profanities, sexual content, mentions of alcohol, smoking.

“Fuck.”

That was the first coherent thought Y/N Velaryon had when she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed like a drum, each pulse a reminder of why tequila shots are the devil’s work. The room was unfamiliar—definitely not hers. The bed was too big, the sheets too expensive, and the body lying beside her too…well, fuck again.

She turned her head slowly, hoping against hope that her suspicions were wrong. Maybe it was some rando, some nameless, faceless guy who she could shove out the door with minimal awkwardness. But when she finally caught a glimpse of the dark, messy hair and the broad, bare back that could only belong to one man, she groaned internally.

Cregan fucking Stark.

Of course, it was him. It couldn’t just be some forgettable one-night stand. It had to be her brother’s best friend, the guy Jace had always been crystal clear was off-limits. And here they were, in bed together, like the setup to some bad rom-com, except this was way more fucked up.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. There were flashes—Jace convincing her to go to some ridiculous party at a mutual friend’s country estate (more like a palace really), the champagne flowing, the ridiculous number of shots, and the way Cregan had looked at her from across the room. Not that she'd paid much attention, or so she thought.

And then…nothing. A blank slate. Well, at least until now, when the reality of waking up next to the man Jace had declared off-limits hit her like a truck.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, shifting slightly to get out of bed without waking Cregan. But the sheets rustled, and before she could even swing her legs out, a deep voice rumbled beside her.

“Morning.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She froze, mid-escape, and slowly turned to face him. Cregan was wide awake, propped up on one elbow, smirking at her like the cocky bastard he was.

“Morning,” she croaked, her mouth dry as hell. “This is, um…”

“A fucking disaster?” he suggested, his grin widening.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Cregan chuckled, the sound rich and annoyingly sexy, even through her hangover. He looked far too pleased with himself, considering the circumstances. His dark eyes held hers, and for a second, Y/N was painfully aware of the fact that she was still very much naked under these sheets. So was he.

This was beyond bad.

“I remember bits and pieces,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “But not…this. Why didn’t you stop me? Or yourself?”

“You think I could have stopped you?” Cregan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were pretty damn determined.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the pillows. “Fuck. Jace is going to kill us. You know that, right? He’s literally going to skin you alive.”

“Pretty sure he’s got more important things to worry about than who his sister hooks up with,” Cregan said, stretching lazily. “Not that I’m planning on telling him.”

She shot him a look. “And how exactly do you think we’re going to keep this a secret? He’ll know. Jace always knows when I’m up to something. He’s like a damn oracle.”

Cregan shrugged, like he wasn’t at all fazed by the prospect of Jace’s wrath. Which, Y/N supposed, he wouldn’t be. Cregan Stark was all ice and steel when it came to handling pressure. Professional alpine skier, always on the edge of danger—like he didn’t have enough adrenaline in his life without adding ‘sleeping with his best friend’s little sister’ to the list.

“We just pretend it didn’t happen,” Cregan suggested, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “Last night was a blur, and this morning’s just a bad dream. We’ll go our separate ways, no one’s the wiser.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Y/N asked skeptically.

“We won’t know unless we try,” he replied, his tone almost teasing.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d just finished uni, started her internship at a nice law firm, and was supposed to be focusing on her career. Instead, she was tangled up in the sheets with Cregan Stark, about to engage in the most complicated cover-up of her life.

“Fine,” she finally said, exhaling sharply. “But if Jace finds out, you’re the one explaining it to him.”

“Deal.” Cregan’s smirk softened into something almost genuine, and for a moment, Y/N’s stomach did a weird flip.

She quickly pushed the feeling down. This was a one-time thing, a mistake—one she couldn’t afford to repeat, no matter how tempting it might be. The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.

“Okay, I need to get out of here,” Y/N said, sitting up and scanning the room for her clothes. They were scattered across the floor, a chaotic mix of her dress, shoes, and underwear. Cregan’s clothes were mingled with hers—of course, he didn’t seem to be in any rush to get up. Typical.

As she scrambled out of bed, trying to gather her things, she felt Cregan’s eyes on her, and when she looked back, there was something in his gaze that made her pause. It wasn’t just the lazy, post-hookup look she expected. There was something else, something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. But before she could analyze it further, he smirked again, shattering the moment.

“Need any help?” he offered, his tone suggesting anything but.

“I’m good,” she replied quickly, slipping into her dress and trying to maintain whatever dignity she had left. “I’ll just, uh, see myself out.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Cregan said, his voice holding a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify—teasing, maybe, or was it something more?

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get out of here, get back to her place, and pretend this never happened. As she slipped her shoes on and made a beeline for the door, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, and it took every ounce of willpower not to look back.

The walk of shame had never been so literal.

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Y/N finally made it back to her flat in South Kensington, pushing through the ache in her head and the overwhelming need for a gallon of water and a hot shower. She fumbled with her keys, silently praying to every god she didn’t believe in that Jace would still be at the photoshoot he’d mentioned yesterday.

But as soon as she swung the door open, she knew her luck had run out.

Jace Velaryon was sprawled out on her couch like he owned the place—legs kicked up on the coffee table, remote in one hand, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the other. He looked up as she entered, and his face lit up in that way only big brothers get when they know they’re about to cause trouble.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, a grin spreading across his face. “Look who’s doing the walk of shame this morning.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, Jace. I just went for a…walk.” Even she cringed at how lame that sounded.

“A walk?” Jace repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In last night’s dress and heels? That’s a new one, even for you.”

“I wasn’t—” she started, but Jace cut her off with a laugh.

“Please, sis. Don’t even try it. I’ve known you too long to fall for that bullshit.” He sat up, clearly enjoying himself. “So, who was the lucky guy? Or girl? I’m open-minded.”

She shot him a glare, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks. “It’s none of your business, Jace.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined. “You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to make your love life my business.”

She snorted, moving past him toward the kitchen. “Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships.”

“Hey, I’ve been in plenty of—” he began defensively, but she cut him off.

“One-night stands don’t count, Jace.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But seriously, you look like death warmed over. Was the party that wild?”

Y/N could still feel the blood rushing to her face, and she kept her back to him, rummaging in the fridge for a bottle of infused water. “Yeah, it was…something.”

“I knew it!” Jace crowed, slapping his knee. “I knew you’d have a good time once you loosened up. See, you should listen to me more often. You’re always so serious with your work stuff, but you gotta live a little, Y/N. You’re too young to be so…responsible.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Jace had a point. Her life had been all about exams and internships lately, no time for fun or the kind of reckless behavior that usually ended with waking up next to a Stark.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Party more, work less,” she muttered, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long drink.

Jace leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, was he hot at least? This guy you left with?”

Y/N almost choked on her water. “What? I didn’t leave with anyone.”

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “That’s why you’re sneaking back in at ten in the morning with bedhead and makeup smudged like a panda. Come on, just tell me who it was. Was it that guy Luke introduced you to last week? What was his name…Liam? Leon?”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Hells, Jace, can you just drop it?”

Jace grinned, leaning back again. “Oh, this must’ve been a really good one if you’re getting this defensive. Come on, Y/N, I’m dying here. Give me something.”

For a second, she considered telling him the truth—just blurting it out and watching the chaos unfold. But then she thought of Cregan’s lazy smile, the way he’d suggested they just forget about it and move on. The way her brother would probably explode into a million pieces if he knew. And she decided against it.

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “If you must know, it was some random bloke, okay? No one you know. Just a guy. But yes, he is fit. Satisfied?”

Jace considered this, squinting at her as if trying to detect a lie. Finally, he shrugged. “I guess. But if you don’t want me to know, that just makes me want to know more. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she replied, moving past him again, hoping he’d drop it.

He watched her go, still grinning like an idiot. “You know, you should bring him to the next party,” he called after her. “Introduce me. I promise I won’t bite…unless he’s into that sort of thing.”

Y/N groaned and flipped him off over her shoulder. “You’re disgusting, Jace.”

“Love you too, sis,” he shot back, laughing. “And don’t think I won’t find out who it is. I always do.”

She shook her head, muttering curses under her breath as she retreated to her room. She needed a shower, a coffee, and about ten years of therapy to figure out how she’d ended up in bed with Cregan Stark of all people. But first, she needed to figure out how to keep Jace in the dark. Because if he ever found out…

Well, that wasn’t even worth thinking about.

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Cregan Stark stood in the middle of his wrecked bedroom, hands on his hips, surveying the chaos. Sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, a lamp somehow knocked over. It looked like a tornado had swept through, and that tornado’s name was Y/N Velaryon.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. He tried to piece together the events of last night, but the details were hazy, like trying to grab smoke with his bare hands. He remembered flashes—the way she looked at him, the heat in her gaze, the sound of her laugh, and the taste of alcohol on her lips.

But everything after that? A blur.

Goddamn shame, too, because if there was anything he wanted to remember clearly, it was Y/N Velaryon in his bed, under him, her nails digging into his back. Fuck, he’d have liked to play that on repeat in his mind forever, but the alcohol had betrayed him, stealing away the details of what was undoubtedly the hottest night of his life.

He started picking up his last night’s clothes scattered across the floor and cursed himself again. How could he forget? He rarely drank that much, being an athlete and all, but last night…last night had been something else. He found his shirt flung over the back of a chair, his pants half-hanging off the edge of the bed. His brief were bunched up in the corner, and then—

Oh.

A small, red scrap of lace was tangled up in the sheets. He picked it up, grinning as he realized it was her G-string. She must’ve been in one hell of a hurry to leave it behind. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the delicate fabric, imagining her wearing it, and smirked.

“One hell of a merchandise,” he muttered with a chuckle, tucking the lace into his pocket. “Score.”

It was stupid, really. A goddamn G-string, and here he was, acting like he’d found a winning lottery ticket. But there was something about Y/N—something that had always pulled him in, even when he’d been trying his hardest to ignore it. Jace’s little sister, forbidden territory. He’d spent years pretending he didn’t notice how fucking gorgeous she’d grown, how smart and sharp-tongued she was. But last night had shattered all of that pretense into a million pieces.

He shoved the rest of the clothes into a messy laundry pile, wondering how long it would take for Jace to find out. Y/N was good at keeping secrets, he’d give her that, but Jace was practically psychic when it came to his sister. Cregan could already hear his best friend’s voice in his head, pissed off and protective, probably ready to bash his skull in.

But for some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as it should. He found himself smiling, still, as he started straightening up the room. Maybe it was because he liked the idea of having something that was just his and hers—something Jace didn’t know, something they could keep between them.

And hell, if it was anything like last night—at least, what he could remember of it—he wouldn’t mind making a habit of it.

As he finished tidying up, he spotted his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message. He picked it up, already knowing who it would be.

Jace:

Yo, brunch? Need to talk to you about something.

Cregan snorted. Of course, Jace wanted to talk. He always did when something was up with Y/N. He hesitated for a second, wondering if Jace had already figured out what had happened. But nah, if Jace knew, the message would’ve been a lot less polite.

He typed back a quick reply.

Sure, mate. Usual spot?

There was a pause before Jace responded.

Jace:

Yeah, see you in 30. And don’t be late, you lazy fuck.

Cregan chuckled, tossing the phone back on the bed. Yeah, this was going to be fun. He grabbed a fresh shirt, slipped it over his head, and, with a final glance around the now semi-clean room, he headed out.

He might not remember every detail of last night, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him from figuring out how to make it happen again.

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Cregan arrived at the little brasserie they always met at, a tiny spot tucked away on a quiet street. The kind of place with faded awnings and mismatched chairs that served strong coffee and even stronger Bloody Marys. Jace was already sitting outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips, dressed in designer shades and a leather jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent.

“You’re late,” Jace called out as Cregan approached, flicking ash into the street. “I was starting to think you’d bailed.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mate,” Cregan replied, sliding into the chair across from him. “But, you know, mornings are a bitch.” Especially when you’ve just spent them cleaning up the aftermath of what could’ve been the best mistake of your life, he thought.

Jace smirked, passing him the pack of cigarettes. “Yeah, looks like you had a rough one. Big night?”

Cregan shrugged, playing it cool. “Something like that. But hey, speaking of big nights…” He leaned in conspiratorially, lighting his cigarette. “What’s this I hear about Aegon?”

Jace snorted, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “Oh, mate, you haven’t heard? It’s fucking priceless.” He leaned back, tapping the ash off with a grin that was half-amused, half-disgusted. “My dear cousin managed to land himself in the hospital. For his cock.”

Cregan choked on his first drag, coughing out smoke. “What?” he managed between laughs. “His cock? You’re joking.”

“I swear to god,” Jace said, holding up his hand like he was taking an oath. “Apparently, he was trying to pull off some kind of…threesome, foursome, who the fuck knows, at one of those clubs he’s always getting kicked out of. Anyway, things got out of hand, and next thing you know, he’s screaming in agony and they’re rushing him to A&E.”

Cregan was in stitches, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re telling me Aegon actually managed to break his dick?”

“That’s the rumor,” Jace replied, chuckling. “Doctors said it was some kind of penile fracture. Can you imagine? Poor bastard was probably halfway to heaven when he got dragged right down to hell.”

“Thoughts and prayers mate, that’s rough,” Cregan said, still laughing. “How the hell does that even happen?”

Jace grinned, leaning in. “Apparently, he got too enthusiastic. Girl was on top, he was thrusting up, and…” He made a snapping motion with his fingers. “Snap.”

Cregan winced, half in sympathy, half in amazement. “Fuck me, that’s got to hurt. How long’s he gonna be out of commission?”

“Couple of months, at least,” Jace replied, blowing out a stream of smoke. “He’s already whining about it all over social media. You know Aegon. Can’t suffer in silence.”

Cregan snorted. “Sounds like him, alright. Bet he’s milking it for all it’s worth, too. Getting the sympathy votes.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jace agreed. “He’s already got half the city sending him flowers and chocolates like he’s some kind of war hero. Even Mum’s getting involved—sending him a care package like he’s gone off to battle instead of just fucking his way into the emergency room.”

They both laughed, loud and unrestrained, the way only friends who’ve known each other too long can. The kind of laughter that turns heads from the neighboring tables, but they didn’t care. They were in their own world, swapping stories, cigarettes, and coffee.

“Honestly, though,” Cregan said after a moment, shaking his head. “Only Aegon could turn a night out into a medical emergency. Guy’s got a talent.”

Jace grinned, flicking his cigarette butt away. “Yeah, but you know what they say about talent and stupidity—it’s a thin line.”

Cregan chuckled, taking another drag. “And Aegon’s crossed it, time and time again.”

“Too right,” Jace replied, nodding. “But it makes for good entertainment. Can’t wait to see how he spins this one. You just know there’s gonna be some kind of dramatic story about how he risked it all for love or some other bullshit.”

“The hero’s journey,” Cregan quipped, smirking. “Except with more broken bones and fewer dragons.”

Jace laughed. “Fewer dragons, more dick injuries. Welcome to the modern world.”

Cregan took a long drag, blowing out smoke slowly, his mind still partially elsewhere, still thinking about the G-string tucked in his pocket. Yeah, this was the kind of gossip he could get behind, but there were other things—better things—on his mind. Like how he was going to see Y/N again without Jace getting suspicious. Because if Jace found out…

Well, he’d just have to make sure Jace never did.

Jace was mid-sip on his coffee when he caught a glimpse of something on Cregan’s neck. He blinked, did a double take, then broke into a wide, shit-eating grin that could have lit up all of London.

“Oh, no fucking way,” he practically howled, slamming his coffee cup down onto the table and leaning forward. “Is that…what I think it is?”

Cregan, who had been in the middle of stubbing out his cigarette, froze. “What the hell are you on about?”

Jace pointed, still grinning like he’d won the lottery. “Your neck, you dumbass. You’ve got hickeys all over it.”

Cregan felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he reached up, rubbing his neck as if he is already aware of them. “Oh these?”

Jace let out a loud, triumphant laugh. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. Whoever you were with last night really went to town.”

Cregan could feel his face heat up, but he kept his expression neutral. He was an expert at this game; he’d been friends with Jace for too long to let him see he was rattled. “Maybe I just ran into a really aggressive mosquito,” he shot back dryly.

“Bullshit,” Jace cackled, smacking Cregan on the arm. “Come on, bro, spill the beans. Who was it? Who’s the lucky lady leaving marks on your neck like you’re a piece of meat?”

Cregan shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool. He could still feel the faint burn of Y/N’s lips on his skin, and damn if that didn’t send a shiver down his spine, even now. “Just a random girl,” he said casually, waving a hand like it was nothing. “Nothing serious.”

“A random girl, my ass,” Jace scoffed, leaning closer, his grin wider than ever. “Come on, mate. I know you better than that. You don’t let just anyone mark you up like that.”

Cregan rolled his eyes, trying to deflect. “And how would you know what I do or don’t let happen?”

“Because I’ve known you for a decade,” Jace shot back, grabbing another cigarette. “You’re picky. Way pickier than me, and that’s saying something. So, whoever it was…must’ve been special.”

Cregan fought the urge to wince. If only he knew just how “special” the girl had been. He could almost see Jace’s face if he ever found out. Cregan could already imagine the explosion—the yelling, the accusations, and Jace’s unrelenting fury. Yeah, best to keep this under wraps.

He leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “You’re reading too much into it, Jace. It was just a fun night. No big deal.”

“Fun enough to leave those,” Jace said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Seriously, they look fresh. Did you at least get her number?”

Cregan snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Nah. It was just one of those things, you know? No strings attached.”

“Huh, strings,” Jace snickered. “Or no strings…left, eh?”

Cregan’s hand twitched towards his pocket, where Y/N’s G-string was still tucked safely away. He felt a momentary thrill of panic, wondering if Jace could somehow read his mind, but his best friend’s smirk told him he was still in the clear…for now.

“Look, mate,” Jace said, putting out his cigarette and leaning in with a mock-serious expression. “All I’m saying is, whoever she was, she clearly had a good time. And you…you’ve got the evidence to prove it. But come on, give me something. I’m dying here.”

Cregan laughed, finally slapping Jace’s arm in return. “Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I’ll tell you…someday.”

“Oh, you will,” Jace replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “One way or another, Stark, you will.”

As Cregan leaned back, smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world, he knew this was a situation he’d have to play carefully. Because if Jace ever found out the truth, those love bites on his neck would be the least of his worries.

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Monday arrived like a slap in the face, and Y/N was not ready. Not even a little bit. She sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over her laptop keys, but her mind was a million miles away. She was supposed to be working on some due diligence report, but instead, she was spiraling.

Full-on, out-of-control spiraling.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her fair share of one-night stands before. She was young, single, and sometimes she just needed to blow off steam. But this? This was different. Because it hadn’t been just anyone. It had been Cregan Stark. Her brother’s best friend. The guy Jace had practically tattooed with the words Do Not Touch where she was concerned.

And it wasn’t like she was worried about Jace finding out, not really. She was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. She lied for a living, spun stories into gold, and could argue her way out of anything. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cregan’s face, felt his hands on her, and heard his deep, rumbling laugh in her ear. The memory alone sent her into a panic.

She’d needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t Jace. So, of course, she’d turned to her cousin, Baela Targaryen, who was currently perched on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“You did what?” Baela practically screeched, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

Y/N winced, shooting her a look. “Keep your voice down, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed.

But Baela was having none of it. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her violet eyes wide. “You slept with Cregan fucking Stark?” she repeated, but at least this time she whispered. “Holy shit, Y/N. This is…this is epic.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning. “No, it’s not. It’s a disaster. A full-blown, Jace-will-kill-me disaster.”

“Are you kidding?” Baela snorted, leaning in. “Jace doesn’t have to know. And besides, Cregan’s hot as hell. I mean, have you seen him? Those shoulders? That jawline? And he’s an athlete. A pro skier. The man probably has a body like a fucking Greek god. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because it’s Cregan,” Y/N said, exasperated. “It’s Jace’s best friend. And I’m supposed to be focusing on my career, not getting tangled up with guys I shouldn’t be touching.”

Baela rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re young, hot, and brilliant. You can focus on your career and still have a little fun on the side. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to sleep with their brother’s best friend at some point?”

Y/N gave her a look. “Most people, Baela.”

“Well, most people are boring,” Baela shot back, grinning. “Look, you’ve always been the responsible one. The one with the plan, the one who does everything by the book. Maybe it’s time you let loose a little. And besides…” She leaned in, her grin widening. “How was it?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she hated how easily Baela could do that to her. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I mean, it was…good. Really good. But that’s not the point.”

Baela laughed, her bright, melodic sound echoing through the open office space. “Oh, that’s exactly the point. Come on, Y/N, you’re practically glowing. It must’ve been better than good if you’re this messed up over it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. A one-time thing. It can’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Baela asked, still smiling like a psychopath. “If it was so good, why can’t it happen again?”

“Because…” Y/N started, fumbling for the words. “Because it just can’t, okay? I can’t deal with the drama. And Jace will find out, and then it’ll be this whole big thing, and—“

Baela waved her off. “Jace doesn’t have to know, alright? You’re smart. You can handle it. And who knows? Maybe Cregan’s just the kind of distraction you need right now. Especially with all these dry, boring cases we’re stuck with.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, a distraction is the last thing I need right now. What I need is to keep my head down and avoid any more…complications.”

“Oh, Y/N, you can do that,” Baela teased, nudging her with her elbow. “But where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to be boring. Especially when you’ve got a Stark on your side.”

Y/N shot her a glare, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not helping.”

“And you’re overthinking it,” Baela replied. “Look, you had a wild night with a hot guy. Enjoy it. Don’t spiral. Just…see what happens. You might surprise yourself.”

Y/N wanted to argue, wanted to tell Baela she was wrong, but deep down, she knew her cousin had a point. She was spiraling, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. Maybe Baela was right.

Or maybe she’d end up in even deeper shit. But what’s done is done.

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Cregan slammed the barbell back onto the rack with a grunt, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The gym was quiet on a Monday afternoon, just the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the floor, the hum of the treadmill belts, and the occasional grunt from the other athletes scattered around. It was exactly how he liked it—minimal distractions, just him and the iron.

But today, he couldn’t focus for shit.

He was supposed to be prepping, getting his body in peak condition for the winter season. Autumn was crunch time for a professional skier. Every session counted, every rep, every second shaved off his sprint time mattered. And yet, here he was, barely keeping his head in the game, because all he could think about was Y/N Velaryon.

Fuck, he needed another go.

