#my lawn is covered in bones

[thy-fucks-runneth-dry]

Sevin and kuro are dog besties probably

I should draw a size chart for sevins were-form bcs she is like...huge. very big dog

[the-ipre]

You've broken someone else's bone???

[id: the "say the line bart" meme edited to say "say the line ash." bart says "well i've never broken one of my OWN bones" and the class cheers /end id]

thank you to my lovely partner for making this <3 and yes i broke both bones in my sisters forearm when she was in 4th grade and i was in 2nd grade <3

[fuctacles]

wiggly wormy wednesday

Thanks @formosusiniquis for tagging me!!! Here's a thing inspired by that one fanart of Eddie in that one t-shirt that I can't find now

Steve works during the summer as a pool boy. 

It's a good ego boost as he's been in high demand among the housewives in the area. His schedule is full, to the point he has to start declining some offers to have time for himself. When his phone rings with another job offer, he doesn't reject it right away because he's startled to hear a man's voice for a change. Then he hears he'll double the salary and he agrees. 

The address he jotted down leads him to the oldest mansion in town, dark and looming over the neighborhood. He understands the raise in money now and is glad that he told Robin where he'll be. 

The gate is open, so he pushes his way through the artfully neglected garden towards the door, where a note is waiting for him.

You'll find cleaning tools in the shed. Knock on the back door when you're done.

Steve knew of eccentric old people but this one was slowly taking the cake. He rounds the estate to find the pool behind it, and the cake is pulled out of his grip. Who in their right mind paints the pool red? 

By the state it's in, it probably hasn't been used in weeks. The surface is fully covered in leaves and twigs, and the tiles around it are covered in grime. It's a wild 180 after being called to clean pools just so he can hand out sodas and towels to a group of old ladies, but he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

Every now and then, he looks up from his work, expecting to find someone ogling him, but he never finds anyone. It's a weird thing to consider a constant of his job, but he came to expect it. Double-checking that he's really alone, he starts humming to himself to make the time go faster. If he's ever called here again, he might take a radio or a walkman with him. 

He's done surprisingly fast, with the sun still high when he goes to knock on the back door. His curiosity is through the roof to see what kind of person his employer is. 

He hears a click by his feet and when he looks down, he realizes the cat door has spat out an envelope. Inside he finds his payment and a note. 

Will double it if you come at 5pm next week

So Steve does, not worried much because the sun is still up, even if it casts ominous shadows around the mansion. 

In one of these dark corners, he spots a lawn chair, the shade doubled with a huge umbrella over it. He wonders if this time, some rich lady is going to join him. Or, the tiny bi-curious bone in his body supplies, the guy who hired him. For the time being, he focuses on his task. 

It's so dark, that he almost misses it. But when he does a double take as he's swiping the poolside, he yells. 

On the chair in the double shade, wearing all black, a huge straw hat, and sunglasses, sits a figure. Steve's eyes are confused as to why they're seeing a black-and-white picture in the middle of his technicolor world. 

The figure raises its hand, making its features more distinguishable. 

"Sorry!" says a voice Steve vaguely recognizes from the phone call. "Don't mind me, just getting my money's worth!" The man grins, sharp and bright, and relaxes against the chair with intent to stay, a glass of wine held in his hand.

Steve considers him for all of two seconds, before grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fuck it. This is what half of the job is about anyway.

The fabric hits the ground, and he gets a surprisingly goofy whoop of approval. 

tagging if u wanna join: @stevesjockstrap @yesdangerpls @stevieharringtonwifeguy @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @adverbally

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How To Adapt To Fire (III)

AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, death/gore, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, attempted murder, burns, needles, injuries, one dirty joke, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Running, the wind whips past your face with the force of a hurricane. 

The screams echoed over the abandoned neighborhood, leaking and rising as the illumination of a burning body sent slashing shadows along the remnants of houses. Flailing arms and sizzling flesh. It followed you as your feet slapped the concrete, satchel still at your side and your breath echoing in your ears. 

You don’t know where Duncan is—and you dare not look behind you as you dart into someone’s lawn, bee-lining away from Kurt’s now-silent inferno of burnt hair and cooking meat. Grass that grows up to your knees is shoved aside, broken down to the earth as your panting breath is too loud in your ears. It’s all you can hear now, which may be the worst part.

“Holy fuck,” your hiss under your breath, sweat dripping down your neck. Your hands were skinned in your little fall off the steps, but the sting as you slap your palm to the side of one of the houses is lost to you—pain doesn’t matter when adrenaline takes over. “Holy fuck.”

Your fingers drip crimson along the siding, but you’re gone again with ragged inhales, snapping eyes wide. You need to try and circle back for the car, you tell yourself. Patting your pockets for the hard pressure of your keys, you dash past a trash can and sigh when you feel them still there. 

And then you hear the whistling. 

It’s over the air, and in a skid of shoes, you halt and listen intently—a bird in the eyes of a fox. Lungs heaving, your head jerks around as a tune wafts up and pierces your ears. The sound echoes over the houses, flying across fallen roofs and peeling paint. You’re frozen, night corralling you in. 

“Who does this dude think he is?” You ask, a deep fear in your heart and an eerie feeling up your spine. 

It was getting closer. 

Heart stuttering, your legs take you up the back steps of a house to your left, hand snapping to the rusted handle and shoulder ramming into it. It gives way on the second shove, slamming into the far wall before you hit the ground and push on once more, the air gone from your body.

If Duncan can murder his own cousin in the way he had…what could he do to you?

Feet shuffling, your head moves quickly, taking in the decaying living room and joint kitchen—falling stairs that you instantly choose to run up, hands burning. 

Your only hope was the car; you needed to get to a vantage point, find out where Duncan was, and try to avoid him. It wasn’t any different than what you’d seen on TV…right? 

The wooden floor creaks like brittle bones, and you move across it while the scent of fire is still in your nose—gasoline and dead eyes. Your eyes go from one open door to another, beds covered with moth-eaten sheets