He dropped down onto the bench, grabbing a towel and rubbing it across his face, trying to clear his thoughts. But it was impossible. His mind kept replaying the brief flashes he remembered from that night—the way she’d looked up at him, her lips parted, her hands pulling him closer, nails digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him.

And the way he couldn’t remember every goddamn detail was driving him insane.

He needed a do-over. A second chance to burn the memory of her into his brain properly this time. The half-forgotten fragments weren’t enough. Not even close. He wanted to remember everything—the way she tasted, the sounds she made, the way she moved against him. He wanted to savor every moment, replay it in his mind during the endless hours of training and competition.

He grabbed a medicine ball, slamming it down against the floor with a force that rattled the nearby weights. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now, not with the season so close. But the harder he tried to focus, the more his thoughts drifted back to her.

To the way she’d looked that morning, rushing out of his flat, her hair a mess, her dress askew, and the small, scrap of lace she’d left behind like a calling card. He felt a grin tug at his lips just thinking about it. Fuck, she’d been gorgeous. And he’d been too smashed to enjoy it properly.

“Get a grip, Stark,” he muttered to himself, slamming the ball down again, trying to burn off some of the frustration coursing through his veins.

But it was no use. No matter how many reps he did, no matter how much weight he lifted, the image of Y/N wouldn’t leave his mind. He remembered the way she’d smirked at him from across the room at that party, the way her eyes had lingered on him just a little too long, like she’d been daring him to make a move.

And, oh, he’d made a move, alright. He just wished he could remember every damn second of it.

He switched to the rowing machine, gripping the handles tightly, and started pulling with quick, powerful strokes. His muscles burned, sweat dripped down his back, but it still wasn’t enough to push her out of his mind.

The problem was, he wanted her again. He wanted to see her, touch her, hear her laugh that low, teasing laugh she had. But this time, he wanted to be fully aware of every single thing he did to her, every little reaction he could coax out of her. He wanted to watch the way her pupils dilated when he touched her, hear the way her breath hitched, see that flash of challenge in her eyes when she bit her lip.

He wanted to remember. All of it.

He needed to see her again, needed to make that happen. But how? It wasn’t like he could just call her up. She was Jace’s sister, for fuck’s sake, and Jace was already poking around, suspicious as hell. No, he’d have to be careful, play it smart. He needed to find a way to get her alone again, away from her brother, away from prying eyes.

The rowing machine beeped, signaling the end of his set, but he barely heard it. His mind was already spinning with possibilities, ideas forming as he wiped the sweat off his face.

Yeah, he’d find a way. There was no way in hell he was letting this go. Y/N Velaryon was under his skin now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get a chance to do things right this time.

Cregan cracked his neck, a determined smile spreading across his face as he headed toward the free weights. He’d figure it out. And when he did, he was going to make damn sure he remembered every single second of it.

[1-victoria-1]

Alastor x Child!Doe! Reader

A/n: the reader in this one will be a female and will be around the age of 4-6. I will also try to write a fic for the male audience, enjoy!

If only your innocent little mind knew how shocked, confused and concerned Charlie, the princess of hell was when she saw you, a child who has freshly arrived to hell and came to her tugging her pants and asking in an innocent voice "miss, can you tell me where i am?".

And oh her grandfather how her heart hurt when you looked at her and those little doe ears on top of your head twitched slightly as you tilted your little head at her, of course she couldn't just leave you here! So she took you with her to her hotel and as she literally flew in through the door of the hotel while holding you like a treasure that she has been trying to find for so long and yelling with excitement, "this little cutie is staying with us from now on!" And held you up like simba for everyone to see you and you just innocently looked at them and still confused on where you were and where your mama was.

Charlie then sat you down on one of the red couches in the hotel lobby when Vaggie told her that she should calm down and let you down.

She of course forgot to ask you for your name so she thought it would be good to start off with an introduction! "Alright sweetie! Let me introduce myself and the others to you! Im charlie, this lady next to me is Vaggie, my girlfriend! Then over there is Angel dust and his our first resident at the hotel, then there's Husk, our wonderful bartender! Sir. Pentious our second resident! And nifty she keeps everything clean here and-!"

She was about to introduce the red deer demon when she noticed he wasn't present in the lobby which meant he either was in his radio tower or in cannibal town but she didn't need long when he popped up.

"Charlie dear, i heard that you're introducing us to a new resident at the hotel, who might it be dear?"

Alastor asked as he looked at Charlie with his usual toothy smile, and your first impression about him was that he was red, like a strawberry! And you loved strawberries!

"Alastor! Right on time, i was introducing us to-! Eh i forgot to ask her name, but anyways i was introducing us to our new resident at the hotel! Darling what might be your name?"

Charlie asked you as she kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the couch and started at the deer demon and then looked at Charlie again. "[Y/n]" you said that innocently and squeaked happily, you really were an innocent little fellow.

'a child..'was the first thing Alastor thought, a child in hell was rare, except for the hellborn children of course, a sinner child was rare and this one looked small and from her look she didn't know where she was or what was happening, and she looked like a doe, maybe it was the reason eht he felt such a pang in his sadistic heart when he saw you, you were a doe, a fawn, his deer parent instincts kicked in.

He walked up to you and looked down at you and you looked at him and he just chuckled through his static voice, "oh what a little darling you are, aren't you? Can you perhaps tell us what you remember as last before you came here?" He asked as he looked at you and you twitched with your doe ears slightly and though and then answered.

"well i remember that papa was mad about something and then told me to take some kind of pills which made me feel dizzy and funny!" I said that and looked at the red man in front of me, and that's when the spider spoke, angel dust was it.

"toots her father drugged her with overdoses, what a filthy man." The spider said that and that's when Charlie literally froze up and Alastor himself felt like slaughtering that pitiful excuse of a father with a slow and painful death and then broadcasting his screams in his radio broadcast, and Charlie's reaction wasn't good either, she was all about second chances and redemption but that filthy human being didnt deserves any of it.

Looks like that was the reason why you were in hell, your father killed you with drugs but heaven saw it as if you had taken them willingly, which actually made Alastor and Charlie more furious, you were a child, and a child had nothing to do in hell!

"don't worry sweetie! Big sister Charlie will take great care of you as well as everyone in this hotel! As we are one big family here!" She said that as she calmed down her anger and picked you up and you giggled, you had a big sister now!

_________________________________________

And from that day on you started to live in the hotel while also being taken care of, Angel of course had to put his sex jokes away whenever you were around otherwise he would get threatening looks from Vaggie and Alastor.

Surprisingly and what no one expected was that you warmed up to Alastor quite quickly, you literally were like glued to him, at first he didn't really approve of it but then he also warned up to you and now you were like a father daughter duo!

You would always accompany him where he went but only in the hotel as he didn't want his innocent little doe daughter to get bad influence from hell and also he didn't want you to get hurt.

He would let you in his radio tower and you would either sit in his lap and draw something with crayons on a paper or color something or sometimes just listen to what your now new papa was doing, well except for times when he did gruesome things, he will always either get you to take your nap time or just leave you with Husk where you would get your favorite juice and usually also draw something of just color things in your coloring book and the show it to alastor afterwards.

He of course has taken you to meet Rosie after all she was your auntie now and it wouldn't be polite not to have you meet her and oh my stars she was just beaming when alastor introduced you both, she was an auntie now to Alastor's (literal) spawn of a daughter, and now she got a little lady to give cute little dresses and skirts! She even got you a mini version of Alastor's outfit and even a self-made little cane! Oh how adorable you looked!

Vaggie was very skeptical of this (and she still is) because well Alastor is the radio demon after all and well she just doesn't trust him and how is she supposed to trust him with a kid!

But even if some (almost all of the hotel staff) were skeptical and also afraid that your innocence might change. Alastor was still a great father, he does your hair even if it comes out sloppy at times but he's proud of his doing and sure his mother would be as well, speaking of his mother, she would have loved you as all the food that Alastor cooks you are receipts of his mother! And lets not forget that he tells you stories of her and how great she was, after all he does want you to admire his mother like he does!

He totally cuddles with you, you can't change my mind.

You are now one of his weaknesses now for sure.

At the meeting with heaven, Charlie didn't only present as a possible sinner for redemption, Angel dust and Sir Pentious, she also showed you, but she also wanted that to be as a show of how unfair heaven is, sending a little child down to hell when they have done absolutely nothing wrong and were drugged to death by their father!

Emily of course being the sweetest being ever was shocked and of course started to doubt heaven only more, and when the talk of extermination came, she was furious, like furious furious, like who is in the right mind to kill souls and at that even innocent children! That's just absurd!

A sweet one was when adam revealed Vaggie's identity and Charlie came back to hell with Vaggie and she was sad, you, their little sunshine, was there to cheer Vaggie up, she was your big sister as well! And the. You went to Charlie with auntie Rosie, and then everything was alright again and you were a happy bubbly mess to your father who was scratching you begging your doe ears, you were just the sweetest.

________________________________________

A/n: that's it for now dear reader, i hope you enjoy this little fic! Should i perhaps make a part two of this? Or maybe a full mini series?Have a wonderful day and stay healthy!

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader

The time has come, babes, this could be the final part

I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

♡♡♡

"I'll see you, Lucifer."

"I hope so."

Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?

Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.

But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.

Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 

3:01PM

"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.

— 

You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.

Speaking of,

"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.

"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.

Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 

"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.

"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.

"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.

"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.

As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.

"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel? 

"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.

"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.

"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.

"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.

"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.

"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.

"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.

After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.

Purple always looked good on you.

"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.

"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.

"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.

"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 

Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.

"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.

"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.

"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.

"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.

"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.

"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.

"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.

"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.

You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.

The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.

You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.

The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.

"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.

Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.

"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.

"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.

Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.

Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.

The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.

Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.

"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.

You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.

"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.

"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.

Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.

Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.

He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.

"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.

"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.

You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.

You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?

"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.

You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.

"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.

His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.

"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?

"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.

"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.

"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.

"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.

"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.

"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.

Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.

Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.

"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.

Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.

Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..

A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.

The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.

Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.

Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.

"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.

"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.

"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.

"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.

What just happened?

"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.

♡♡♡

lmao jk there's more parts coming

( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )

!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee

@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )

[butterflybuckethat]

Stranger Places ✶ Part II

Part I - 🦋 Masterlist 🦋

Notes: Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader; Carmy finds you drunk in the bathroom of The Bear. (1.6k words)

Warnings: Slow burn

You cupped your hands against the glass windows of The Bear. This felt like a never-ending nightmare, as if Dante’s Inferno was set in Chicago, as if the sky had fallen and you were the only one still trapped on Earth. It took all of twenty minutes after you left last night to discover that you had lost your watch, but you couldn’t go back, not when you knew he was still there. You figured now, at 6:30am, was a reasonable time not to run into him.

The restaurant was spotless, no trace of the confetti or glitter you had attempted to dodge on your way out, and completely empty. If you had left literally anything else you owned you probably would have abandoned it but of course it had to be your watch, your most prized possession. So you went around back.

Sleepless nights were not uncommon for Carmy; plagued with recurring nightmares, the exhaustion often felt more tolerable. This was not the reason he didn’t go home last night. He couldn’t get you out of his head. 

He really didn’t know anything about you, not anything he could use to find you. Except for that name, Milly. 

As morally questionable as the White Pages are, they did prove useful. It turned out that there were very few Milly’s in the Chicago area under the age of 80; two, in fact. “Are you still there?” This was one.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” he said, juggling the duct taped landline and his pack of smokes. He had already been stuck in this conversation for fifteen minutes. He didn’t mind listening to her story, he had disrupted her morning after all; that is, until it turned into a pitch for Mary Kay. “I’m not really into makeup.”

“That’s alright sweetie. It has nothing to do with that.”

You froze as you rounded the corner to the back alley, there he was. You watched as he spoke into the phone, lit cigarette in his mouth. Even with the bags under his eyes and mussed hair, he looked great. You could always come back, you supposed, but there was something that pulled you toward him. A sense of familiarity, of attraction.

He nearly dropped the phone when he saw you, barely catching it as his posture straightened. You looked so different from last night in jeans and an oversized sweater. You were beautiful and fresh faced and Carmen felt a strange relief wash over him. You greeted him with a wave and a tight-lipped smile. 

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” he said.

“I lost my watch.” You held up your empty wrist as proof, sleeve pooling at your elbow, and he gestured for you to come inside. “You can finish your phone call.” It took him a second to understand what you meant.

“Oh shit!” A burst of laughter spilled from your lips and it swelled in his chest. “I gotta go,” he spoke into the phone and hung up without waiting for a response.

Carmen ignored the guilt he felt on his hands and knees as he “helped” you search for the watch, acting as if he hadn’t meticulously cleaned every inch of The Bear just a few hours earlier. The watch wasn’t there and he was stalling your journey towards finding it but he just needed more before he could officially let you go. He wanted answers, he told himself, to the convoluted mystery you seemed to be at the center of. That was all.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Why do you need to know it?” 

His curiosity overrode your curt response, “I figure we’re trauma bonded now.”

“I traumatized you?” 

“Well, you certainly made an impression,” he teased, emboldened by the upward twitch of your lips.

You told him your name and he knew he would never forget it. 

You weren’t sure how he convinced you to stay for breakfast. Somewhere between his goofy smile and a twirl of your hair, you agreed. 

You could hear the steady chop of Carmen’s knife as you went to search the restroom. You hesitated at the threshold, dread flooding your system. 

 “Where did you get the name Milly from?” you asked, honestly just looking for a distraction. 

“It was the name your reservation was under.” You jumped, not realizing he was behind you. He must have noticed your apprehension because he wrapped his hand around the crook of your elbow, leading you away. “Your watch isn’t in there,” he confessed, explaining the nightly cleanings. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you sooner…” You analyzed his face, looking for anything malicious or dishonest, but found nothing but open sincerity. “I just- I just didn’t want you to leave yet.” 

Carmy, suddenly feeling very much like an open wound, went to check his quiche. He was almost hoping for a disaster, anything to distract from what a fool he’s been, but it was perfect. “I actually might have found Milly’s number, though!” He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the home phone from where he left it, he peeled up the post-it with the second name, Milly Walker, and began dialing. He could fix this for you. You might not find the watch, but at least he could give you some answers. The phone rang in his ear and he offered you a soft smile, putting it on speaker. 

You were growing increasingly nervous. There was something you weren’t saying. Ring! Ring! It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Carmen because, weirdly enough, you did. It’s just, you left all this behind. Ring! Ring! You could practically hear your therapist's voice asking why you even went out with Mark if that were true. Ring! Ring! Your lips parted. Ring! Ring! “I actually know who she is, Milly.”

“Hello?” You lunged at Carmen, trying to get the phone. You both fell, landline skittering away, batteries popped and rolling in opposite directions. 

“Do you think it hung up?” you whispered. 

“Yeah, I would say so.” His laugh was low and breathy. Butterflies bloomed in your chest at the realization of his proximity. “You’re beautiful,” he said. 

You tentatively touched his chin, trailing your fingers up his jaw. This was all so fast and way too good to be true. “You know nothing about me.”

“I don’t need to.” His voice was hoarse, eyes locked on your lips. You leaned in, prepared to set aside all your hurt and pain for just this one moment, and—

Ring! Ring!

You jumped, startled, away from Carmen and onto the linoleum floor. You stared at the phone, batteries still removed. “It’s alive.”

“We have another one,” Carmen said, amused, helping you stand. You followed him to the second phone, further into the kitchen, next to a bunch a hanging printouts of pastries and movie stills and more. 

You watched Carmen adjust his clothes and his hair as if the person on the other end of the line was going to see him. You giggled, only a little, and he gave you a sheepish smile in return. You didn’t really date anymore, not really, not since Mark. It was just too difficult, the awkward first dates, one night stands that never turned into more, the managing of trust issues… So you decided, no more dating just to date. If you wanted to be with someone then that was who you would be with—that was almost a year and a half ago and no one seemed worthy. But maybe Carmen was. 

Carmy picked up the phone, completely unable to tear his eyes from you. He still couldn’t believe you came back that morning, like that was a sign or something—not that he believed in things like that.

“The Bear. This is Carmen.”

“Ugh, thank god you called back.”

“Is something burning?” You whispered. Carmy furrowed his brows. The quiche!

“I’m sorry, who is this?” He was distracted, rushing to pull his slightly charred quiche Lorraine out of the oven. He covered the receiver, trying to mask your laughter. 

“I spoke to Natalie a couple weeks ago about catering my wedding rehearsal?”

What the hell? Since when did they do  catering? He poked you in the side before running to grab a pen and pad.

“My fiancé loved the pasta course so we were thinking that that could be the main focus, like elevated comfort food.”

“Okay, I made a note of that and will call back to confirm.” He was not going to agree to shit until he talked to Sugar. 

“Oh, don’t you want the date?”

“Uh sure, yeah.”

“It’s in two weeks, on Saturday.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Milly Walker.”

[malarign]

please don’t yell at me

(when you cry after he raised his voice on you)

contains: idolbf!Sunghoon x fem!reader | genre: angst with a fluffy ending | tw! arguing, raising voice, crying, accusing of cheating, kissing (or maybe making out) lmk if i missed anything! | wc: 0,8k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i don’t really have the energy or motivation to post lately, so just enjoy this old draft i wrote a while ago 🫶 i promise the next thing i’ll write will be the heeseung request from a while ago (sorry anon 😅)

In contrast to the ride home, your voices were echoing with anger in your apartment in a heated argument. Having enough of the tension between you two you decided to finally bring up the touchy subject that had been avoided for way too long, which was Sunghoon slowly drifting apart from you.

You tried to understand him for a very long time now; their first tour just ended, and they still had lots of work to prepare for their new album and comeback. It had been weeks if not months since you actually felt close to him for more time than that one date he took you on during this time. But you didn’t want dates, you didn’t expect anything big knowing how much work he had, all you asked was just a little bit of his attention and affection. Yet he seemed so preoccupied with his work he couldn’t spare you at least one hug that lasted longer than half a minute. And when he brushed your hand off of his shoulder when you tried to hug him after his dance practice you just snapped, not minding 6 other pairs of eyes that watched the scene with horror in them.

And here you were arguing like you never did before in your long-term relationship.

“You really had to make a scene next to the guys, right? Who are you, a baby? Everything has to revolve around you, y/n?” Sunghoon asked highly irritated, after slamming the front door behind him.

“Revolve around me? You can’t be serious.” You raised your eyebrows at his words in pure shock. “Sunghoon how can anything revolve around me when you literally don’t spare me any of your attention?”

“Oh please, you’re going overboard about it.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes and watched with his arms crossed as you paced the floor.

“No, I’m not! I can’t even remember when you genuinely hugged or kissed me. I can’t remember when was the last time I felt loved by you! All you do is go to work, come home late, and leave for work again. Sometimes I doubt you still love me, because all you love is your work, or maybe you love somebody new?” you asked, not knowing how your words wounded his sensibilities.

“Enough!” Sunghoon burst out. He didn’t realize how the impact and volume of his voice affected you. All he saw was how your eyes slowly disappeared under thick tears that now cascaded down your cheeks. His expression softened and his lips parted in shock at the sight. It happened. His worst nightmare happened. He made you cry and didn’t know how to fix this situation. He froze as he stood when he raised his voice and watched as you turn around and close the bathroom door behind you.

You slid down on the floor and sobbed your heart out. Feeling pathetic you thought of all those years of your beautiful relationship full of love and communication and what it had become. For the last months, you were nothing like the couple everybody envied. Now it was you who envied yourself from a year ago.

Does it mean he really found somebody new? Were you really going overboard with this situation? And maybe you were selfish for not helping him while he worked hard for his and his bandmate’s future.

Your train of thought was stopped when the bathroom door opened revealing Sunghoon. He hunkered down next to you and you looked at him. His eyes were just as puffy as yours, filled with regret and love. He hesitantly opened his arms inviting you into his embrace. You hugged him tightly and sobbed uncontrollably, choking out quietly: “Please don’t yell at me”.

Your words and tone broke his heart, the thought of you being scared of him crossing his mind. He brushed it off and left a long kiss on your forehead to soothe your pain.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I will never raise my voice at you again. I promise.”

Both of you cried on the cold bathroom floor until he pulled away and dried up your cheeks. He looked you in the eyes seeing a glimpse of a smile in their corners.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating. And I’m sorry in general. I know how hard you work,” you admitted taking his hands in yours.

“No, love, just because I work hard doesn’t give me the authority to be an asshole to my girlfriend. I’m sorry for pushing you away and distancing from you,” Sunghoon rubbed his thumbs on the palms of your hands as he spoke.

You raised your hand and cupped his cheek, smiling as he melted at the feeling of your touch. You leaned in to give him a short peck on his lips but landed on his lap when he pulled you closer by the waist, plunging into a tears-salty and heated kiss. Both of you needed that kind of intimacy, hands wandering on your bodies searching for that one spot. You pulled away, to take a breath and he whined at the loss of contact.

“Sunghoon,” you called out his name drawing his attention. He looked at you, eyes opened wide waiting for what you wanted to tell him. “Let’s not argue again. Like ever.”

He smiled coming closer to you, lips brushing your skin as he whispered: “Of course, my love.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

[holllandtrash]

long live | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (epilogue to fragile line)

long live the walls we crashed through i had the time of my life with you long, long live the walls we crashed through how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

time passes and feelings may fade, but the memories never will word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: time jumps like always, angst and heartbreak but it's not all sad this time, or is it?

four years later

“Daniel Ricciardo, 2025 Formula 1 World Champion, The Honey Badger,” James Hinchcliffe put his arm around the fellow commentator, “Tell us what you know.”

“What I know, Hinch,” Daniel repeated, taking a dramatic look up towards the clear sky. “What do I know?”

They didn’t need to act like they were friends for the camera, James and Daniel had grown close in a short time, ever since Daniel put down the helmet and picked up a microphone, Replacing the racing overalls with a suit and tie. He had the personality to be a motorsports commentator. No one was surprised when he was announced as Sky Sports newest reporter following his Formula 1 retirement. 

And James, a fellow retired driver himself from the IndyCar side, a Canadian with the humour and the banter that could keep up with Daniel, they were truly one of the best duos when it came to motorsports broadcasting.

They weren't often together, though. Daniel stuck to Formula 1. James was a regular for IndyCar. There were only a handful of races where they came together and the Indianapolis 500 was one of them. 

They were a comedic duo last year at the 2026 running, it only made sense to bring Daniel back again this year.

“Who’s your money on?” James asked. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started he had an answer. 

But he hesitated. 

Or, maybe froze was a better word. Daniel froze when he dropped his gaze from the sky and looked further down the pit lane. They didn’t plan on standing a few slots away from the number 6 car of Arrow McLaren, but that's where they found themselves.

Daniel froze when he spotted the familiar face sitting on the bench in the pit wall, looking at the data on the screens and nodding along with the engineer as he spoke. Daniel froze, because even though he knew exactly who was driving that car, he still wasn’t prepared for what he would do when he saw the driver.

When he saw you. 

You guys had agreed, long ago, that there would be no more interactions. That your careers, your lives, would be better if the other stayed as far away as possible.

Daniel knew that even now, four years later, he had no right to talk to you, to talk about you. He knew that at this point, it was for the best that ties were still cut, that the conversations didn’t happen. It had been over a year since your last interaction, he was in no position to change that. 

And he tried, desperately, over the years to follow the rules you agreed on. You as well kept your distance, you had to. 

But you were only human. There had been a few slip ups over the years.

For the remainder of the season, after the Austin race, you both had stuck to your word. You stopped giving the world the moments they were waiting for. You refused to interact with each other, you forced yourself to stop caring. 

It grew easier with time. The 2024 season was challenging in itself, but with Max and Daniel fighting amongst each other in a league of their own, you knew you couldn’t fight them in a McLaren. All you could do was make the most of what you had. 

Lando and you had a strong opening those first few races. McLaren was third in the constructors for a short time until other teams started to catch up, filling in the holes of their designs. 

You quite literally didn’t have time to care about Daniel when you were so focused on the rest of the grid, your actual competition. Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston Martin even. Your upgrades were no match with theirs and by the end of the season, it was disappointing to look back without a podium to reminisce on. Lando scored two, one in Spa, the other in Singapore. You did well, but not well enough to bring home a trophy.

2025 was…different.

In many ways. Firstly, the McLarens showed consistency as the season continued. You and Lando were always top contenders for points.  

Secondly, Daniel was giving Max a run for his money. He had a bit the year prior, but this season was far more competitive. You, like everyone else, was dying to see who would pull through and score that first place trophy at the end of the day, but you had to hide your desires for it to be Daniel. 

You still hadn’t spoken. You had successfully veered away from any accidental interactions. His name stayed out of your mouth and at this point, everyone on the grid knew there was a disconnect. You both had gone out of your way, this year and in 2024, to assure there would be no media appearances together, no driver conferences, nothing that the online world could twist. 

But you couldn’t do anything about still being happy for him. That would never go away. You would always want Daniel to succeed. You just couldn’t be watching the screens when he podiumed. You couldn’t go out with him and the others to celebrate. You couldn’t wish him a congrats in passing like Lando could if you were walking down the paddock. 

Daniel felt the same. While the love was gone, there was nothing he could do about those proud moments. He wanted you to make a name in this sport, to make history. He wanted you to be someone and even though he once wanted to be at your side while you planted your roots, he couldn’t.

Except that one time when he physically was at your side. 

There was a mistake in the media pen scheduling on that Thursday in Miami. From what you knew, Daniel was supposed to be in the press conference and you’d be one of the ten unlucky few that had to stand under the Miami sun in the football field, talking about how you were looking forward to this race when in reality you personally thought this was the worst race on the calendar. 

But it was too hot to complain about anything other than the heat and how you needed to change shirts as soon as the media pen segment was over because the breathable material of your papaya polo was anything but breathable.

You had barely stepped into the roped off circle to join the other drivers when you heard your name being called. Glancing over your shoulder, it took a second to realise that the call was coming from a young girl running in your direction. Her paddock lanyard flailing over her shoulder as she sprinted, one hand held onto her McLaren hat so it wouldn’t fall off.

“She can’t be here-”

“Piss off, she’s fine,” you weren’t even sure who you interrupted, but you didn’t give the risk of a reprending a second thought as you stepped forward to meet the young fan.

She was small, and you weren’t a professional when it came to guessing the ages of kids but you would put her somewhere in the range of six and eight. Maybe?

You knelt down to be more at eye level, “Hi darling, what’s your name?”

“Cara,” she answered, slightly out of breath. There was a gap in her teeth from where she must have just lost one, but it didn’t affect her grin at all. 

“Hi Cara,” you smiled at her, only then noticing she wore a shirt with your last name on it. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw an older gentleman running towards her. “Is that your dad?”

Cara looked and then nodded, but she didn’t care that she had completely abandoned him and given him a heart attack. “I saw you last year here. You finished fifth, my dad took me to watch. He says you- he says that you’re the only girl driver.”

“I am the only girl driver,” you confirmed, pouting slightly. You brushed your hand over her shoulder to smooth out the material of the shirt, “That should change soon, don’t you think? All of these boys need to be put in their place and I can’t do it alone.”

“I can join,” Cara suggested. The carefree optimism was a rare sight at one of these race weekends, but you admired it in Cara. She was too young to know the difficulties of being a female in this field and hopefully by the time she grew up, there were less walls for her to climb over, just doors to open. 

“You can join,” you nodded at the idea, laughing slightly, mostly because her dad had caught up to her and he was more out of breath than she saw. You smiled at him but looked back at Cara, “Do you race?”

“Yes!”

“No,” her dad answered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, at least. We’ve signed her up for karting this summer, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I can already tell you’ll be a natural,” you told Cara. Watching her face light up was probably the most rewarding feeling you’d get all weekend. 

“I want to be like you. I want to win races, I want to win a championship!”

“You know what Cara, I can’t break every record, being the first girl driver. So I’ll save the championship one for you, how about that? I want to see you become the first girl to win the championship.” You gave her arm a squeeze and then stood up, turning your focus to her dad. 

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and although you couldn’t make assumptions that he was single, the greying hair at a fairly young age and the bags under his eyes told you that he was mostly likely the main caretaker for Cara. 

“She’s got dreams,” you said.

He nodded, but smiled proudly, “That she does.”

You didn’t want to speak negatively about this industry in front of Cara, you didn’t want to crush her dreams, but you also didn't want her to grow up and be hopelessly disappointed either.

“It’s not easy for girls in this sport,” you told him. “But if she’s serious, if both of you are, look into working with Mary from Victory Speedway, located out in Tampa. She’s got contacts with F1 Academy as well. They’re goal is to make it easier.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “And thank you for talking with Cara. Both of us are big fans, you truly are inspiring.”

You chatted for a bit longer, ignoring Oliver who was at your side reminding you that you had media duties. They could wait. A photo with the girl that seemed to be your biggest fan and maybe one day your predecessor, couldn’t wait.

No one really heard what you spoke about, the other drivers had their own obligations in the media pen. 

Daniel, though, he listened. 

He was standing right near the entrance when Cara had run up. He had watched you bend down to chat with her, making her a priority opposed to the reporters. He was less than two feet away as he overheard your conversation and when you turned around, ready to get the media day over with, you met his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t look away.

Daniel wanted to tell you he admired that conversation, the hope you installed in the young fan. He wanted to tell you that you made a great role model, for not just girls but all aspiring drivers. He wanted to say a lot of things to you.

He settled on a question, “You’re not trying to win the championship?”

This was the first time you had spoken in months and it wasn’t even in private. It was quite literally in front of cameras, reporters, people with audio recording devices and microphones. You opened your mouth slightly only to lock up, giving him an apologetic look because you both knew better than to be having any sort of interaction. 

You turned to face the first reporter, ignoring Daniel’s question completely. He just nodded to himself and walked to his own spot, keeping you in the corner of his eye. 

This young reporter, though, was also curious, having overheard what Daniel asked. 

“You’re not vying for a championship? Does Zak Brown know this?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged and gave him a smile, “I mean, every driver's dream is the championship, but it’s not my goal currently. Your goals can, and should, be different than your dreams. And yes, Zak knows this, don’t you worry.”

“Your goal then, what is it?”

You inhaled, thinking to yourself for a second, “I’ve got a few and I have a good team supporting me while I work towards them. First would be to make as much history as I can, set as many records while I have a spot in Formula 1 and then I want to help other female drivers break them.”

“You want your records to be broken?”

“If it means getting more females into Formula 1, then yes.”

Daniel, who was in the middle of trying to listen to the reporter in front of him, smiled as he heard that. It was a very you response. He leaned forward, gripping the railing a bit because he completely misheard his own question and needed him to repeat it.

“And your other goal?” The young reporter asked you. 

Your lips curved into more of a devious smile, deciding to keep that one close to your chest. “Do you have any questions about the race this weekend? Or are you trying to write a biography on my life?”

Daniel was dying to know what it was too. He spent the rest of that media session racking through the memories of you, there were a lot, trying to think if you ever had that conversation. You must have, right? So why couldn’t he remember?

When all of you made your way out and back to the paddock, Daniel ignored the voice in his head telling him to just let it go. He completely drowned it out as he jogged up to your side, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand over your elbow to grab your attention. Instead he just said, 

“Hey.”

You glanced up, instinctively stepping to the side as you walked to put more space between your bodies. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, pulling your eyes off of him and on the Red Bull motorhome that was coming up. This conversation would be short, he’d have to go back inside. You’d be fine for ten seconds, right?

“So what-” he cleared his throat. This shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. After so long of not even glancing at each other, there were new lines painted between you. Daniel didn’t know how to navigate them, and honestly, neither did you.

“Triple Crown, Dan,” you answered, knowing that's where he was going when he opened his mouth. 

The Triple Crown. Monaco. Indy 500. 24 Hours of Le Mans. 

He took a second to process that goal, not having expected it in the slightest. When he nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes, only there was less pain and more distance. He didn’t know you like he thought he did.

“I never knew you were aiming for the Triple Crown.”

“You never asked.”

He had trained you, helped you become the best athlete you could be. He had introduced you to the right people. He acted as a mentor, but the conversations you had about racing were limited. There was a lack of communication in that sense because why bring work home with you? 

But that was the wedge driven between you. Had you talked about racing, contracts, your futures, you would have never found yourself in that McLaren contract scandal that ultimately broke you two up. 

He nodded, because what else could he say to that? You gave him a soft smile and told yourself to keep walking, to move to the other side of the paddock as Daniel headed into the Red Bull motorhome. 

You don’t interact again until Monaco. Daniel now knew winning this race meant more to you than others. Winning this would be one third of the Triple Crown checked off and as much as he was gunning for the podium, thankful for his P2 starting position, he saw that you were starting fourth and took a breath of relief. You had a shot.

Daniel wasn’t sure what came over him when he saw you in the paddock after qualifying. Maybe it was because you not completely shutting him down in Miami gave him a strange surge of confidence to approach you again, or maybe it was because he was ignoring all the voices in his head to just keep walking. Whatever it was, Daniel saw you chatting with a member of Sky Sports and as he walked passed, patted your shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

You paused whatever it was you were saying and turned in his direction, just in time to see him give you a smile and a thumbs up as he continued on his way. You returned it, but that small interaction had you stumbling over your words for the next two hours. 

Not because you were smitten, you were past that. You didn’t look at Daniel anymore and lose your train of thought, you didn’t get lost in a daze and allow everything else to fade around you.

But he didn’t seem to let go of you completely yet, and you could work with that. You could be civil. You could be neutral during race weekends, as long as it didn’t go further than the friendly smiles and minimal chats.

It shouldn’t have been hard to keep the conversations short, you hadn’t actually had anything meaningful to say to each other in over a year. When you ran into him after the race on Sunday, after he claimed the title of Monaco Grand Prix race winner for a second time, you should have just said congratulations and kept walking.

But Daniel saw you as he was propped up against the side of the Red Bull motorhome and then he stood up straighter, almost inviting you to walk up to him. There were no cameras around anymore, the majority of the paddock had gone home so you felt safer, sort of. If the world hadn’t lost their minds at the clip of him patting your back yesterday, you could talk to him now.

The Red Bull engineer he was with said his goodbyes and smiled politely at you as you approached, stopping at a safe distance.

“Another Monaco win under your belt.”

“So it seems,” Daniel tried his best to not look too proud of himself. You could see his dimples poking through. You wanted him to not be holding back, you missed his grin but gone were the days when he didn’t have to refrain with you. 

“You deserve it,” you nodded, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. You were scared of any stragglers with iPhones, but no one around seemed to care that you and Daniel were talking. You were drivers, it shouldn’t have been a strange sight.

“You deserve it,” Daniel playfully shot back. “I mean, I couldn’t just hand it over this year though, despite your Triple Crown goal.”

“Oh but next year? You’ll let me have it then?” You asked, eyebrows raised. It was a joke, a small tease, but Daniel’s smile slipped and you caught it. You caught it and you stepped forward, hand flinching because it would be moments like this where you’d want to reach for him but you couldn’t do that anymore, could you?

Daniel tensed. Now it was his turn to look anxiously around, “I might not-” a sharp inhale passed through his lips, “Yeah I might not be here next year.”

You scoffed because that idea was preposterous, “Oh shut up.”

“No it’s true,” Daniel said, but his smile told you that he wasn’t sad about it. “You know how your goal is the Triple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Mine’s the championship, sweets.”

You weren’t given an opportunity to react to the nickname because he continued on explaining without missing a beat. Either he didn’t see the way saying sweets affected you or he didn’t even notice he said it because even after all this time, it still came naturally to him. 

“There’s a clause in my contract,” he said. “If I win the championship this year, we can renegotiate. I can leave, I can- I can retire. The way I want to.”

You didn’t know how to process this. 

Daniel belonged in Formula 1. He fought so hard for his seat, he was a mess when he was left without one and now there was a chance he’d be gone? 

And even though you were only eight races in, already he was leading the driver standings over Max, not by much, but he was. There was a strong possibility Daniel could take the championship home at the end of the season.

You couldn’t say what was on your mind. You couldn’t say, selfishly, I hope you lose the championship. You couldn’t say that it was impossible to imagine the paddock without him because even those few months when he wasn’t racing, he was still there. 

“We’ve still got a few months to go,” Daniel’s voice broke you from your thoughts, trying to move to a brighter note because that’s just who he was. “But this could be good for you. You’ll have a real shot at winning Monaco next year. But I mean- you technically already won Monaco.”

“That was F2.”

“I think it still counts.”

“I think I’ll win it again, just to be safe.”

Daniel liked that response, he liked how confident you were that the win was coming. He nodded and he really would have liked to talk to you more about this, about his potential leave, about your success, but when he was called from across the paddock you didn’t hesitate before saying goodbye. The conversation was long enough.

Things seemed lighter between you after that. 

You didn’t stop yourself from being visibly happy when he was doing well. You laughed if you overheard the stupid shit he said in the paddock. You didn’t make a big deal about it when you two were signed up for the same press conference session. Granted, you still sat on complete opposite ends of the couch, but you sat there with a smile because you liked hearing Daniel talk about the lead he still carried in the standings.

Spa was the turning point for you two.

While you hadn’t taken any more steps beyond paddock conversations and friendly interactions, what was Daniel supposed to do when you both ended up on the podium together? Him on top, claiming first, you right next to him on the second step?

You both held back when you climbed out of the cars. He opted for a friendly pat on the back even though he wanted nothing more than to bring you in for an embrace. You had podiumed once already this season, but not with Daniel. You stood between the two Mercedes drivers back in Austria but now you were there, with Daniel at your side, both of you beaming. 

You were proud of yourselves. You were proud of each other. 

Both of you had dreamt of this moment, standing next to each other on the podium. You still remembered that conversation years ago, trying to imagine what it would be like to hear the cheers for both of you.

‘You’ll have to do a shoey.’

‘Only if you win. I’m not doing one if I win.’

You had shared this dream when you were in love and even though that wasn’t the case anymore, the dream was still very much alive. Because of that, it almost didn’t feel right. 

It felt sort of unfulfilling, despite you being handed a heavy trophy. 

But this was a moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. All of your accomplishments were held very close to your heart but this one meant more than you could put into words. 

Hands shaking, crowd going wild, you were on top of the world and you were standing next to the man you used to be in love with. You glanced to the side to watch him, not able to stop yourself from smiling wide and then wider still as he held his head high like a hero. 

Daniel was larger than life. 

He always would be. 

You tried not to let yourself think that this might be the only chance you’d get to stand here with him. This win only pushed him further ahead in the championship and you were, seemingly, the only one who knew this year would be his last if he ended up winning. 

You had to hold onto this moment. It wouldn’t come again. 

To everyone watching at home, this was the start of a new age with you and Daniel. Fans could see the way you two interacted, the sheer joy you had for each other, something they hadn’t seen since you still raced in F2. 

To you, this was the beginning of the end. 

Finally, you and Daniel were getting to a place where things could be good and in a few short months, he’d be gone.

You couldn’t think about it more, not when you felt champagne being sprayed in your direction. You were late to the game and popped yours after Daniel and Max had, but you still joined in with the celebration. 

You laughed when Daniel took his shoe off and poured some of the bubbly liquid into the sole. He laughed when you refused to drink it, both of you ignoring the fact that if you were still in love, if you were still together, you would have done the shoey with him. 

Daniel was content with the nod. He knew you were happy for him, the same way he was happy for you. But neither of you could show it the way you wanted to. 

The championship win was decided at the second last race of the season, Qatar.

You didn’t have a good weekend, and you knew this. You took responsibility for the poor qualifying, the bad performance, for all of it. But you were distracted, unable to keep yourself from thinking about Daniel because if he won this race, he won it all. 

And then he’d walk away.

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Daniel take home the win but selfishly, you wanted him in Formula 1. You always wanted him in Formula 1. 

So when he crossed that line, ahead of Max, ahead of the rest of the grid, when he did celebratory donuts and stood on the podium with his chin held high, you stood on the sidelines and ignored how you used to wish for a day like this, wished for a day where he would be crowned the Championship Winner.

Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. 

It had a nice ring to it. 

That’s what you told him that night when you were out at dinner and saw him sitting with a few members from his team just a few feet away. You weren’t surprised to see him at the establishment, it was exclusive, it was way overpriced and it was where many drivers went prior to going out and partying. 

You avoided his eyes that evening, scared that if you’d meet them you’d be forced to accept the reality that he really was leaving. At least, you know, if you didn’t look at him, you could live in your own little world where he wasn’t gone just yet.

You were genuinely annoyed when you bumped into him after leaving the toilets. The hall was dim, narrow and there was quite literally nowhere for you to go when he turned the corner and stopped walking when he saw you. 

“Hi,” you swallowed, anxiously smoothing out the skirt you wore, even more anxiously trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” Daniel slid his hands into his pockets. His Enchante shirt clung to his skin due to the heat, but you told yourself you weren’t allowed to look at the way his little curls stuck to his forehead. 

“You, um-” you held your hand out. “Congratulations, really. Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

When he leaned against the wall, you realised you were stuck. There was no getting out of this conversation. No escaping this reality. 

It didn’t help that the rest of the dining room faded behind him. The people, the sounds, the light, it was just Daniel. 

Just Daniel and just you.

How it always should have been.

How it would never be again.

You opened your mouth, intent on saying something else about his win but all that came out was a shaky breath and a choked back sob that triggered the tears you didn’t even know were building. It was quiet, but it was desperate and it was painful and Daniel didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your cries were muffled against his shirt and Daniel stroked your back and then your hair, holding you tight against him.

You were happy for him, really. If anyone deserved this win, it was him but god you were devastated because up until now, you didn’t realise you still held this much love for him. Up until now, you didn’t realise that even after everything, you still needed him.

You needed him.

“What am I going to do without you on the grid?” You asked, your voice was already quiet but it was even more so muffled as you spoke directly into his body.

Daniel chuckled, it vibrated through his chest. “What you’ve been doing this whole time, sweets. You’ll make history. You’ll put the rest of the guys in their places. You’ll be the driver I know you to be.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a few minutes actually, of just standing there and crying into his chest until you snapped out of it. You weren’t dating anymore, your conversations now didn’t last longer than five minutes, it was embarrassing to be losing it in front of him, because of him.

You stepped back and wiped your eyes, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- I just-”

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he breathed out. 

You nodded, because if you tried to say anything else you would be crying again. Daniel held his finger up and walked into the toilets to grab some tissue for you. It took another minute for you to be able to trust your voice again.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” you dabbed at your cheeks, knowing you’d have to go back to the hotel to fix your make up before going out again. 

“I’ve got things lined up,” Daniel shrugged.

“Care to share?”

He tried to hide his smile and failed miserably, “Just don’t be surprised if I show up at the track next year with a microphone instead of a helmet.”

That was about as much he would say as his deal with Sky Sports wasn’t yet official. 

But now you felt more like an idiot for crying about him leaving if he wasn’t even actually leaving. You’d still see him. He’d still be around. You could work with that.

Daniel could still be proud of your accomplishments, even if he was on the sidelines. 

He was, however, a little conflicted when you won the last race of the 2025 season.

You made history in Abu Dhabi. The first female driver to win a race. This was a wall you had spent years trying to crash through and now there you were. On top of the podium, on top of the world as confetti fell to the ground around you, champagne sprayed in all directions. 

This was your moment.

Your win, your first win and all you wanted was Daniel up on that podium with you. As happy as you were to celebrate with Max and George, you couldn’t deny something was missing. 

Because you really could never cut yourself off from Daniel completely, could you? You could try, you could attempt to distance yourself, you could stop the interactions and you could tell yourself you didn’t care but you were right that day you told Lando that Daniel was your missing piece.

So it made sense that you were at a bit of a loss for words when he showed up at your hotel room that next morning. 

You invited him in, despite being slightly hungover. He didn’t care that your clothes were spread all throughout the room, but he did smile at the sight of your trophy on proud display on the table before you had to give it to your engineer for safe travels.

“So this is it,” you sighed, sitting down on the far side of the couch. Daniel sat down as well, the opposite side, arm stretched along the back of it.

“This is it,” he agreed. 

“When does the news drop?”

He clicked his tongue, “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Not sure,” he scratched the stubble along his jaw. “My guess is Lawson or possibly Palou.”

You sat in silence for a while, thankful that it wasn’t uncomfortable because it easily could have been. 

But you both grew this season.

You could both admit now, being in love and being drivers was an unattainable dream.

But you could be drivers and you could still have love for each other. 

You reached across the couch, a gentle smirk playing on your lips as you nudged his arm, “So what are you going to say about me?”

Daniel dipped his head back and laughed, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you shrugged. “Like when you talk about us drivers on Sky Sports. What are you going to say about me?”

“I’m going to say that not only did you steal my seat, but you stole the glory of my last race by winning.”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the sarcasm but you were thankful his words weren’t malicious anymore, “I thought we were past this. I didn’t steal your seat, Dan.”

“No, but I don’t think I can joke about it on air so this is my last chance.”

You reached behind you and grabbed one of the throw pillows, smacking it against his chest. You chose to look at this playfully, instead of it as the inevitable end. 

And Daniel needed a second to think about your question anyway, so the joke was just a way to stall. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t already thought about it considering you were on his mind more than you should have been. 

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the couch cushion. You could see that he was struggling to come up with a good response and you didn’t mean for this. You didn’t want him to think he had to choose his words carefully. 

“Hey,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, “Promise me something.”

You met his eyes, his dark brown eyes that once had such a strong hold over you. You looked at him and remembered why you fell in love with him in the first place. In this moment, it was hard to remember why you ever wanted to stop loving him.

Had you stopped loving him? Did that day really come?

You could have love for someone and not be in love with him anymore, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself in a position where you had to differentiate between the two. You thought, you knew, you would always be in love with Daniel that to sit here and think that maybe, possibly, you didn’t anymore, felt like a betrayal. 

He was supposed to be the one that stood by you through it all. The good, the bad, the wins, the losses. It wasn’t supposed to end with you two sitting on the couch and admitting that this truly was over. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but you always knew it would. 

Fate stepped in and whether you liked it or not, it was forcing you into a goodbye, into an acceptance that your lives would no longer be intertwined, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. 

“Anything,” Daniel spoke softly. Maybe one day he would have said, I’d promise you the world, if you asked, but that seemed a little too forward for the moment.

“Be honest, Dan,” you told him, your hand finding his over the edge of the couch. Your thumb brushed against his fingers and both of you fought the urge to just connect them further. “Tell them my name, but tell them how I got to Formula 1. Tell them it was you, that you helped me pave the way, that you helped me make a name in this sport. Don’t just point to the pictures of me, point to the ones of us. Now that you’re done with racing, I don’t care about the assumptions, the rumours, any of it. Tell people how it really was you and I, how we were the team that should have been, that never was, please,  because even though I know-” 

You paused, taking a second to swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You glanced at your hand and maybe it was you or maybe it was him, but your fingers started to interlock. Your eyes stayed glued to the touch as your last admittance filled the air between you.

“I know I could have made it to Formula 1 without you, but I can’t put into words how thankful I am that I didn’t have to.”

Daniel nodded, because he agreed with you. He knew you could have gotten here without him but he too was grateful he was by your side for the start of it. He agreed that you two really were the team that never was but should have been. He nodded and agreed that he would say all of those things.

But you knew that he wouldn’t.

Those words were for him, not the rest of the world. 

He would tell people that you shined on top of the podium. He would say that the crowds went wild, louder for you than any other driver.

And he would never say that he had any part of shaping your career. Despite you knowing he did, despite the whole world knowing he played a detrimental part, Daniel didn’t hold onto those connections when you went on to race in 2026 and he stood in the commentators box. 

He stayed neutral, surprisingly. 

It helped that he didn’t interact with many drivers or if he did, it was never you. He did talk about you, but only about your performance on the track. His colleagues knew not to bring up your past, not when the only thing that mattered was how well you were doing in the present.

He had some thoughts when you announced you were making the switch to IndyCar at the end of this season, but mostly because you made that announcement before the Monaco Grand Prix, before you claimed the win you were chasing, before you could check off one third of the Triple Crown.

He wanted to pull you aside and question why you were making this choice but he couldn’t. He also couldn’t call you out publicly on air like other reporters had. 

All he could do was hold his breath after you qualified P2 in Monaco. He sat on the edge of his seat, struggling to do his job, struggling to commentate on the race because the second you made the move to overtake Max and it worked, Daniel had to leave the room. 

He had to leave because he knew that if you kept the lead, if you won, he couldn’t celebrate the way he wanted to with cameras on him. Instead, he watched from the privacy of a separate media suite. The broadcast was a few seconds delayed but at least he was able to cheer and be visibly proud of you and not have to hold back when you crossed the line ahead of Max.

You won the Monaco Grand Prix, in a McLaren of all cars, and now he knew what you were gunning for next.

The Indy 500. 

Signing that Arrow McLaren deal ended up being the right move after all.

“Who’s your money on?” James Hinchcliffe asked him as they stood on the pit lane where the teams were preparing for the greatest spectacle in racing. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started, he had an answer. Despite knowing you were still far from winning the Indy 500, his money would always be on you. 

You looked up from where you sat on the Arrow McLaren bench and you smiled at him.

You were having a pretty good season, for a rookie. With O’Ward and Rossi as your teammates, you knew you couldn’t compare, but they were good people to have on your team, in your corner. They helped you, guided you through the shift from Formula 1 to Indy and you could be proud that in a grid of 26 drivers, you were 11th in the standings. 

“Not betting on anyone, James,” Daniel answered, but his eyes were still locked on you and his smirk said otherwise. “It’ll be a good race.”

He could say your name, he wanted to. But Daniel stayed as far away from your life as he could because you decided on it a long time ago and nothing that happened since told him that you’d be going back on that decision, that you wanted him back in your life.

He might not have been a driver anymore, but you still were. So he was content with being civil, neutral. He was fine with the friendly smiles and if an old photo of the two of you circulated every now and again, well, he didn’t hate it. 

He sat with the rest of the Indy commentators during the race. He shared his honest opinions throughout and he, along with the other reporters, praised Alexander Rossi for taking home his second Indy 500 victory, eleven years after his first. 

But that was not the Arrow McLaren driver he wished was celebrating in Victory Lane.

Daniel waited until his job was done, but he knew he had to find you before the day ended. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing twelfth. That was something he was proud of and he hoped you were as well. 

It would only go up from there. The Indy 500 was still an achievable goal. 

He found you in the paddock. It wasn’t hard. You stood out, even in the crowd of people. He waited off to the side and watched you take photos with young girls, young fans that resembled that one girl in Miami, all of them looking up to you and thanking you for paving the way for them, for other females in motorsport.

It was by chance that you looked over your shoulder and saw Daniel standing there. He nodded, wordlessly assuring you that he could wait, to take your time with the fans. 

He ended up waiting almost fifteen minutes. 

Eventually, you started to approach him. Daniel stood up straighter, having been leaning against the Penske trailers until you were done. You still had your racing overalls on, but unzipped and hanging loosely on your hips. The black fireproofs under the papaya looked good on you, but Daniel hadn’t let himself appreciate your appearance for years, he couldn’t start now, even if he really wanted to.

“Hey,” you called out when you were only a few steps away.

“Hey yourself,” Daniel chuckled. When you finally stood in front of him, he was sort of expecting to see a sliver of defeat, but you were happy. You may not have won the 500, but you had a good run and there was always next year. Plus, you still had the rest of the season to finish. The season wasn’t over, you could still make history in this sport. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around, jaw clenched until you finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes. 

“So,” you inhaled a breath. “You’ve got some time on your hands now that you’re retired, right?”

Daniel wasn’t sure where this was going but he laughed and nodded, “Somewhat, yes, but I do still work race weekends.”

“But Monday through Wednesday?”

He pondered it for a second, just for dramatic effect. “I’m fairly open.”

You nodded, hoping for that answer. 

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a conversation you wanted to have with Daniel since he announced his retirement almost two years ago, you just never knew what the outcome would be.

You felt a bit safer now, knowing that he was based out of the UK and your races were only North American. If he hated where you were going with this, well, it was rare you’d be crossing paths so soon afterwards. 

You just had to blurt it out.

“Ever thought about being a trainer?” You asked. “Or a manager? Mentor even? You know- my last mentor walked out on me-”

Daniel cut you off with a booming laugh, “Walked out? Really? Is that what you tell people?”

Him playing along with your humour felt like a weight off your shoulders, “Only if they ask.”

Daniel, finally, didn’t have to refrain himself anymore. He felt confident enough to drape his arm over your shoulders and walk with you down the paddock. For once, he didn’t care if people looked or recorded and secretly, he hoped they did. 

All he wanted was to be at your side. All he wanted was for the world to know he was proud of you, that, if you asked, he’d be back in your corner.

And you were asking.

“So you need a mentor?” He repeated. “A trainer?”

Your hand slipped around his waist. It was natural, comforting, right.

“Well, I need to win the 500 eventually and then I need to get into Le Mans. I can’t do it alone.”

Daniel looked at you, wearing that stupid grin you missed so much even if you had memorised it the first day you met. You missed him, despite hearing his voice on the broadcasts and seeing him in the paddock. You missed him, he was your missing piece after all.

Daniel looked at you, and you knew, you weren’t alone.

__________________

the end ♡

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora @simple-soul-searcher

for some reason im struggling to add people to the taglist, i deeply apologise

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 18

We are really getting down to the end now. But there are so many twists and turns coming and I'm excited for you to see them all.

In this Jason is stupid, Tommy is late, and Billy is not what he seems.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

~

Tommy couldn’t wait until he turned eighteen. Then he could finally dispense with the fucking pretense of being Steve Harrington’s bitch.

Him and Carol had been ordered by Hopper to befriend Steve at school, to keep an eye on him. Asshole used his alpha voice and everything so they couldn’t refuse. Carol learned to actually like the knucklehead, but Tommy couldn’t stomach Steve. He wasn’t Pack. Not that Tommy wanted to be a werewolf. No, he had other plans. But to order them to hang out with the idiot was just too much to bear.

So when Bill Hargrove came into town and cleaned up that hornet’s nest that was the old Coven, Tommy knew what he wanted. He wanted real power. Werewolves were big slobbery beast who didn’t have a fucking thought in their head. Just pure instinct.

And of course Steve was too stupid to see that Billy always was a step ahead of the lumbering brute. He did think once or twice that maybe Nancy had figured it out earlier on in his little spy game, but no, not even the supposed smartest girl Hawkins figured it out.

She was completely wasted as a werewolf. She was too beautiful and smart to be limited by being a Were. Fuck, if Tommy hadn’t been gay, he would have pummeled Byers for her. Not that the Pack knew his proclivities toward his own sex. He had been ‘dating’ Carol for most of high school and hated how open Steve was about liking both.

How dare he! How dare Harrington be so comfortable in his skin that he could walk the halls of Hawkins High with confidence about his sexuality and have literally no one give a shit that he could easily be found with his mouth on a cock or his hand up a girl’s skirt.

Tommy was doing his patrols as normal and if Billy got reported to before Steve, then that was his business. Steve had told everyone to be on the lookout for a rogue Were. Most likely wolf, but could be fox or coyote.

It would just be his luck to run across the damn thi–

He stopped in his tracks. The wind had shifted enough that Tommy was almost literally hit in the face with the scent. His nose wasn’t as powerful as a full Were, but as a keeper, his nose was more than adequate for the job.

There! Just off the path and to the north. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the scent of blood hit his nose next. Whatever the Were was eating, he hoped it was while in Were form and not human.

He took a step toward the clearing, but stopped when someone else exited the woods. He froze, stock still.

“Oh my beloved,” the person was saying. “Perhaps I should have picked a different pack to manipulate. I thought it would be so easy to convince Hopper to remove your banishment, but all my plans have failed.”

The feral Were muttered something and the other person sighed. “I’m afraid we’ll have to move on, too many people are becoming suspicious.”

The feral Were muttered again.

“Of course, darling,” they muttered. “I just need to finish one last thing before we go.”

Tommy pressed his hands to his mouth to keep the scream from coming out of his mouth. He turned and ran out of the woods as fast as his feet could carry him. Every instinct as a keeper told him to run to his alpha. His very blood screamed at him that he was going the wrong direction.

But Billy needed to know. Even if Tommy was still loyal to the Pack. Billy needed to be warned.

~

Gareth was itching to race Steve. As a gwyllgi he wanted to see who was faster, the wolf or the Graveyard Dog.

Steve smiled when the younger teen suggested it because he knew of the Munsons’ plans to keep him guarded.

What surprised him the most was the fact that Barb had offered watch over him whenever he went outside of the town limits, closer to her family’s domain of Lover’s Lake. He assumed with Nancy being kept out of the loop on why it was necessary in the first place that she would not only disagree, she would go running to her best friend to tell her.

But according to Eddie and Brian, the selkie had overheard them talking about it at school and volunteered. She had been fighting with Nancy over her classism and if Steve needed her protection. She was going to give it.

There had been a few others, a couple of harpies from town, a pair of elderly sisters whom Steve had been kind to, a gumiho who was there at the school as an exchange student, and Bob Newby, who was much to everyone’s surprise a gnome.

Steve had told Nancy about the incident with the other pack and the one who had been banished. She frowned and nodded like she was expecting that answer. She then told Steve that she thought there was more to the story than what the papers and even the report let on. Something about the differing accounts and how his mate seemed insistent that his mate wouldn’t do such things.

He had left her to it.

Gareth and Steve had been racing down Main Street when Eddie who had been roped into judge the show of speed and agility spotted the smoke on the horizon.

The two shifters skidded to a halt, changing back into their human forms as they held each other.

“It’s the coven!” Gareth hissed, his nose positively quivering from the scent of death in the air.

Steve pushed him in the direction of the compound. “Warn the pack! Eddie get your uncle, quick!”

Both boys dashed off, changing as they hurtled themselves down the road to do as Steve said. Steve himself looked around and spotted a pay phone.

He called the fire department and told them it was the coven and to send only supes to the fire. He wasn’t sure he was believed but he sincerely hoped they had.

When he got the house Steve could see the carnage. And only three of them were vampires, and one thrall. Thankfully no one he knew personally, but still a grave loss to the coven.

The remaining dozen or so?

Humans.

Hunters by their garb and weaponry. They were dressed in bright white combat gear with silver crosses on their chest. Their neck guard, bracers, and chest plate were all silver painted white.

Steve spotted Jeff first and changed back into a human.

Jeff was sitting on the stoop of the house, covered in soot and coughing something fierce.

“Hey,” Steve said soothingly. “Are you okay?

Jeff looked up at him in shock. “What are you doing here, man?”

Steve crouched in front of him and looked him in the eye. “Saw the smoke, Gareth’s getting the pack and Eddie’s getting Wayne. I also called the fire department. Help’s on its way. But are you okay?”

“You really are something else, Harrington,” he muttered. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

It was then that Chrissy came out of the smoke and fog of the burning building and threw something to the ground. She spat on it and started kicking it repeatedly, cursing and foaming at the mouth.

Jeff and Steve dashed over to her and saw the object of her ire.

There, torn to almost literal pieces, but still unmistakable, was Jason Carver. His blue eyes wide in death, his perfect teeth and blond hair, covered in blood, and his golden crucifix twisted and bent.

“What the fuck happened?” Steve hissed as the sounds of sirens drew close.

~

The sun had risen a couple of hours ago and the Coven was happily kicking back in the house that they had long since claimed as their own.

Up top it was a regular house; three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dinning room, kitchen, study and front room. This was where Billy, Heather, Chrissy, and Keith stayed. Billy and Heather roomed together as a couple and if either Chrissy or Keith got a partner, they would be able to stay above ground, too.

But everyone else was underground. Not because the sun would burn them, it wouldn’t. They weren’t bitten. As they were still living, the sun didn’t hurt them. Not like it did Eddie and Wayne.

No they were underground because it was safer for the vampires to be protected from hunters.

Around noon, the doors to their house burst and Hunters begin to file in, smoke billowing everywhere from the smoke bombs they had thrown. A dozen men and women in white combat gear splashing the place with holy water and shouting in Latin.

Billy’s lips curled back into a snarl. He had fought hard for his position and wasn’t about to let a few humans ruin that for him.

He merrily lead them through the house, baiting them into using their ammo and holy water against him, wasting every bullet, every drop. Crucifixes were brandied about and still Billy ran, as they gave chase.

Just when they thought they had him cornered against the bookshelves in the study, the leader stepped forward and removed his gas mask, his hair tousled from the head gear.

There in all his blond hair, blue-eyed glory was Jason Carver.

“I have you now, Hargrove,” he sneered. “You think your kind is so clever, but I have the upper hand now. You could have healed Patrick, but now he’s a monster. And once I’m rid of you, those flea-bitten werewolves are next. You are the scourge that needs to be scrubbed from this world. And I aim to do just that.” He pulled out a sword from his hip and it glinted with silver. “For Patrick!”

Billy grinned as his eyes glittered with blood lust. “That’s where you’re wrong, Carver. I’m not trapped in here with you. You’re trapped in here with us!”

He pressed a button on the bookshelf next to him and it swung inwards to reveal the entire Coven standing behind him.

The vampires poured out of the hidden space into the study to the screams and terror of the Hunters.

Empty guns clattered uselessly, empty bottles of Holy Water thrown in hopes of a single drop hitting it’s target.

But it was no use. The vampires had the upper hand.

Billy launched himself right at Jason, going straight for the throat. The neck guard prevented Jason from dying on the spot, but Billy was well built outside of his super human strength of being a vampire. The silver merely slowed down the inevitable.

Jason went down hard and fast as Billy clawed and tore at the armor. Jason’s arms flailed wildly as he tried get purchase on any bit of Billy he could get his fingers into.

Billy placed a well aimed punch right in the center of Jason’s face, shattering the nose. Jason screamed but another hit made him black out just long for Billy to tear off the armor in pieces, snarling like a wounded animal. He shook Jason until the other boy awoke.

Instantly Jason knew this was the end. Without the silver armor, Billy was far too powerful to even try to struggle to get free. He was a dead man. His eyes went wide.

Billy held him up by his throat to show the remaining Hunters, that their leader was done for.

“This is the might of the vampire!” he bellowed and then he slowly, excruciatingly, painfully crushed Jason’s throat. And just before he took his last breath Billy leaned forward and whispered, “Your god is dead.”

He dropped the lifeless body to the floor and snarled at the fight going on around him. He rushed into battle, more monster than man in that moment, transforming into the beast humans’ truly feared.

Far too soon in Billy’s opinion all the Hunters were dead.

Heather, Keith, and Chrissy circled around him to stare down at the twisted body of Jason Carver.

“Religious zealot,” Chrissy spat.

“Hateful man,” Heather agreed, nudging the body with her toe.

Just then Tommy arrived at the door, a stunned expression on his face. “Oh god!”

Billy was in front of him in an instant, grabbing his shirt collar and hauling him off his feet.

“What do you know?” he snarled.

Tommy shook his head. “Nothing about this, I swear! I was coming to warn you. I know who’s behind this and your attempted poisoning.”

Billy set him down gently and tilted his head to one side. “I’m listening.”

So Tommy told him about what he heard in the clearing and who he saw.

“Excellent,” Billy said with a feral grin. “You’ve done well, little spy.” He snapped his fingers. “Keith, you’re with me.”

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. “So I have I done enough?”

Billy put his arm his shoulders and led him out into the bright light of the afternoon sun. He leaned in close so only Tommy could hear him. “I can’t change a Keeper into a vampire, even if I was a real vampire. But as I’m not, you’re just out of luck, dumbass.”

He pushed Tommy to the ground and laughed as he and Keith walked away from Tommy and the burning house that once was the abode of the vampire Coven.

~

Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: THIRTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology @w1ll0wtr33

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 6

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Jason crouched into a fighting stance, mimicking Danny. They began to circle each other, making a complete circle of the training ring in the process.

"One of us has to move first, and you're the one who wanted to test me." Jason quipped. Danny lunged, intending to hit a spot of fabric visible between Jason's armor.

Jason dodged, then went to hit Danny in the middle of his back, only for him to fall through him. He tucked into a roll and popped up on on knee. "Okay, now that's not fair. Density shifting? Didn't think I'd be fighting someone like the Martian."

Danny paused. "Martian?" He shook his head. "Never mind, I can ask later. I'm already handicapping myself with like half, the shit I can do keeping projectiles outta the fight. At least let me keep my basics."

Jason looked at him suspicious. "What are your basics?"

"Oh just intangibility, invisibility, flight and super-strength." Danny grinned like the little shit he was. Definitely a younger sibling. Jason thought. He rolled his eyes and got to his feet, ending up in a fighting stance again.

"Yeah, but If I can't touch you at all how are you gonna gauge how I fight?"

Danny tilted his head and squinted his eyes at him. "You have a point." He pouted. "Fine, I need dodging practice anyway."

"Good, now come at me." Jason gestured. Danny gave up trying to obey gravity and flew straight at Jason's mid-section, intending to tackle him. He was not expecting Jason to flip out of the way and to the side, before landing facing where Danny now was positioned.

Danny growled and then leapt towards Jason swinging at his face; Jason did not expect the kick to the stomach. With the air punched out of his lungs, Jason swiped at Danny's head, intending to knock him over. He only managed to send him spinning towards the railing before Danny caught and righted himself.

"You good?" He asked as Jason wheezed a breath in.

"Yeah, I'm good, when was the last time you fought a human kid?"

Danny froze for a moment before a dark look passed over his face. "About seven months. And I was aiming to harm." He shook himself after a moment before a guilty expression flashed across his face.

"I'm good, I promise. Just maybe pull it back a little so you don't accidentally break a few ribs." Jason waved him off, jumping a bit and getting himself psyched back up. "Let's go."

They continued to spar for hours. Danny won the first match, then Jason. The third they got each other locked in a grapple that neither could break and called it a draw. They moved onto weapons after that, first with swords, edges dull for training, then staffs. After a bit they broke for some water.

"So, your sister mentioned you were attending IRU? What's that?" Jason asked after chugging half a bottle.

"Oh, Infinite Realms University. There were a bunch of entities, ghost and neverborn alike, whose obsessions are either teaching or have decided that to feed their obsession and therefore existence, that they would teach others about it. It started as a group of ghosts who manifested together and then slowly expanded to cover every conceivable subject or degree. Myself and a couple of friends are trying to put together a way to do online classes so the people in Amity can attend."

"Oh, so they take full humans?" Maybe I can get a degree if I'm stuck here.

"I mean, they take anyone at all if they can handle the ambient ectoplasm."

"Right, you have both mentioned that. What exactly is ectoplasm? I nebulously know it has something to do with ghosts, but nothing further. Ghosts aren't really a thing in my world as far as I'm aware."

"Right, Jazz mentioned you're new to literally all of this stuff. We grew up with it and then I have it as a lived experience. Here's this is a form of ectoplasm." Danny allowed ectoplasm to pool in his cupped hands. It was florescent green and giving off a glow that shone across Danny's armor.

"That looks like Lazarus water but not bubbling. Can I touch it?"

"Probably not until we get your soul looked at. I mean, I can see it if I look, but I won't know what I'm looking at."

Jason paused. "You can see my soul?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, it's something I've been working on with some of my teachers. Kinda tricky to learn, and you need a proto-core at least to do it. It's taken me a few years to get it down right, now I gotta take more lessons on recognizing differences and classifications, I need to learn before I take the big chair." He chugged the rest of his water bottle and wiped his face with his arm.

"You nervous?" Jason asked.

"Wouldn't you? All I did was fight a dude like I always did to save my town and it resulted in being ghost royalty." He grumbled.

"I mean, I tried to steal the tired off a car and it resulted in me being able to summon mystical glowing swords."

"No way."

Jason smirked and stood, holding his hands out and willing the All-Blades to appear. Glowing flame-like blades sprang to life from his closed fists.

"Okay, that's pretty cool. I mean, I can do that with ice too, see?" Danny holds out his own hands and two swords made from ice appeared to grow from them.

They both looked at each other's weapons, then caught each other's eyes and smirked in unison. "Race ya to the ring!" Danny yelled then lumped high into the air above Jason who scrambled towards the ring.

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob fears that things with Molly are a lot more physical than emotional for her. But when Molly gets a visit from Casey, it helps her recognize just how strong her feelings for Bob really are. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob checked the time while he made dinner and smiled. Molly would be over soon. She never gave his key back, and he never asked for it back. It had been on her keyring for a few weeks, and he loved it when she let herself in and called his name. 

He heard the key in the door and froze, closing his eyes to let her voice wash over him. "Bobby?"

"In the kitchen, Mo," he answered. She looked perfect to him even though she came right from work. And Bob wanted her immediately. But the way she always initiated sex with him as soon as she saw him was starting to become a red flag. So he held back. Or he tried to. But her arms were around his waist, and her lips were on his neck, and she was whispering something dirty.

He was the one constantly whispering that he loved her. But she hadn't said it back. Not once. And now, in spite of himself, he was getting hard for her as she took his hands and guided them up the front of her scrubs top and inside her sports bra.

Immediately his brain told him something new and exciting was going on, and then Molly said, "I got something for you." He ran his thumbs across her nipples. The little bars he liked so much were gone, which sent him into a state of panic. But as she peeled off her top and her bra, Bob's heart started pounding. A strangled sound escaped him as he looked at Molly's nipples which were now sporting delicate gold rings with charms hanging from them. Glasses charms. 

"Honey," he moaned, dipping his head down to taste her there before he could even comprehend what he was doing. And a moment later, when Bob was laying on his living room floor with his pants pulled down and Molly riding him, he thought perhaps he was part of the problem. 

As he fingered the tiny glasses charms and enjoyed the look and feel of her bouncing on his cock, he realized that he couldn't keep his hands off her for more than five minutes. When he was with Molly, he wanted to be with her in every way. And he still didn't even know what this relationship was. But he knew he could make her cum. He was good at it. Loved doing it. 

She collapsed on him, shaking and moaning his name, and he thought he'd gladly do anything to hear her say she loved him.

"What's for dinner?" she asked. "Something healthy?" she added, climbing off of him and letting his cum drip onto his abs. She knelt down to lick him clean, and then he got to his feet as well. Bob was just in awe of her. 

"Pasta and salad," he replied, and she kissed his chin and looked up at him with the softest eyes. He wished he could better understand this balance they had which was far skewed in the physical direction. But when she looked at him like that, he felt like everything was okay.

The following day, Molly had to work a day shift. It was Saturday, and Bob was exhausted at the tee ball game. She kept him up half the night with her hands and mouth and pussy all over him. He had literally no idea how Molly was going to manage an eight hour shift when he could barely focus for a one hour game. Plus, he was going to pick Molly up after work and take her to the bar. 

"You okay?" Bradley asked him with a smirk. "Damn, you look beat."

Bob sighed and fixed his baseball cap. Maybe he could talk to Bradley about his apprehensions. "Molly came over last night, and she barely let me sleep-"

Bradley grimaced. "Please. Say less."

Bob cradled his face in his palms. "I'm trying to be serious here, okay? I think she is way more into me physically than emotionally. And trust me, this is an issue I never dreamt I would have with a woman."

"Bob," Bradley said with a sigh. "As much as I do not want to know details of any sort... are the two of you doing anything together besides fucking? Like going out? Binge watching a series on TV? Cooking meals? Talking about shit?"

"Yes," he replied. "She's got me addicted to serial killer documentaries. I take her out for sushi at least once a week. But she's not allowed to cook anything in my kitchen after the smoke detector scare. And we went for a hike last weekend. The other night, we laid on her living room floor and talked for hours. But I'm telling you, everything begins and ends with sex. Her hands were down my pants in the grocery store parking lot a few nights ago."

Bradley snorted. "You're fine, Bob. You're actually living the dream and complaining about it. You have a girlfriend who wants you in some capacity or another around the clock. Just enjoy it."

But that was the other problem. Molly wasn't actually his girlfriend. Was she? Did she think she was? Would he sound like an idiot if he asked for confirmation? Bob wanted confirmation, but he had no idea how to ask. And now it was time to start practice. 

Every time Bob glanced toward the bleachers and saw Molly's sister, he had to do a double take. But while she was cheering for Everett, she was also subtly waving to Bradley. Thank goodness they had made up. 

After the Tiny Eagles won, Bob went home, took a shower, and then took an afternoon nap. He hadn't done this since he had the flu a few years ago. He woke up just in time to leave to pick Molly up from work and take her to the Hard Deck. He changed into jeans and a shirt and fixed his hair. If she didn't get a chance to change after her shift, he'd stop by her place and let her get ready there. 

Now that Nat had met Molly, she kept asking Bob to bring her out to the bar, and finally tonight they were both off. But he was nervous to have her around all the guys. His friends would be bad enough, but the bar was a hangout for naval officers, and women were a hot commodity there. 

When he pulled into the hospital parking lot, it was packed. Bob thought he saw her car two aisles over as he parked his truck and hopped out to go meet her. And there she was, walking toward her car with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her ID lanyard in her hand. She hadn't spotted him yet, so he just stopped to admire her. She'd changed into some high-waisted white shorts and a light blue crop top with one of Bob's dress shirts unbuttoned over it. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and she was quite effortlessly the hottest woman Bob had ever encountered in his life. 

But when she got to her car, Bob watched her expression turn annoyed. He wasn't sure how he missed it, but there was a guy on a motorcycle parking her in. When Molly got close to him, he hopped off, and Bob could hear Molly say, "Casey."

Bob's blood ran cold. She was meeting him here, in the parking lot where she was supposed to be meeting Bob. Molly had reassured him that she was done with Casey, and he had believed her. She promised Bob that he was the only guy she was seeing. He was three parking spots away now, but he couldn't seem to make himself close the distance to Molly. He could almost feel the rejection from here. Yet she didn't look quite happy that Casey was in her personal space. 

He was trying to give her a bouquet of the wrong kind of flowers. She liked gas station flowers. Didn't this guy know anything? And now he had Molly caged in against her car. He was going to kiss her. Bob stumbled closer, and then Casey actually did kiss Molly's cheek right next to her mouth. 

Bob needed to leave. He needed to go back home. Watching this unfold was going to shatter his heart. 

"Fuck you, Casey," Molly said, shoving him away. He was big, and he didn't really budge, but Molly looked pissed off now. "You're only here because you want to get laid."

"Come on, sexy. I got you flowers. I'll take you for a ride to the beach. It'll be fun."

"Not interested," she replied, but he was still right there, practically touching her.

"Why haven't you been texting me back?" he asked, his voice getting a little more gruff. 

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm seeing someone else."

"So am I. Doesn't mean we can't fuck around. Nobody fucks like you. I missed these, too," he said, chuckling while he reached for Molly's shirt, swiping his thumb along the fabric near her nipples as she shoved him again.

Bob was running now, fists clenched as he shouted, "Hey!"

Molly and Casey both turned to face him as he rushed across the aisle, and while Casey looked irritated and mildly confused, Molly's face lit up in a beautiful smile. 

"Bobby," she sighed, stepping right into his arms and pressing her cheek to his chest. He held her close, but he didn't take his eyes off Casey. 

"This the guy you're seeing?" he asked with a laugh. 

Molly didn't have a chance to respond before Bob said in a voice with an undercurrent of rage, "You don't touch her." 

There must have been something in his tone, because Casey didn't respond. He just set the flowers down on the top of Molly's car as she pressed her lips to Bob's neck. Her fingers were in his hair as she whispered, "I missed you all day."

"Molly, are you okay?" Bob asked, and she pulled away from him and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good." Then she raised her middle finger in the air and said," Fuck off, Casey," as the other man climbed on his motorcycle and rode away. "He's just mad because I don't want him anymore."

"He doesn't get to touch you, Honey," Bob whispered, tracing the perfect curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. "I love you." He'd said it several times before, but usually in the dark, and never while making eye contact with her. She kissed his thumb and then his lips, but she didn't respond the way he had hoped. 

"Only you get to touch me," she murmured against his mouth, and Bob's heart was pounding for a different reason now as the sound of the motorcycle faded away. "Just you."

"Mo, Honey." His big hands were on the soft skin of her waist, tucked inside his shirt that she was wearing. She skipped a bra. Bob could see the shape of those pretty new rings through her crop top. And she was kissing him, giving him her soft moans as he held her. 

"I thought we were going to the bar," she whispered, smiling in the dying sunlight as his hands slid down to her butt. "Wanna see my new friend, Nat."

Bob stroked her lip again. "You'll stay with me the whole time, yeah? Me or Nat. The whole time."

"I will," she promised, looking very pleased with herself. Looking like she had Bob exactly where she wanted him.

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

The drive was pretty quiet as Bob gripped the steering wheel and drove exactly the speed limit. 

"So...my sister told me the Tiny Eagles won today."

"Yeah," he grunted in response. Molly sat quietly, unsure how to respond to him when he was like this. He was never like this.

After a mile or so, he asked, "Did you tell Casey to meet you at your car?"

Molly laughed. "Are you serious right now? No!"

"Then why was he there, Mo?"

She turned to face him as he drove, street lights illuminating his face with a golden glow. "The hospital was probably the only place he could find me. I've been avoiding his calls and texts, and I'm at your place more often than I'm at mine."

"Why does he think it's okay to touch you like that?" he asked. His voice sounded calm, but Molly could tell he had to work at it.

"I guess.... because I'd never told him no before," she said softly. "Are you mad at me?"

"At you?" he asked with a bitter sounding laugh. "No. Not at you. Maybe at myself a little bit." He pulled into the bar parking lot and found a spot in the back corner where it was dark. Molly could only make out his profile and the silver glint of his glasses when she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him.

"Don't be mad, Coach Bob. Casey is just upset that I moved on and that he has a tiny penis, and he can't do anything about either of those."

She crawled across the seat, and even though she could tell he didn't really want to, he welcomed her in his lap. She straddled his thighs and kissed him, and after a few seconds, he was kissing her back. He was a little rough, and Molly was whining softly as his lips found her collar bones and her neck.

She rubbed herself against him. He was rock hard in his jeans, and she was already panting and clenching around nothing. She needed him, just like she always did. Her hands went to his zipper, and he didn't fight it as she pulled him free from his jeans. 

"Bobby," she gasped when his hands eased her shirt up, and he leaned down to kiss her nipples. She was still wearing the new glasses rings she bought in his honor, and he was pulling them into his mouth one at a time and sucking. She struggled out of her shorts, only glancing around briefly to make sure nobody was watching. It didn't really matter though as long as she could feel him inside her. So she yanked her panties to the side and hissed in pleasure as she sank down around his cock.

"Molly," he grunted, brow creased as he looked at her. He shook his head before he grabbed her by the back of the neck and smashed his lips against hers. When Bob thrust up into her, she screamed, the sound muffled by his mouth. His unfastened belt buckle was rubbing against her clit, and she was already shaking. 

"Oh my god," she squealed, pulling his hair for leverage as she rode him rough until she was cumming, back arched in pleasure. Then he grabbed her by the hips and fucked her until he was groaning and whining. His mouth found her breasts again as he filled her up with his cum. Molly held onto him while she shook. She hoped he didn't mind a mess on the front of his jeans, because she wasn't exactly sure how they'd make it out of the truck looking tidy. 

"God damn it, Molly!" Bob growled, panting and tipping his head back against the seat. He was looking at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. But he sounded annoyed, and now Molly just wanted to go get her car and go home for the night, because she felt like she was doing everything wrong. 

"What?" she asked softly. He came. It wasn't like the quickie wasn't good for him. Hell, he was still inside her.

But when he tipped his head to look at her again, he looked so sad. She felt tears sting her eyes as he asked, "Is it just physical for you, Honey? Is that all this is?"

"What are you talking about?" she gasped, yanking her shirt down to cover herself. She reached for his hand, and he let her lace her fingers with his. 

Bob took a deep breath and said, "I'm talking about me and you." He couldn't even meet her eyes. He was looking at her cheek as he added, "You initiate sex all the time. I need to know. Is this just physical to you?" He was gesturing between their bodies with his free hand, and Molly's heart plummeted into her stomach.

"Bob," she gasped. "No." She kissed him, but he kept his mouth firm. "No," she whispered against his lips. "It's not just physical."

"Molly, you know I can't say no to you," he said, voice raspy. "You're just going to keep messing me up every single time, aren't you? I don't even know what we're doing here. I don't know what this is. You've got me so confused about what you want."

"You!" she practically shouted. "I want you!"

He closed his eyes. "You're all over me like this. But I don't like the way my heart feels."

Molly sobbed. This was a new low, even for her. The man she loved was actually still inside her, and he was about to tell her he didn't want to see her anymore. "But Bob... I love how I feel when I'm with you."

He looked miserable. "I know. I know you said I can make you orgasm, and you said I'm big."

"Not like that!" she gasped. He was cradling his forehead in his hand as she added, "I've never felt this happy around a man before. Not just because you're good in bed, Bobby. I've never needed someone physically all the time like this, because I've never been in love like this. I love you."

He opened his eyes and softly asked. "You do?"

She nodded and swiped at her tears. "Of course I do. It's just... I've never said that before. I've never been in love before. Showing you how I feel physically is the easiest way for me to try to make you understand that."

She was shaking with unshed tears as Bob pulled her against him and kissed her ear and the side of her neck. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I've never been with someone who loved me."

"I do, Molly. I love you. I want you to be my girlfriend," he whispered, running his big hands up and down her back.

"I kind of thought I already was," she replied with a soft laugh. She kissed his cheek. "But yeah, I definitely am now."

"Perfect." Bob's voice finally sounded calm, and this time when she kissed his lips, he returned every single one. 

"I've been thinking it for weeks, but I was scared to say it," she told him, her eyes fluttering closed. "Only two other people alive have ever heard those words from me, so if you think you're not important, Coach Cute Glasses, you're wrong." She opened her eyes, kissed the tip of his nose and said, "I love you."

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

Only a minimal mess was made when Molly eventually eased herself off of Bob's lap after telling him she loved him about a hundred more times and assuring him it was not just physical. Now they were both fully dressed and walking across the parking lot toward the bar entrance hand in hand. 

"Is it bad that I'm a little nervous to meet the rest of your friends?" she whispered, looking up at him. 

"Don't be nervous. If anything, I'm the one who's nervous, Honey. They're all going to flirt with you relentlessly and try to get me flustered."

Molly laughed as he held the door open for her, and she walked inside the noisy bar where the jukebox was blaring. "I'll just tell them we had sex in the parking lot ten minutes ago. Then they will be the ones who are flutered."

"Please don't," he groaned. "And, Mo? Is it okay if I just do this...." He reached for the front of the dress shirt she had on and did the middle button. He knew he was blushing as he said, "I don't really want these guys looking at you there."

She smirked. "You don't want to make them jealous?"

Bob's lips parted in a soft smile before he kissed her forehead. "Just look at your face, Mo. Gorgeous. They'll be plenty jealous without knowing about your piercings."

"Bob," she whined. "Stop being so perfect, okay? Perfect boyfriends get blowjobs whenever they want them."

He was still blushing as he led her toward the pool table where the other aviators, minus Bradley, were all hanging out. "There they are!" Nat said, hopping off of her stool and heading toward them. And then Bob had to watch every single one of the guys look Molly up and down like she was a dessert platter while she gave Nat a little hug.

"Holy shit," Jake said, eyes soft as he laughed. "Bob, come on. Phoenix said you were bringing the girl you're dating."

"Yeah," Bob confirmed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

"Bob," Jake gasped. "She's fucking hot."

"I know," he replied as Molly reached for his hand. "Guys, this is Molly. My girlfriend."

You could have heard a pin drop in the corner of the bar. Nat sighed and rolled her eyes before kicking Payback in the shin. He stumbled forward and offered Molly his hand. "Hi, I'm Payback. Or Reuben."

"Hi," Molly replied, shaking his hand. "I kind of wish I had a fun call sign. I'm just Molly."

"Oof," Jake whispered. "I can't think of a few call signs for her."

"Don't," Bob pleaded, shooting him a look.

"She's a smokeshow, Bob," Jake told him with pride in his voice. "I don't know how you did it, but excellent job."

"Thanks," he muttered, watching Fanboy and Coyote flirt and laugh with her. A moment later, Nat was leading Molly up to the bar to get drinks, and Bob dug his wallet out of his pocket. He tried to hand it to her, but she just kissed his cheek and whispered, "I love you," before pushing it back against his chest.

"How the hell did you manage to pull that one?" Coyote asked, watching Molly walk away in her tight shorts. "I've got to know."

"Seriously, Bob," Fanboy chimed in. "I mean, not to be rude, man, but damn."

Now his self esteem was taking a bit of a hit again, but when Molly came back, she pushed him down onto a stool and perched herself on his thigh. She handed him one of the beers she was holding and kissed him. "I love you," she crooned with a soft smile. "The more I say it, the better it feels." 

She sipped her drink as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Then they played a little pool and threw some darts, and Molly was never far from his arms. The guys were all still looking at him like he was some sort of magician, but she didn't seem to notice. She loved him. She kept telling him she loved him. 

She said it right in front of Nat, and Bob watched his friend blush, too. Because now Molly was a little tipsy, and she had her hand on his abs under his shirt. "Bobby, we should go home soon. I love you, and I wanna fuck you."

"Mo," he gasped, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, too. But everyone else can hear you, Honey."

"I don't care," she replied, licking his neck before she smiled at the guys. "You don't care if I tell Bob I love him and wanna fuck him, do you?"

They all looked at her, wide eyed and shaking their heads. 

"See, Lieutenant Floyd? They don't care."

Bob lasted another five minutes before she was dragging him out to the parking lot, ready to go home. 

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

Bob had Molly draped across him in bed on Sunday morning. The sky outside looked a little stormy, so they used that as an excuse to not move. "Let's just say put," he whispered, running his fingers along her arm. Goosebumps broke out in their wake, and she sighed. 

"Not even worth moving when we're so comfortable," she told him, squeezing his side. 

He was feeling so much better now about the way Molly responded to him physically. Now he knew that she loved him. They were in a relationship with a label. He thought he'd be able to enjoy the physical romance as much as he was enjoying the emotional romance now. 

Then their quiet cuddling was interrupted by his phone going off four times in a row with new text messages. Bob kissed her forehead and murmured, "Just when I was ready to stay right here until it was time for you to go to work."

Molly giggled and rolled off of him to reach for his phone. "I have to pee anyway." She handed him his phone and his glasses, and Bob watched her sashay out of his room completely naked. 

He groaned as he opened a bunch of messages from his sister Rebecca. "Oh no." He never responded to her about going to Piper's birthday party which was now just six days away. Really, he only wanted to go if Molly went with him, but asking her to meet his family was stressing him out. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, already climbing back into bed with him. His eyes were trained on her nipples as she eased herself down against his chest. The way her piercings pressed against him somehow calmed him now. He was just so used to her being here. 

"Do you want to go to Piper's birthday party with me?" he blurted out.

She ran her fingers through his hair with a smile. "When is it? I might have to change my work schedule."

"Saturday afternoon. Up in San Bernardino. And look, we haven't been dating very long, and my whole family is going to be there, so if you don't want to go, Honey, I totally understand."

"Oh," she gasped softly. "You want me to meet your family, Uncle Bob?"

He closed his eyes, unwilling to lie to her. "Desperately." He cracked one eye open to find her grinning at him before easing herself down his body.

"Perfect boyfriends get blowjobs," she reminded him before disappearing beneath the covers and wrapping her lips around him. She really must have thought he was perfect based on the way she got him off. And when she was done, she licked his tongue and told him she'd go to the birthday party. 

But when Saturday came, Bob found out that Molly had to give up her daytime shift to accommodate the party. She tried to shrug it off when he picked her up. "I'm just a little worried about making my rent with a day short of pay, but it'll be fine," she told him, slipping into his truck with the gift she insisted on buying. "I have money in savings."

Bob was about to tell her he'd pay her rent, but she leaned across the seat and kissed every viable thought out of his brain. So he put his truck in gear while Molly was in charge of the music, and the ninety minute drive to his parents' house felt like nothing when he was with her. 

When he pulled down their driveway, Molly was wiping her palms on her sundress. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted. "I've never met parents before." Once again, Bob couldn't understand how he was lucky enough to be Molly's first for so many things.

"They'll love you. My sister Rachel is ridiculous. You'll like her. And I'll be with you the entire time."

She nodded and crawled out his door behind him and into his arms. "If they don't like me, I'm blaming you." 

The introductions were even more shocking than the night at the Hard Deck in that Bob's entire family was looking at Molly with mixed expressions. Rebecca was excited to see her again since they had already met. Even Piper gave Molly a quick hug. But Bob's parents and his middle sister were looking at him with his arm around Molly with barely concealed shock. 

"I don't think they like me," Molly whispered, trying to dig her feet in.

"That's not it, Mo," he promised. "It's more like they can't believe I didn't make you up."

When Molly shook hands with his mom and then his dad and then Rachel, they all glanced at him. "Welcome!" his mom said. "The way Bob speaks about you, well... you seemed too good to be true, Molly!"

She shrugged with a little laugh. "Well, I'm just regular, old me."

"No, that's not true," Rachel replied with a smirk. "Bob must be ready to buy a ring or something, because the last time he brought a girl home, she dumped him the next day. And he vowed to never bring another one unless he was going to marry her."

Molly turned to look at Bob where he stood behind her. "Thanks, Rachel," he said with a fake smile and an unspoken promise that she would pay for that later. "Your mind is like a steel trap, isn't it?"

Rachel just shrugged and ate some potato chips. "Just keeping you honest. Anyway, Molly, it's really nice to meet you. I'll see you at your wedding."

Bob wanted to disappear. Betrayed by his own sister. He always did like Rebecca better. But then Molly surprised him by saying, "I'll let you know the color for the bridesmaids dresses."

Rachel smiled at her. And then his dad was taking her on a tour of their house. And then his mom was laughing as Molly told a funny story about a mishap in the emergency room. And then Molly was running around outside with the kids. 

"Bob, where did you find her?" his mom asked, grabbing him by the forearm and shaking him.

"At tee ball," he replied softly, watching Molly laughing as Piper sat down on her lap.

"Please, bring her back again. For a longer visit. When I have more time to talk to her."

"I will, mom."

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

Molly was exhausted when she said her goodbyes to Bob's family. The kids had worn her out all afternoon. But when his mom pulled her in for a hug, she felt like crying. She couldn't remember the last time she got a mom hug from anyone other than her own sister. And it felt so good, she ended up hugging her back for probably way longer than was actually appropriate.

"Thanks," Molly whispered. "Thanks for having me."

When his mom pulled away and looked at her, she said, "Bob promised me he'd bring you back again soon. I know he must be very serious about you, so hopefully we won't have to wait too long for another visit."

Molly swallowed past the lump in her throat, and she didn't know what compelled her to say anything as she whispered, "I love your son," like some sort of a lunatic. It must have been all the mom hugs that made her feel weak.

But he mom replied by pulling her in for another hug before Bob took her by the hand and led her out to his truck. It was getting dark, and the ride back to San Diego would get them in late. But Molly already knew she was welcome to crash with Bob for the night. She knew he would want her to.

But she was still surprised when Bob started rambling as he merged onto the highway. "I know it's probably too soon. And maybe I shouldn't even say anything. But I just can't seem to stop thinking about it. About how we never spend the night apart. Even when you work overnight, you end up in my bed in the morning. Or I end up at your place, just waiting for you to get home so we can go to sleep together." He paused, and she reached for his hand. He glanced her way with a nervous smile before he blurted out, "Molly, do you want to move in with me?"

"Oh," she gasped, delighted by the idea of if. In love with the idea of handing him his glasses every morning and knowing he would make her breakfast. Being together to binge watch documentaries and eat sushi. "Yes."

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

Moving in together! So, Bob is a stud. Was he always a stud, or does Molly bring it out in him? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 7

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[amomentsescape]

Hello! Can i ask for #4 and #9 with bubba, and #6 with (RZ) Michael please? Totally fine if you'd rather not, I just enjoy how you write them 🫶

October 2023 Halloween Prompt List

Bubba Sawyer x Reader, RZ! Michael Myers x Reader

A/N: I was able to squeeze your request in, so no worries! :)

Bubba Sawyer

#4: Going to a haunted house attraction

Surprisingly, this is his first time going

Even more surprisingly, the attraction seems to get to him a bit

Chasing and attacking random people? Totally cool

Having some adult jump out and scream at you? Not so much

Bubba can't help but get a bit fidgety while waiting in line

Partly from the actors, but also from the fact that he rarely interacts with other people that aren't his family or you

And once you guys are actually in the attraction, oh boy

Every jump scare and sound causes Bubba to let out squeaks and grunts

He grips onto your hand so tightly

You think he's going to rip your arm off the first half of the house

However, things take a turn when you enter one of the themed rooms

There are fake guts hanging from the ceiling, "dead" people sitting at the dining table

There was even fake blood dried on the floor

When Bubba saw this, he froze

You thought something was wrong until he let out a couple giggles

This soon turned into huge fits of laughter

Even the actor in the room looked confused

Bubba grabbed at one of the gut props and wiggled it around, looking at you before laughing in hysterics again

It was his way of telling you "I know what this is actually supposed to look like, and it's not this"

After that room, Bubba was a lot more relaxed

Some of the jump scares and costumes still got to him, but he felt more comfortable knowing that everything was indeed fake

Once you guys made it through the house, Bubba took both of your hands and bounced around happily

It was clear he had fun

And who would have guessed that Bubba would be scared of a man dressed as a demon and not of a room decked out in gore?

Go figure

#9: Costume shopping

The moment you even suggested going somewhere together, Bubba was all ears

He isn't exactly the biggest fan of people, but he loves spending time with you

Plus, Halloween was a bit more special

He could walk around happily in his mask and not feel judged

Besides, you were going to a costume shop anyways

No one was going to say a thing

When you both first walked in, Bubba was taken aback by the amount of clothing in the building

He didn't even know where to begin

Luckily, he had you to grab his hand and lead him around the place

He was very intrigued with all the mask options

Of course, they weren't as "genuine" as his, but he thought the different colors and monsters were cool

He also liked turning on all the animatronics and decorative lights (although a few made him jump)

When you walk by the "adult" section of the store, his eyes go wide

You may not be able to fully see it, but his face is beet red under his mask

You even tease him a bit by picking one of them up and swinging it around, acting like you were considering buying it

He stayed pretty close to you after that

But eventually, you both found some cute couples' costumes to try

He likes the idea of matching with you

You guys don't end up buying a costume, but you did leave with a few string lights and the promise to come back later

Michael Myers

#6: Going through a corn maze

This behemoth of a man isn't exactly going to get lost in one of these

He can literally see over every stalk of corn

And even if that wasn't the case, his sense of direction was ridiculous

You could put him in the middle of the forest and he'd find his way home

So when you first suggested going, he just looked at you

Walking through a bunch of crops? Why would he want to do that?

But you insisted on going and talked about it so excitedly that Michael gave in

The last thing he wanted was to have you all disappointed and sad

He cares about you in his own way

But his one stipulation was that it had to be just you two

So you managed to find a corn maze in the middle of nowhere

Michael just let you lead him wherever once you got there

Even if he knew you were basically going around in circles, he just let you drag him along

He didn't want to ruin your fun, even if he was bored

Watches you touch all the corn and pick up little stones

He even lets you hold his hand as you trudge your way through

You eventually have to break down and ask for his help though

There was no way you were going to make it out on your own

And without even needing to look, he simply points which direction to go

Secretly likes you depending on him for these types of things

[alessiathepirate]

Scream

TOUCH STARVED: Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Summary: Do you ever wonder what the source of the hunger for love is?

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

I was inspired by literally half a sentence from the movie, but still... we love our little murder boy.

Warnings: SPOILERS! (for Scream 6, but there are only some references), swearing, mentioned/referenced violence, hurt/comfort

•••

Ethan Landry was most definitely touch starved.

She noticed that pretty quickly after they started dating. The way an adorable, silly smile formed on his face as she kissed his cheek or played with his hair was too cute to miss. When she gently touched his face or put her arms around his neck or on his shoulders while they were kissing, the way he ran after her touch and presence was a heartwarming sight to see. Not to mention the slight blush what was still present everytime she gave him a small compliment, especially in front of others.

And God, she loved that when they were alone they were basically attached at the hip, hands or thighs always touching.

But even though she loved him and his presence more than anything, she couldn't help but wonder where that touch starvation came from. She knew that it's not always a pretty thing, especially not the source of it. Someone so hungry for love and peace - it comes from somewhere deep within.

She got the answer to that after the murders started to happen again, after another Ghostface showed up. And just like she thought, the source wasn't a pretty thing at all.

She woke up one night, legs tangled in the sheets, hands burried under the pillow to the feeling that someone sat down on the bed. She immediately opened her eyes in panic as she sat up, eyes trying to get used to the darkness. The phone calls and murders made her jumpy and paranoid, and with that more protective - both the first and last thing she did everyday was calling her friends, making sure they are fine.

The panic disappeared after she realized there was nothing to be scared of, the only other person in the room was Ethan, her lover and with that the rightful owner of the bedroom she was sleeping in.

"Ethan?" she called out to her boyfriend as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes. " 'Everything all right?"

It took a few seconds for him to answer. At first she thought he was starteled, that she scared him with her sudden movements, but his shoulders didn't move and nor did his arms.

"Everything's all right, sweetheart, you can go back to sleep."

Her tiredness disappeared as she looked at him, her back straightening like a hunter's dog sensing something in the dark. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at him, at his back because he didn't turn around.

She had never seen him hurt before. She's seen him happy, sad and tired... but hurt? That was a new thing and she didn't like it. She didn't like the way his voice became lower or how pained it sounded.

She climbed closer to him in bed, sat down on her calves behind him as she gently hugged him, one of her hands running through his hair, playing with his curles.

His body reacted like it always did, at first he froze then got used to the feeling of being touched, trying to unknowingly get closer to her to try and get lost in her presence.

"You can talk to me, E. You know that, right? I'm here for you."

She kissed his neck, then one of his shoulderblades through the material of his t-shirt, doing her best to try and make the tension from his body disappear.

He took a hold of her hand, the one that was resting on his shoulder and kissed it, ran his fingers along the back of it.

"I just had a phone call with my dad."

The sentence was sudden, but the honesty didn't make her anxious. Instead she kept on playing with his curles.

He never talked about his family. At least not to her. This was a sign of trust and it made her dizzy.

"Did something happen?"

"No, it's... I don't know." his uncertainty was painful to hear. "Nothing has to happen sometimes, you know."

He never talked like this and it scared her.

"You do love me, right?"

She didn't know whart hurt more: the way he said it or that he felt like he has to ask to make sure she does.

"What are you talking about, E?" she gently tried to make him look at her and when their eyes met she continued: "Of course I do! 'Wouldn't leave for the world, 'you understand? You're my pretty boy" she said, calling him what their friends teased them with "and I love you more than anything."

There it was - the slight blush after a compliment, his cheeks became pink and she noticed that like a sixth sense even in the dark.

"What made you say that?"

"It's just... everything is always about my brother and sometimes he forgets that I'm also his son."

She didn't ask questions. She just leaned closer to his face, despite their weird position, and kissed him, slow and gentle as her hands softly explored his body and hugged him, making him feel damn well that to her he is precious. And he kissed back, but so hungrily that her heart hurt. She felt him shiver and sensed that his heart is full of love and adoration. She didn't understand - she never will, how no one appreciates him as much as she does when he has so much love to give.

She broke the kiss after a while and smiled at him.

"Well I can tell you that you are my boyfriend and I love you more than anything. And I'll for sure kick your dad and brother in the balls if I have to."

In that moment she understood. She understood why he reacted to her touch the way he did, she understood where that starvation for love came from. That night she felt her heart grow, it became full of the need to protect and love and prove.

As they lied back down and pulled the covers up, Ethan hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. And while she made sure to remind him how loved he is, she forgot to realize that Ethan never mentioned that he has a brother before.

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 2833

“Where in the actual heck did you lead me?”

“Trying to figure that out right now. How many turns have you taken?”

“You mean to the left or right?” you inquired cautiously, steps splashing in the shallow water of the sewer tunnel you currently found yourself in. You thought that since you had taken this exact same path literally yesterday you might remember the way. Well, you thought wrong, which was why you called up the man you were on your way to meet for assistance.

Donnie huffed over the phone. “Both, preferably. Why would you go traversing through a complex labyrinth of a sewer system, not knowing where you’re going, and not keeping track of where you’ve gone?”

“Uhh, misguided faith in myself?”

“Eh. Fair enough. I’ll send auxiliary support your way.”

“‘Auxiliary support?’ What is that supposed to-”

Before you could even finish your thought, not to mention get a response, the call ended.

You gaped. Either the signal cut out, which was feasible in the sewers, or he ended the call. For Donnie’s sake, he’d better have hoped it was the former.

You froze in the eerie silence and dark, breathing tersely. Your hands hung uncomfortably off your sides, shoulders drawn tight.

What were you supposed to do now?

Well, retracing your steps seemed better than continuing further into uncharted territory. Following that logic, you pivoted and meandered cautiously back from where you came.

The tunnel came upon an especially dark section, so you turned on your phone’s flashlight. Your field of vision was small, but at least you could directly in front of you. Better than nothingness..

Suddenly, a strange noise entered your ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring. It sounded vaguely in front of you, though the reverberation from the tunnels made it hard to discern.

You tensed up again.

What if it was from those goons from last night? Or, even worse, what if it was-

As the source of the odd whirring sound came into view, you paused.

“Ohhhh my goodness…” Your startled reflexes swiftly softened as you registered the little purple drone levitating before you.

A very boop-able beak was on what you assumed to be its face, with petite propellers acting as limbs. Bottom line, it was adorable.

“Woah, how’s it hanging, dude?” the drone greeted. “D told me you got a bit turned around down here, but we’ll get you to the lair real quick.”

“Woah.” You admired the tech, tilting your head at it. “So, am I talking to Donnie or an algorithm right now?”

“Neither! The name’s S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. broski!” it- he introduced himself.

“Huh. Nice to meet you, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.,” you responded and gave your name in return. “Would you mind please showing me to Donnie?”

“No problem!” the drone floated higher excitedly before whipping around. “Follow me. We’ll be back to the lab in a jiff.”

“Thanks!”

You trailed along the polite drone in silence, weaving and wandering through dim channels until he spoke up.

“So, you and D are cool?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You tipped your head down inquisitively. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

You barked out a laugh at how abrupt his sass was. “Oh?”

“Yeah! He can be super overbearing sometimes- like, won’t-even-let-me-out-of-the-lair overbearing, you know? He’s gotten better about it, but he can still be way protective.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you offered. The drone did not seem to agree.

“Oh, it can, bro! One time, he padlocked my propellers and I ended up in, like, a gang almost-”

As your conversation trailed off and you two moved, the area around you grew lighter and you found yourself in the empty atrium of the lair. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. guided you up to the second floor, down a dim hallway, and to a stop in front of large, metallic doors as his rant about Donnie came to a close.

“Thanks, little guy. I appreciate the help.” You smiled, and the drone tilted his head and returned the gesture.

“Of course, bro! Just let me know if you get too bored with Donnie. Us cool people can hang out and do something less bogus.”

You chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

With a small salute, you sent him whirring off.

You turned to face the sturdy-looking doors before you. Just as you moved to rap on them, the doors opened with a heavy sound of air. You took a confused glance to the right, left, before stepping into the lab.

The room consisted mostly of metallic silver hues with tables and shelves stacked up with a plethora of technological treasures. Purple mood lights illuminated the room softly, though it was still a lot more effective than your flashlight was.

Sounds of clinging and clanging proliferated from somewhere behind a shelf. You followed them, expecting to find your companion tinkering on something - perhaps the invention he was researching at the library?

Instead, you turned the corner to see him using the titanium arms that extended from his battle shell to swipe what was probably a literal ton of empty energy drinks off of his desk and into a trash can beside it.

You interrupted his tidying up with a cough to announce your presence.

Startled, he snapped his head back to look at you, his technology not ceasing to clear the irrelevant items from his desk.

“Oh. You made it. Congratulations,” he said, though his monotonous tone did not invoke any sentiment of felicitations.

“Yeah, I made it, little thanks to you.”

“I take it S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. behaved himself?”

“He was an angel.” You put a hand over your heart and walked up to him just as a thought struck you. “By the way, how did you know where to send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“That is unimportant right now. What matters iiiis-” he paused to gesture to his desk, “-science! Engineering, to be more specific, but we can delve into that more later.”

“Hm.” You leaned over the desk, viewing a highly detailed blueprint and sheet of notes. The thought that he probably  definitely tracked your call faded as you immersed yourself in his work. “You mentioned a prototype of this yesterday?”

“I admire your tenacity, but would you not prefer to discuss the workings of the machine before seeing the results?” he queried.

“Is it not helpful to vary in learning techniques? I’m game for some visual learning.”

“Sigh, if you insist.”

Donnie turned around, delicately grabbed an object from a shelf beside him, set it down on the desk.

The metal object was spherical, for the most part, with some geometric patterns on the bottom to prop it up. It was sizable, though wieldy enough to be portable. On the side of it was an ingrained insignia you’d seen on his other tech, and beside that was an odd yet intentional divot in the side.

“About this prototype for the generator-” Donnie glanced to the side, “it’s been built, but I don’t have the juice for it yet.”

“So you don’t have the energy source for your energy source?”

He deadpanned at your teasing. “It’s a prototype for a reason.” 

“Is that dent where the mystic crystal or whatever is supposed to go?”

“Yes, it is intended to be for a crystal, though I’ll take any viable source I can get. Now, shall we discuss the behind the scenes?”

You nodded.

Before crashing into his own chair, he pulled up a stool for you. Oddly considerate, but you wouldn’t complain.

From talk of sinusoidal waves, frequencies, output and input responses from certain mystic crystals, the conversation went into a plenitude of tangentially related topics, the minutiae of which he had to explain to you, but you got the majority of it. However, such conversation came at a price, for one cannot blab and/or yap for an hour consecutively without obtaining a splitting headache and requiring sustenance.

Eventually, you cleared your throat to get his attention off of the blueprints for the energy source. The turtle met your gaze curiously.

“All this ��being a genius’ stuff has left me positively parched,” you spoke up, popping the p’s. “You have anything to drink in here? Or is the lair’s kitchen better?”

It felt kind of weird to refer to his residence as a lair, but you were trying.

“This is a laboratory; it would be reprehensible to bring food or beverage in here.”

The two of you glanced down at the miniature trash can adjacent to his desk and the cans overflowing from it.

“Your trash begs to differ.”

He clicked his tongue. “Those cans are empty now, and I don’t have more. We probably have water in the fridge.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Go for a walk, head to a cafe, get some fresh air. I would prefer not getting lost here again.”

Donnie hummed, tapped his chin.“Not a bad idea. You’re buying, though.”

“Sure!”

He blinked. “I was joking. Of course I’m going to buy my own beverage.”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, hopping up from your seat. “Do you want to grab a coat or something? The wind chill’s bad today.”

“Forcing me out of my lab for food, insisting I prepare for the weather, if I didn’t know better I might say you care about me.” Donnie raised a playful eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And I haven’t forced you anywhere. For legal purposes.”

“You can wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Donnie hopped up and exited the lab, presumably to get some warmer clothes.

As he slipped out of the room, you traced a finger over the blueprints he had gushed over so adamantly. So much time and effort and knowledge had been poured into every aspect of this project, and that, not to mention the complexity of it, was enough to gain your respect. You pulled out your phone, snapped a quick picture of the paper, not the prototype for now, and slipped it back into your pocket.

You waited for an uncomfortable moment, literally twiddling your thumbs, trying to seem casual. There was a literal trove of things to check out or explore in the room, but you did not know how much time you had. 

And you couldn’t risk getting caught.

So you waited. And waited.

Okay, either Donnie ditched you or he just took forever to get ready.

Thinking back to how late he was to April’s party heavily implied the latter.

After another moment of just standing next to his desk, the sound of footsteps padding closer drew your attention up.

Lo and behold, in the doorway stood Donnie with crossed arms.

His mask and goggles remained the same, steadfast on his head, but he did put on some clothes. A snug black turtleneck and flowy lavender cargo pants had joined the ensemble, though there was still a severe lack of shoes.

“Okay, Steve Jobs.” The comment slipped out of your mouth before you could process it. It came across lightheartedly enough, though, based on Donnie’s grin.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, because that’s going straight up here.” He tapped his index to his temple and started walking out of the lab. You followed after.

“I guess with all that square footage something’s bound to go up there.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

You elbowed

“I’m kidding. Your brain capacity is bound to be maxed out already with all that knowledge.”

“Thanks? That- wasn’t derogatory, right?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re patronizing me?”

“Sort of. I was mostly calling you smart, in a roundabout way.”

“Huh. So, thanks?”

“Welcome.”

You two quickly made your way out of the lair and onto the surface’s streets.

You realized just as quickly that you had no idea where you were headed to.

“Uhh, D?”

“I know. Unless you have other suggestions, I know a place nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, please lead the way. I genuinely had no idea where to go.”

“Ha,” he grinned, taking the lead down a few streets and corridors and bringing you two to a quaint coffee shop. String lights, beige bricks, sleek tables and booths, the store was modern and comely.

Of course, with it being New York City, the line was huge, but this place was concealed well enough that it at least wasn’t down the road.

While waiting in line, you didn’t talk much, instead opting to either scroll on your phones or try to figure out which kind of coffee or tea you wanted.

As you neared the register, still having no idea what you wanted, you passed the small refrigerated shelf of items.

“Oh, I’ve seen these before!” Your attention caught on some bottles of Yakult, so you selected one of the original flavors. “Never tried it though. Want to try it together?”

“Why not?” he grinned uncertainly and flashed a couple of thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!”

You two made it to the register and ended up buying the probiotic drinks along with a couple of baked goods. Before he could make a move to pay for at least his items, you swooped in and bought them all with an innocent grin.

His glare saw through your unassuming demeanor.

You got your confections and drinks before making your way to an available booth. You took up a seat across from him and tried the new drink.

“I like it.” You nodded. It was citrusy, smooth, overall pleasant to indulge in.

“Oh. Mmmm…” he shuddered, forcing it down with a queasy smile on his face.

“Huh. You hate it,” you observed bemusedly. You relished the panic that washed over him at your comment.

“What? Nooo. This- this is very… not bad,” he faltered under your smug stare.

“It’s fine!” you reassured as you slid his Yakult toward yourself. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

“But-” he interjected, glancing down at the accursed drink, then back up to you. “But you bought it for me. I hardly consider it amiable to discard something that someone else purchased.”

“Well, luckily for us both, it’s not going to waste.”

Before he had the opportunity to ask you to elaborate, you took a long sip of the probiotic beverage. You smiled while doing so, coming face to face with a floored turtle when you set it back down on the table.

He stared numbly at you before stammering out, “I- you- do you have any idea how many germs we just shared?” 

“Oh well,” you shrugged. “Despite the atrocious things that come out of it, I think you have a fairly clean mouth. Now, how about we get you something else to drink? Something that you don’t find atrocious.”

“Fine, but I’ll be paying for it this time.”

You smiled knowingly, hand already fastened on your wallet. “We’ll see.”

The grin stayed smugly planted on your face as you made it to the front counter and slapped your payment down before he could.

“You’re just gonna have to settle with buying next time,” was your response to his scowl.

“Next time?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

You shrugged playfully. “Unless you don’t want to do this again. I’m good either way.”

“Um, no, n-next time’s on me,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright then. Do you want to tell the barista what you want?” you urged, indicating toward a visibly disinterested worker behind the counter.

“Right!” Donnie finally made it back onto this plane of reality and sprung into action, making his selection from the refrigerated section beside the counter.

“Flavorless juice?” Your jaw dropped as he slid it to the worker.

“Uh, yeah? They’ve got the good kind here. 50% less flavor…”

“Okay then…” you opted to judge him silently and let the man enjoy his juice, albeit an atrocious variety of juice.

You started walking back to the booth before a notification on your phone made you pause. Taking it out, your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, I spent a lot longer with you than I thought I did. Um, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll catch you later?”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

You left him standing there with a smile and a couple of finger guns before bounding off toward the exit and out of his view.

Once you left his field of vision, he looked back down at his drink. The drink you bought for him. The drink you spent additional time and money on to get for him just because he couldn’t texturally handle the other one you’d bought him.

What you mentioned earlier about doing this again sounded quite nice.

Perhaps, instead of waiting for fate or probability or whatever was at play to cause you to run into each other again, it could be a more active endeavor, something conscious.

That didn’t sound half bad to him.

(chapter artwork HERE)

Taglist~ @rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

[hbyrde36]

No Vacancy

Chapter 11: Private Party

WC: 6366 | R: Explicit | CH: 11/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10

*EDDIE*

“Huh,” Eddie huffed, flopping down onto Chrissy’s neatly made bed. It jostled the carefully arranged mountain of pillows that were stacked up against the headboard, sending several of them tumbling to the floor. Why did girls always have so many goddamn pillows?

“So that’s why you never let me come in here before. You do live in a two bedroom!”

Chrissy bent to retrieve her fallen children and put them back in their proper place, except for the last, a bright pink fuzzy number with a cross-stitched peace sign on its front that she wacked him in the back of the head with. “I thought we’d moved past this. Haven't I apologized enough for the whole setup thing?”

He stuck out his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest. “Will the lies never cease, Christine? I feel robbed! You and Robin were never sharing a bed?!”

“We are now and that’s what matters, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved a hand through the air. “But where’s the pining for the person lying right next to you night after night?! Where’s the lovesick staring at the other person’s face while they sleep and wishing you could just tell them how you feel?! Where’s the drama?!”

“I think we've had more than enough of that around here—for life. Maybe now it’s time for us all to just be happy.”

“Happy…” Eddie repeated with a sigh. 

He hadn’t meant for it to come off so melancholy. He was happy—really and truly.

It’d been a month of pure bliss since he and Steve returned from Hawkins together hand-in-hand. Since all four of them had come back together with apologies, and made up. 

The weeks had been full of passionate nights, and sometimes mornings when he and Steve were both too tired to do much more than cuddle once he came home from the bar—punctuated by lazy afternoons by the motel pool, and double dinner dates with the girls whenever Eddie’s work schedule would allow for it.

But just there, in the background, in the dark corner of Eddie’s mind was this great big looming thing.

“Uh oh. Is the honeymoon phase over already? Did Steve finally realize all your flaws are actually annoying, and not cute quirks?”

“No! Of course not. And I resent the implication that my many eccentricities are anything less than adorable.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Eddie hesitated. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a secret or anything, but it didn’t escape his notice that Steve hadn’t brought up the subject of his impending new job placement even once since their little talk.

“Nothing is wrong, exactly. It’s just… did you know Steve is staying here—or like, moving here—permanently, when the summer is over?”

“Robin mentioned he was thinking about taking a job at the elementary school, but I didn't know he’d decided.”

“Well, he has, and he wants me to think about staying too.”

Chrissy, who had turned away to rifle through the cosmetics bag sitting open on her dresser, froze, the tip of her mascara wand hovering just above her lashes. 

“And are you?” She asked after a beat, resuming her makeup routine. “Uh… thinking about it, I mean?” 

“Am I—” Eddie grunted, slapping his hand down on the bed. “It's literally the only thing I've been able to think about for weeks!”

“Weeks!” She screeched. “Wait, when did this happen?”

“The day we drove back.”

She gaped at him through the small mirror of her blush compact. “And you’re just telling me this now?!”

He shrugged. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“Eddie,” She sighed, snapping the compact shut and spinning on her heel to face him. 

“So, what are your thoughts?”

While he knew she asked out of curiosity and concern for him and Steve and the implications for their future together, she was asking for herself too. 

She’d often made comments over the years, during their all too brief phone calls and in letters, about them living near each other again one day, either in the same town like they did as kids growing up in Hawkins, or better yet, in side-by-side homes or at the end of the same cul-de-sac. 

But those kinds of picket fence dreams were never Eddie’s style, or so he’d always told himself.

“I think…” Eddie stared down at his own hands now resting in his lap, nervously spinning his chunky rings around and around. 

“Me and Steve, I think we’ve done this whole thing out of order. We’ve been living together essentially, since before we were a couple—before we were even friends really. Then we both said I love you within the first few weeks, and now considering permanent for-real moving? Moving towns, moving in together—on purpose this time? That’s huge! I mean, all that’s left after that is to get married, and grow old together, and die, and—” 

Suddenly Eddie felt like he couldn’t get a full breath, what little air he did manage to take into his lungs doing nothing to ease the burning in his chest. His heart raced wildly, and he swallowed hard, tilting wide terrified eyes up to look at Chrissy. 

“Oh god, do you think he wants to get married someday? I don’t know if I’m built for—“

“Ooookay, babe. Let’s just calm down for a second here.” Chrissy sank down onto the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into her side—resting her cheek on the top of his head. 

“For one—honey, gay marriage isn’t even legal.”

Oh right. 

Her words should have filled him with relief, and they did, but to his surprise, just as equal was the feeling of disappointment brought on by the reminder. 

“And for two—” Chrissy went on. “It doesn’t have to be all that. You can always have your own rooms, if say, you decide you want to stay here but you need to slow things down with Steve, or just want some space.”

“No—” He was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “No, I don't want to go backwards. I–I love having him right there. I love his face being the last thing I see before I go to sleep, and the first I see in the morning even though that means waking up at an ungodly hour. It’s totally worth it for his goodbye kiss. I love his sweetness, his gentleness, and the sound of his voice. The soft little smile he gives me when he’s half asleep and I crawl into bed at the end of the night, like I'm his favorite thing in the whole fucking world.”

Eddie took a big breath, he could wax poetic on everything he loved about Steve for hours if she’d let him, but what it really boiled down to was one simple fact. 

“I just love him, Chris.”

Chrissy sniffled, leaning away from him to wipe carefully at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “Sorry. I just never thought I'd hear you talk about someone that way.”

Eddie sat up too, shaking his head at himself. “Yeah, me either.”

“So, what's holding you back?”

“Honestly? I wanted to say yes right then and there, the second he told me. The second I recovered from the shock, anyway. But he looked so nervous about it, and scared, and we’d just put things back together again, and—and so I’ve been doing what he asked.”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

“I really don’t want to mess this up, and I know I don’t have a lot of experience with this stuff, but I can't help feeling like it’s too soon, like we’re going too fast. What if it fizzles out, and a year from now we can’t stand the sight of each other?” 

She snorted. “Highly unlikely.”

“How do you figure?”

“I think at this point you can admit that you’ve had a crush on Steve since high school, maybe even middle school. That’s a long time to carry a torch for someone. If it’s lasted this long, I’d say those feelings are here to stay.” 

Eddie pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to stomp like a petulant child. “Jesus H. Christ. First Uncle Wayne, and now you?! I’m never gonna live that down.”

“Who’s had a crush on who since high school?” Robin's voice filtered in from the other room, just before she appeared in Chrissy's doorway.

“You didn’t tell me she was here.” Eddie scowled at Chrissy before swinging his gaze back around to settle on Robin. 

They may have made nice since he fixed things with Steve, and Eddie did love the shit out of her, but he and Robin’s relationship was akin to that of a slightly antagonistic brother and sister, and he lived for the bit. “Don’t you have a job you should be doing, Buckley?”

Robin cocked her hip, leaning it against the door frame as she crossed her arms, giving him very pointed eye contact. “Don’t you, Munson?” 

Frowning, Eddie glanced at his watch. He had a decent amount of time left before he had to be at the bar to start setting up for Chrissy’s surprise party later, but he still needed to go back upstairs to change, and to get a different little surprise ready for the other love of his life.

“So, you’ve had it bad for Steve since high school too?” Robin said when he didn't hit her with a comeback. “Jeez you two really are perfect for each other.”

Eddie began to roll his eyes but stopped mid-motion as he processed all of what she’d just said. “Wait… too?”

“Oh,” Robin’s eyebrows flew up. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Eddie took a slow step towards her with narrowed eyes.

“Right!” Robin straightened abruptly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder as she started slowly backing away. “So, I’d better get back to the desk. I was just stopping in to say hi and, uh, grab my lunch… I left it on the counter.”

“Robin,” Eddie growled after her, “get back here and explain yourself!” 

“I'll see you tonight!” She shouted back, followed immediately by the slamming of a door.

Coward.

Eddie sighed, looking back to see Chrissy with both hands covering her mouth, practically in tears with silent laughter. 

“I guess I'd better go too, don’t want to be late for work.” Eddie grumbled.

“Sure, Eds,” Chrissy said, eyes still sparkling. “I’ll see you later.”

As far as she knew it was going to be a night like any other. Steve was off the next day, so once the motel office closed for the night, he, Robin, and Chrissy would come to Tide’s to hang out where Eddie could join in from behind the bar whenever he wasn’t busy with customers. 

It being a week out from her actual birthday, she didn't suspect a thing.

Eddie had talked to his boss, and Dan agreed to close the bar to the public from ten p.m. on for a private event so they could celebrate his best friend with the fanfare she deserved. The older man also offered to handle the guest list, aware that Eddie and his friends didn’t know many of the locals yet, and promised to keep it to those he knew to be allies or members of the queer community themselves, so everyone could feel comfortable being themselves for the night without fear of judgment.

As the clock ticked down to party time, Eddie couldn’t stop watching the door, his eyes searching for Chrissy’s blonde ponytail, or Steve’s familiar swoop of chestnut hair, any sign that his three best friends had arrived. They’d put up the private party sign an hour ago, and slowly began to clear the bar of any straggling tourists while the weekend bouncer, Manny, sat out front on a stool, ensuring no one uninvited got inside.

At ten o’clock on the dot they finally arrived, and for a moment all Eddie could do was stare.

Weather due to the heat, which had hit another level as July turned to August, or as a personal assault on Eddie’s sanity, Steve had forgone his usual polo shirts and button ups in favor of an old Madonna tour t-shirt that he’d cut into a crop top, showing off even more tanned skin to its best advantage against the crisp white of the fabric. 

It was an effort, but Eddie forced himself to look away and jump into action, ducking under the bar to rush over and greet his people.

He pressed a quick kiss hello to Steve’s cheek but didn’t let himself linger, going right for his best girl straight after, scooping her up into a tight hug and spinning her around. 

Chrissy threw her head back, squealing with delight as her feet lifted off the ground. 

“Happy Birthday, Chris,” Eddie said as he finally set her down, pressing lips to the top of her head. 

Her eyes darted all around the bar, taking in the small crowd, the rotating lights, the decorations, balloons, and finally the big hand painted banner strung up above the bar. 

“This is all for me?” She asked.

Eddie grinned, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he turned to address their fellow revelers.

“Excuse me everyone!” He shouted, waiting for the music to be turned down before continuing. “I want to thank you all for being here, and Dan especially for helping put this all together. I’d like to introduce you all to the birthday girl!” 

Hearty applause broke out across the room, as well as shouts of, “Happy Birthday!” And even a few good natured wolf whistles when Chrissy leaned away from Eddie to steal a kiss from her girlfriend.

“Were you in on this too?” Chrissy shouted to Robin over the cacophony.

Robin nodded, “I take no credit though. I might have known about it, but Eddie did all the work.”

Before Eddie could correct the record and explain again that he really owed it all to Dan, the man himself was striding up to them.

“Evening, girls, Steve.” Dan greeted them warmly. 

Steve, and the girls to a lesser extent, had been spending more and more time at the bar lately, and had all quickly become friendly with Eddie’s boss.

“And a very happy birthday to you,” the older man continued, inclining his head at Chrissy. “If you’d like, I thought I could take you and Robin around and introduce you to some of your guests?” 

The girls agreed, promising to meet back up with Steve and Eddie a little later, before rushing off to mingle.

With a palm pressed to his lower back, Eddie led Steve over to the bar. Not that he actually needed the guiding hand, but Eddie was gonna go nuts if he didn’t get to touch Steve soon, and it was one of the few ways he could do that while still maintaining some semblance of decorum.

Steve slid into his usual barstool down the end by the corner, furthest from the speakers so they could actually carry on a conversation, pouting when Eddie let him go to sneak back behind the bar.

“I thought you’d be on this side of the bar tonight.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, with you dressed like that?” Eddie drummed his fingers along the bartop. “Keeping this wood between us is the only way I'll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“Who said you had to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Steven,” Eddie warned.

“I thought this was a safe space tonight.”

“Yes love, but I don’t think Dan would appreciate it if I dropped to my knees for you in the middle of the dance floor.”

Steve sagged in his seat, letting out an over dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine.”

Eddie chuckled. Sometimes he wasn’t sure who was rubbing off on who more.

They chatted a little about Steve’s day on the beach while Eddie put together their drinks. The usual for Steve, Jack and Coke with lime, no ice, and a tequila on the rocks for himself. Apparently, the jellyfish were out in full force and it sounded like Steve had spent half his day treating burns with vinegar.

“So, Robin said something interesting earlier today,” Eddie said after a while, when Steve was finished with his stories, and he was pouring out their second round of drinks for the night.

“Oh yeah?” 

Eddie opened his mouth to elaborate but quickly snapped it shut as his boss appeared at Steve’s side—alone.

“Abandoning our girls already, Dan?” Steve asked.

The older man huffed a laugh. “I was just getting in the way anyhow. Introduced them to Tracey and her partner Pat, and the four of them seem to be hitting it off. Figured I’d leave them to make friends. Tracey’s the manager over at Ocean First bank y’know.”

Eddie smiled widely as he met Steve’s eyes, and he knew they had to be thinking the same thing. Not to get ahead of themselves, but if Chrissy and Robin got in good with someone from the bank, it could make all the difference in the motel’s future. 

“That’s, uh, a good friend to have,” Steve commented.

“You aint kiddin’!” Dan clapped Steve on the shoulder, his eyes scanning the room. 

Suddenly he perked up, saying to himself “Oh, there he is,” and began to wave someone over.

Eddie followed his line of sight to the door and nearly choked on his own spit.

Motherfucker.

He felt all the blood drain from his face as another man approached, a younger man who looked to be about their age—a very attractive man who looked eerily similar to the one Eddie had seen from his hiding spot, kissing Steve goodbye on the fateful night that had changed the course of his life forever. 

Eddie reached over, curling a possessive hand over Steve's where it rested on the bar. He held his breath, waiting for Steve’s reaction, but he was oblivious, looking down and taking a sip of his drink.

“Boys, this is my son, Danny.”

Steve's head snapped up at the name, looking horrified as his eyes landed directly on the newcomer.

“This is Eddie,” Dan continued his introductions, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the air. “My best bartender—though if you let slip to Brenda I said that I’ll deny everything. And this is—

Danny smiled, flashing a set of perfectly straight white teeth. “Lifeguard Steve.” 

Eddie hated him.

“Oh! I see you two already know each other.” Dan chuckled, giving a little shake of his head. “Well, that’s a small town for ya! Anyway, I gotta go check on a few things so I'll leave you three to chat.” 

Eddie watched the man walk away, wondering if it would be weird to ask him to stay, and when he turned back found that Steve wasn’t looking at Danny anymore, his wide worried eyes were now trained squarely on Eddie's face, hand tensing under his hold.

And whatever feelings of jealousy Eddie might have felt were gone in an instant, replaced with the need to prove to Steve, as well as himself, that he could handle this without doing any number of stupid things to ruin what they had.

He squeezed Steve's hand once firmly before letting go, leaning out to offer it to Danny, who took it with a raised eyebrow. 

“Good to meet you, your dad tells me nothing but good things,” Eddie said, keeping his voice calm and even as they shook.

Danny tilted his head. “Ditto.” 

Eddie cleared his throat, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants when they separated. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Sure. Just a coke though, I’m driving tonight.” 

As he poured the soda Eddie could feel the man’s heavy gaze lingering on his face, scrutinizing him. He set the full cup down but Danny didn’t take it, instead resting his chin in his hand as he looked thoughtfully between the two of them.

Eddie topped off his tequila, and braced himself.

“So, Steve,” Danny said, addressing Steve directly for the first time. “Is this the guy?”

Steve's face, which had already been flushed and radiating discomfort, burned a bright cherry red at the question, but he didn’t shy away. He shot off a soft shy smile at Eddie as he answered. “Yeah.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open, and he nearly dropped the glass he was holding. “You told him about me?!”

“Good,” Danny said, ignoring Eddie’s outburst, holding back a laugh as he finally took a sip of his coke. “I’m really happy for you, Steve.” 

It sounded sincere enough that Eddie might have relaxed, but then the man’s gaze was swinging his way. 

“And you—I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Eddie swallowed hard, nodding absently, too stunned and confused to form any kind of verbal response.

“Well,” Danny stood abruptly, leaving his barely touched soda to sweat on the lacquered wood top. “It was nice to finally meet you, Eddie, but I think I'll get out of your hair. I should probably go see if my dad needs help with anything anyway. And it was good to see you again, Steve. I’m glad things worked out.” 

There was a beat of tense silence between them as Danny left, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Steve was falling all over himself to apologize.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea he was–” 

Eddie couldn’t help cutting him off, saying again, “You told him about me? On your date?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you! I… Eddie, you have to know. You have to know the only reason I even agreed to the date with him was to get over you, and he could tell I was distracted.”

“Oh.”

“I know we never really talked about that night, um–”

Eddie reached out, once again covering Steve’s hand with his own. “Listen, baby, I'm not upset at you, okay? I’m not gonna freak out, or run away again, or any of that, I promise you. But I don’t think I need to hear the details.”

“No, Eddie. It’s not—” Steve shook his head. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing happened. Well, um, very little happened.” 

“It’s fine, Steve. I was being an idiot then, and we weren’t—us. Whatever you did before we were together is none of my business.”

“But I couldn’t do it!” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“We were—” Steve dropped his voice down so low that Eddie had to lean in close. “We were about to, and—”

“No, stop. I don't need to hear–” Eddie pulled back suddenly, waving his hands, only to immediately lean right back in, his chin practically resting on the bar, eyes level with Steve’s. “Okay, no. I mean, yes—no. Fine! Just tell me. It can’t be worse than whatever I'm imagining.”

“Oh my god, '' Steve groaned, burying his head in his hands for a second before looking up again, peeking at Eddie between the gaps of his fingers. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but he was two fingers deep in my ass and all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be you. So I told him I needed to stop.”

“Baby,” Eddie breathed. So many emotions coloring the single word.

It was so—sweet. And yes, admittedly, relieving in a way, though he’d had no claim to Steve at the time. 

Okay, so Eddie was a fucking caveman, a jealous animal—so sue him! 

But somehow, above all the rest, it was so incredibly fucking hot to learn that his baby, his needy boy had wanted him—and only him—so badly that he’d stopped practically mid-fuck with someone else.

Eddie’s breath picked up, and he knew his eyes had gone dark and heavy lidded, his hands balled into fists so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed, drawn out and breathy, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip, leaving it wet and shining in the party lights. “Eddie, you can’t look at me like that, not when there’s hours till we’ll be home where we can do something about it.” 

Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on Steve as he shouted from the corner of his mouth to his coworker. “Hey Dawn, I’m gonna step out for a smoke, you good?”

He wasn’t even technically on the clock right now, they could manage without him for a while. 

“Yep!” The girl replied without even turning around.

Eddie untied his apron, only breaking eye contact to duck under the bar. He took Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he pulled him along towards the kitchen.  

“Where are we going?” Steve whisper-shouted from behind, barely audible over the music.

Eddie stopped just short of the swinging double doors, pulling Steve in by a belt loop to speak in his ear. “Somewhere we can do something about it.”

This late into the evening the kitchen was closed and empty of staff. The big overhead fluorescents had been shut off and every surface scrubbed to within an inch of its life, clean and gleaming in the soft glow of the emergency lights and the red exit sign on the back door.

Eddie continued to lead the way, past the prep tables and behind the line, all the way to the very back and through a heavy insulated door. 

He tried to feel bad about how unhygienic it was to do what he hoped they were about to do in here, but in his defense the food was all wrapped up or in air-tight secure containers. Also bleach existed, and Eddie was more than happy to clean up after himself.

Besides, It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen in a restaurant walk-in.

It was a frenzy from the moment the door banged shut behind them. Eddie twisted his hand into the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Their mouths connected, all tongues and teeth and hot steamy breath mingling in the frigid air. Steve’s fingers pushed into Eddie's curls, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the root, while Eddie's hands found their way to that slutty little bare strip of tummy that his boyfriend had insisted on teasing him with tonight, gripping hard on either side of Steve’s waist as he moved them further in towards the rear of the walk-in.

Steve hissed as his back hit the chilled metal of the wall, his skin breaking out in goosebumps under palms hands.

“Sorry, baby,” Eddie cooed in sympathy, grinding his own hardness against Steve’s as he nipped at his lower lip. “It was this or the bathroom, and I didn’t particularly want an audience.”

Steve pushed off the wall, grinning as he grabbed Eddie hard by the shoulders to spin them around, switching their positions and pressing him into the wall instead. 

Eddie went willingly, delighted as Steve unknowingly played right into the dynamic he was hoping for tonight, and waited for Steve’s lips to find his again, even reached out to pull the other man in again, but Steve slipped from his grip to drop straight to the floor, a desperate and hungry look in his eyes.

With well practiced fingers Steve quickly undid Eddie's jeans, yanking them down to his thighs so roughly he might have stumbled without the wall to lean against. He had a second to feel the cold air hit his most sensitive bits of bare skin before Steve swallowed him down, taking him right to the back of his throat. 

Eddie could do nothing but moan, letting his head fall back against the wall for a breath, waiting for his brain to catch up with the rest of him, so lost in the sensation of Steve's mouth, scorching where it engulfed him, that he almost forgot his surprise. 

Winding one hand through Steve's hair in encouragement, Eddie used the other to take Steve’s hand from where it rested on his thigh to guide it around to his ass. Steve only hesitated for a moment before kneading at the soft plump flesh, still bobbing his head up and down the length of Eddie’s cock, but faltered and froze as his fingers bumped up against the base of the silicone plug that had been nestled in Eddie’s hole for the last several hours.

Steve pulled off with a soft gasp, letting the tip of Eddie's cock rest on his tongue as he looked up, watching Eddie’s face with something like awe as he pushed on the plug. 

From the tips of his toes to the top of his head Eddie felt his entire body flush with a new heat, it prickled along his neck and chest, and he had to fight to keep his eyes on Steve and not let them fall shut at the sudden intensity of his need.

“Where did you get this?” Steve asked, sounding wrecked in a way that Eddie suspected had less to do with the brief blowjob, and more to do with his little stunt.

Eddie whined as Steve tugged on the toy, pulling it out about an inch before pushing it back in again, punching the air from his lungs. 

“Would you believe there’s a little mom and pop sex shop not far from here?” Eddie forced out between panted breaths.

Steve hummed, grazing his lips over the skin of Eddie’s inner thigh as he released the plug, leaving it in place for now. “I guess this town really does have it all.”

Eddie chuckled softly and reached down to pull Steve to his feet, cupping his cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. 

“Fuck me?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

Steve made a pained noise, tucking his face into Eddie’s neck, peppering kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, fuck—want it.” Eddie tilted his head back to give Steve better access to his throat. “Been thinking about you bending me over—dreaming about it.”

The words were barely out of Eddie’s mouth before Steve was growling, gripping him up again and moving him—manhandling him in a way he never had before as he gave Eddie exactly what he wanted—bending him over a low, blessedly empty shelving unit.

Steve pushed at Eddie’s shirt, dragging it roughly up and over his head before tossing it to the floor somewhere behind them. He leaned over Eddie’s back, pressing kiss after kiss down the entire length of his spine, pausing at the base of it, resting those big hands on Eddie’s ass again, spreading him wide and taking hold of the plug to gently pull it out, placing it on another nearby shelf.

Eddie swallowed back a whimper, his body clenching around nothing, suddenly empty after so many hours of being filled, but he knew what was coming would be even better, and the sound of Steve’s zipper coming undone only made him clench harder. 

Eddie flushed again, another rush of warmth as beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow in anticipation. There was a brush of rough denim against the back of his thigh, and then velvet heat as Steve pressed in close, rubbing his hard length between Eddie’s cheeks, teasing over his hole.

“Condom?” Steve asked, sounding like it was a struggle just to get the word out.

They hadn’t been using them at all since both their test results had come back clear. And Eddie could appreciate Steve wanting to make the cleanup easier on him since they were out in public for the night, but it couldn’t have been further from what he wanted.

“No,” Eddie pressed himself back, his body shuddering as the tip of Steve's cock caught on his rim. “No, wanna feel it when you come inside me for the first time.”

“Fuck, okay.” Steve sucked air in harshly through his teeth. “Lube?” 

“In my back right pocket.” 

Eddie glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Steve raise the packet to his mouth, tearing it with his teeth before pouring it over himself. Some of the cool wetness dripped down onto Eddie as well, and Steve spread it around with two fingers, pushing just the tip of one inside at first. When he was met with no resistance Steve plunged them both in at once, reaching and curling until he found that sweet spot inside Eddie that sent his eyes rolling back, and had him writhing and bucking his hips against the hard metal of the shelf. 

“Please, Steve, I’m ready,” Eddie begged. 

Mercifully, Steve didn’t make him ask twice, easing his fingers free before lining himself up, and inch by gentle inch began to push his way inside.

It felt like an eternity before Steve finally bottomed out, and Eddie wanted to cry with how good it felt to be full, really full, for the first time in he didn’t even know how long. It wasn’t something he let himself have very often. He really did prefer to top as a rule, but sometimes—sometimes he just needed it, wanted it, and tonight he also wanted to give Steve the last part of himself that he’d been holding back. 

With shallow careful thrusts Steve began to move, draping himself over Eddie’s back, pressing lips to whatever swaths of skin he could reach. 

Tears streamed from the corners of Eddie’s eyes, overcome with the feeling of being had in this new way by someone he loved, who loved him back. It felt incredible but he soon needed more. Eddie tried to rock back on instinct, but found Steve hands already on his hips, stilling him before he could move an inch.

“Steve,” Eddie whined.

Steve shushed him, rubbing small soothing circles into Eddie’s lower back with his thumbs. “You always make me feel so good, just let me return the favor.”

“I thought you were cold?” Eddie grunted, trying again to fuck himself back on Steve’s length, but the other man’s grip was like a vice.

“Not anymore,” Steve said, and Eddie could practically hear the smirk in his voice, though he did sink a little deeper, still keeping his pace frustratingly slow and even, like he was trying to drive Eddie insane. “Seeing you fall apart like this? We could be standing in the middle of a snowstorm right now and I'd still be sweating.”

And oh he’d definitely be paying Steve back for this later.  

“Baby, please,” Eddie whined again, a high-pitched, desperate sound he could hardly believe had come from his own mouth.

“How soundproof do you think this thing is?” Steve asked.

“How should I fucking know?!” Eddie growled in frustration. “Why?!”

Without warning Steve snapped his hips, slamming into him so hard that for a second Eddie couldn’t even make a sound. He threw his head back, mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure—followed by an actual scream. Steve surged forward, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, pulling his head back to hiss into his ear, hot breath ghosting over Eddie’s skin as he rammed into him again and again, hard enough to shake the shelving unit that was bolted to the floor. 

“No reason.” 

There was nothing slow or gentle about Steve after that.

For a while Eddie lost himself to the pounding rhythm and the loud slapping of flesh as Steve fucked into him impossibly harder and faster. 

He’d never last at this rate, it was just too fucking good, and he wasn’t alone. Before long Steve was reaching for him, stroking Eddie’s cock as his own breaths became ragged and he began to lose his rhythm.

With one last powerful thrust Steve came, cock pulsing violently as he buried himself deep inside, and Eddie’s last coherent thought as he followed him over that edge, losing control as he felt himself being filled up with Steve’s release, was that they really ought to switch things up more often.

Steve laid across Eddie’s back for a long minute as they both came down and caught their breath, neither really wanting to move at all, but inevitably Steve grew soft and slipped out, leaving a trickle of cum slowly leaking from Eddie’s hole in his wake.

“Eds, honey, do you have your bandana or anything on you?” Steve asked softly.

Eddie looked back, biting his lip, suddenly shy about what he wanted as the afterglow began to fade. “No, uh, but I was hoping you would plug me back up instead?”

“Jesus, Eddie. Yeah—yeah, okay,” Steve stuttered, his dick giving a valiant twitch against Eddie’s leg. 

Eddie was loose enough, and slick enough with the combined mess of cooling fluids that the plug sank home easily, and he was grateful he’d worn black jeans tonight to help mask any residual mess. 

When their pants were back in place and he’d retrieved Eddie’s shirt from the floor, Steve took him in his arms and lowered them both to the floor, cradling Eddie in his lap as he kissed his forehead.

Eddie knew the rest of the summer would go by in a flash. 

Before long the season would be over, tourism would slow as vacationers traveled home for the year, and the beaches would start to empty. 

The new school year would begin.

Though they hadn’t talked about it, Eddie had seen the note on their dresser. He knew Steve’s final interview was in two short days, and he’d be expecting an answer soon. 

And for once, the idea of it didn’t fill Eddie with panic.

He'd done his thinking. 

He’d weighed the risks and pondered the worries, done the calculations in his head and realized there had only ever been one answer to this equation. 

For now he let himself bask in the moment, so safe and comfortable in the circle of Steve’s arms, the brush of soft lips pressed to his brow.

He knew what he wanted—had known it all along.

Now he just had to find the perfect way to tell Steve.

Chapter 12

All my thanks and love to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend, and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

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[retroellie]

Cheater

Summary: When finally toe to toe with Daryl after him cheating, you are given answers you rightfully deserve

A/N: First wanted to say this fic was inspired by @starrydixon 's fic, i legit got so angsty that i wanted to write my own and my own little interpretation of it, so definitely go read theirs <3. But enjoy this complete mess i made in literally 2 hours lmao.

Warnings: Cheating and angst

Word count: 2.1K

You stood in front of him like a deer in headlights, you were terrified to even speak. The Daryl Dixon, the asshole, the cheater, the love of your life was standing in front of you, something you promised never to let happen again. This is the first time you had been in the same room after the incident, after he had told you the thing that ruined your entire life.

Part of you wished he would’ve just kept it to himself, letting you live out your perfect love life with him but part of you was so glad he told you. You would much rather be depressed the rest of your life than be looked at as a fucking clown by everyone but not know why. You hated them though, you wanted to slit his throat right here and right now, Daryl felt so bad that he’d actually let you too.

Either of you were too scared to speak, too afraid to bring up the very thing that broke your relationship in the first place. You were afraid simply because it had been going okay so far, nothing like how either you anticipated your first time seeing each other in 2 years would go. Daryl came to help with the water treatment and you were there, all sweaty and worn out. You froze when you first saw him, looking over at michonne who was looking at you looking at him.

She never even told you he had come to visit Alexandria, no warning but simply because she thought he wouldn’t stay long enough for you to see him. He just came for some supplies but ended up sticking around to help out with Alexandria, it was still his home after all. After the water treatment was finally up and going again, you did the unthinkable… you invited Daryl into your once shared home for a glass of water.

“Just to make sure the water treatment is fixed.” You tried to be cheery abit it but something about his eyes made you angry.

Why did you invite him in? You have no idea, maybe because you missed his presence or you wanted to ask the questions that were constantly running through your head or maybe you just wanted to kill him then and there. Daryl was hesitant but he would not pass up the chance to spend time with you, before or after even if he felt terrible for what he did to you.

So here you were, standing in front of him, watching him look at anything but your eyes. Good, he didn’t deserve to look into your eyes after what he did. The house was silent as you drank your waters, neither one of you wanted to bring it up but you decided to rip off the bandaid before it got worse.

“How long did it last?” You asked, the only thing coming out of your mouth in the past 10 minutes.

Daryl could’ve played stupid but he knew what you meant, he knew the answer would leave you more devastated too. Daryl racked his brain to give an exact estimate of how long and each answer created a deep puncture in his chest.

“6 months.” He said plainly, his eyes dropping down to his now empty glass.

Your entire body had gone frozen, your heart crack open more and more as the answer lingered through the air. You knew It was long but 6 months was too long. Your first 6 months with Daryl he had told you he loved you, he fucked you like there was no tomorrow and his told you it would only be you and him for the rest of your lives. What did she get in those 6 months? Did she get the same treatment? What could’ve possibly happened in those 6 months?

“6 months?!?” You damn near yelled, making it known how upset you were.

Daryl just kept his eyes down, he felt so ashamed of himself and he knew you were too. He didn’t speak, just let you have your moment because after all he’s done… you deserve that. Now the question we’re piling up in your head, you didn’t just want answers now you needed them. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and asked another question.

“What was her name?” You asked, not even knowing if you wanted the answer.

“Leah,” he said without letting the question linger for too long.

“Did you live together?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

You questioned him rapidly, not even taking a break before going on to the next. You felt you deserved these answers after the long 2 years of them burning in your brain. You asked about her, you asked about him and you asked about what they were. With every answer, even if they were yes and no’s, your heart would break more and more. You needed that though, you needed Daryl to break your heart so you felt sick even looking at him, just so you could move on and heal.

“Why?” Was the only thing you said, no context to what you meant but somehow Daryl knew.

He thought about it, he had no idea why… it just happened. That question had him frozen, struck on the biggest question you’ve asked so far. He racked his brain, trying to find the words for how he really felt and why the hell he did something so stupid. He was stupid was plain and simply put an answer but you deserved an explanation. He finally got the courage to look at you standing there, eyes streaked with tears as you grabbed onto your own hoodie violently. Daryl still thought you were the most beautiful thing but right now he felt he didn’t even deserve to see you.

“I’m stupid y/n, I really am but when Rick disappeared I was sad. I don’t know why but I still had hope he was still out there and I knew I was going out all the time to hurt you, I could feel you getting more distant.” He paused, racking his brain to find more words. “You got so distant that I thought you wanted me out of your life so I did, I stopped coming around because I couldn’t bear to see ya. Then Leah showed up. I knew that when me and you first met, the thing we had with each other, the love we made and the memories, it filled a hole in me… you filled a hole in me Y/N. I was expecting the same thing to happen with Leah, I thought the hole you used to fill could be filled with another person… but it can’t.”

You sobbed even more, tears rushing down your face and you couldn’t even stop them anymore. Daryl’s words were something you needed but when you got it, you couldn’t handle it. His words were too much, they didn’t make you feel any better but only worse. He tried to replace you, he needed to replace you when you needed him the most. You craved him back then, you just wanted your stupid boyfriend to hold you for a while because Rick's death didn’t only hurt Daryl.

Rick was your brother, not by blood but by souls he was. He cared for you, he made sure you were safe and he even saved you in so many ways, even from yourself. So when he died, you couldn’t… you were depressed and Daryl leaving all the time did not help, Daryl was looking for ghosts when you needed him the most.

“I needed you Daryl…I needed you and you weren’t there.” You said simply, shoving your face in your hands as you continued to sob.

Your sobs broke Daryl, he could feel his tears starting to spill over his eyes. He never meant to hurt you, as a matter of fact he promised he would never hurt you and as if you needed more of a reason not to trust anyone again… he broke that promise. He deserved to rot with the walkers for what he did to you and hell he even tried at one point, but he wouldn’t hurt you again… you couldn’t handle another death.

“I’m going to ask one more question Daryl….” You said, taking in a breath before asking. “Did you love her?”

He wanted to laugh at that thought, him loving Leah?? Impossible. He fucked her, he cuddled her, he even let her say he was hers but he knew deep down… He was yours, always and forever. Even if you don’t forgive him now, he will always be yours no matter what. You found him at his worst, you gave him a chance and he fell in love with you. He had never felt that way about someone before, let alone someone like you. A pretty, smart and strong person like you… he never even would’ve thought you would give him the chance you did.

“No… I couldn’t.” He stated, voice cracking as his tears continued to flow down his cheeks.

“You couldn’t?” You asked, confused about what the fuck he meant. Daryl was never good with words and you knew it too.

“I just couldn’t, deep down I knew it was always you I wanted and loved. Y/N what I did wasn’t because I stopped loving you, I did it because I loved you and the feeling you gave me was too good… too pure and when I thought I lost it, I had to get it again but I couldn’t.” He started, explaining himself with words but not even knowing if he was saying anything right.

You stayed silent, the words engraving themselves into your brain. You just sat there, looking down at your shaking hands. You never knew a man could do this to you, leave your sobbing and shaking as he explained why he couldn’t love anyone else but you. You couldn’t forgive Daryl, you couldn’t… you had a soft spot for him but it wasn’t that soft, you wouldn’t just let him break you down again like that.

“I’ll leave you alone…” Daryl set his glass down, picking up his things before turning for the door.

“Daryl!” You yelled before he could even step another foot away from you. Daryl stopped in his tracks, turning once again to face you.

“If you step outside that door… I swear on everything  you will never see me again, and I promise you that I will not let you step foot back into Alexandria… you know I have that power to do so.” You threatened, you were angry… he was leaving you again.

“You want me to stay?” He asked, adjusting the crossbow on his shoulder uncomfortably.

“No… no, yes… I mean FUCK! Daryl I want you to stop leaving me, stop running away from us Daryl!” You yelled, not even sure what you meant. “I fucking hate you Daryl… I fucking hate you so very fiber in my body but not because you ruined what we had.. but because after everything you put me through, I’m still so madly and pathetically in love with you.”

You were quite literally pouring your heart out for Daryl and he took it all in, he just hates that he was the one who caused you to do this. You weren’t sure what you wanted but right now you knew you didn’t want Daryl to leave you alone again, you have been alone for too long and you needed him here again but if he left once again you couldn’t bear it.

“So please Daryl… please just stay with me, don’t leave me again.”

Daryl couldn’t bear to see you like this, your eyes wet with tears and lips red from your biting them… what’s worse is that he caused this. He didn’t know what to do in the situation but what he did he for sure thought was the right thing to do. He dropped all this stuff, engulfing you in a hug as you sobbed. You didn’t know if you should hug back or not but you were too broken down, too afraid and too fucking sad to push him away. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him close to you like it was your last time seeing him.

His hands made their way up to your hair, lightly scratching your scalp because he knew you liked that. You just buried your tear streaked face into his shirt, causing his shirt to become damp.

“I’m here bunny… I’m not leaving again…” he said, cringey at the pet name but you needed it right now, you needed to know he was there with you.

You were not sure if this was going to spark something once again between you two, you had no idea but having Daryl here with you and speaking to you like he once did, it caused your thoughts to stop for a minute… letting you just feel the way you used to for a minute. If all you got was 2 more minutes of that feeling, you were okay with it.

[occasionallyprosie]

"Harmless Little Lies"

Warriors was wandering one of Legend's era's towns when a paper on the notice board caught his attention. WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE LINK (OF KAKARIKO) REWARD: 5,000 And the image on the wanted poster was undoubtedly their veteran, followed by a list of extensive crimes… He tore the poster from the notice board and went to find the man whose image it held. He wanted to know exactly why Legend was wanted for serial murder, kidnapping, and several other crimes.

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 6: "You lied to me."

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3 Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence

Warriors put a paper onto the bar beside Legend, a near glare aimed at him while the veteran hardly glanced up.

"What is this?" Warriors demanded.

"I'm a bit busy," Legend said, pulling a needle through fabric, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.

Warriors shoved the paper in his face and forced him to redirect his attention.

"What is this?"

Legend met his eyes over the waved paper. "A wanted poster."

Warriors glared.

He rolled his eyes. "My wanted poster?"

"Why do you have a wanted poster?"

Legend sighed. "Because we haven't gotten around to taking them all down yet. I was framed and even then, Zelda pardoned me. It's not a big deal and nobody cares anymore."

A few days later, Legend found himself separated from the other heroes and unsurprisingly he was promptly cornered by guards.

He decided a long time ago not to fight his way out of these things, these men's minds were altered, they literally weren't themselves and... he'd already killed far too many technically innocent knights because of this damned irreversible spell.

So he complied, he'd escape overnight easily enough. He usually did, sometimes it was harder than usual for... various reasons.

The moment they relieved him of his items and supplies, he had a feeling it would be harder to escape than usual this time. He was full on thrown into the back wall of a cell, stars filling his vision and losing the air in his lungs. The following kick to his ribs further cemented that feeling as fact. Some guard stations were more violent than others... some beat him within an inch of his life. It made it hard to get up and keep going, but he had defeated Ganon when he was beaten down and within an inch of his life, he had cleared whole dungeons, he could escape a drunken guard station.

When they finally left, he couldn't bring himself to move for a while. It may have been an hour, he wasn't certain, but it took a while before he could force himself to move past the pain and broken bones and blood filling his lungs.

When he finally stood, he mentally amended his internal tracker of "how many days it had been since he had internal bleeding" from 17 weeks, aka since his last encounter with guards and getting caught, to 0. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as blood bubbled up and tinted his skin further red and a bit of black.

Great, he thought blandly. This might not be a one potion fix, and he really didn't need to deal with--

"You lied to me. Not a big deal, vet? Nobody cares anymore?"

--the other heroes finding out. The one knight Legend wasn't expecting to see was Warriors, yet when he looked up and strained to focus his eyes, that's who stood on the other side of the bars.

"Geez, you look awful," he realized, frowning.

Legend glared, letting his vision unfocus and lessening the throbbing in his head. "No, really? Get away from the door."

"Why--I have the keys."

He snorted, ignoring the flash of pain as he slumped against the back wall. "Am I supposed to believe you paid bail?"

"Yes," Warriors said bluntly.

He let out a laugh that quickly descending into a painful, coughing fit that sprayed blood over his hand and the ground in front of him.

"Oh shit!" The door clicked unlocked and when he glanced up, hands were coming toward him. He couldn't help but flinch away.

Warriors froze.

Legend wheezed, wiping his face of blood and likely just smearing it. "Calling me a liar, Captain? They still arrest me even though the Queen pardoned me. Nobody could pay my bail. You..." he swallowed the bubbling blood. "You stole those keys."

Oh this wasn't good. He needed to move and get a potion, now.

He tried to stand.

"Whoa, hey don’t do that. Oh golden three, what did they do to you?" Warriors whispered, Legend still heard him even beyond the cotton in his head, his vision began to tunnel and his attempt to stand was shattered by his legs giving out. "Vet!"

The older hero caught him but not without jostling his ribs into stabbing his lungs further, sparking pain throughout his whole body. A pained cry escaped him.

"Oh goddess--Hey, it's going to be okay, just hold on a moment. I'll get you--"

The cell door suddenly slammed shut, a bark of laughter outside and Legend managed to try and focus enough to see a knight outside.

"Seems the criminal actually has friends, too bad that it's not enough to overcome a Knight of Hyrule," the man taunted.

Warriors snarled. "No knight would do this to anyone, convict or not."

"That brat kidnapped the princess and killed dozens of our men, he deserves any fate he's given so long as it hurts."

The guard left, despite Legend hearing Warriors yell after him.

He needed to move. He had the magic, he wasn't good at controlling it unfocused but he could explode the door if he just got up.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just breathe, you’re going to be okay," Warriors promised him.

"I--" blood leaked from the edge of his mouth. "I-I can break the door. S-Stay behind me."

"Vet no! I'll figure something out, just save your strength!" Warriors pleaded, but as Legend fought to stand, he helped him.

Legend held a hand out to the door and a blast of pure magic exploded it off the hinges and broke the doorway too, it slammed into the far wall.

Blood trickled from his nose and his headache increased tenfold. Warriors caught him as he nearly collapsed.

"C-Cap'n... I don'..." he wheezed and choked. Oh goddesses he couldn't see anything anymore, just blurred blobs of color.

"No, hey, it's going to be alright. You're going to be perfectly fine, I swear. It's okay."

Warriors picked him up and he whined, his senses overwhelmed with pain and blinding him for a moment.

"Don't--Don't lie to me," he murmured. "I'm... I know what dying feels like."

It felt like acid in his veins, it felt like fire on his skin, it felt like water in his lungs and panic in his mind. Dying was painful and suffocating.

His throat filled with blood. His body stopped registering the pain.

His head dropped against Warriors chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart but not hearing the begs to open his eyes.

"You lied to me," those were the first words Warriors spoke upon finding him in that cell.

Ha, Legend thought, a bit amused, you lied to me, actually...

You promised I'd be alright.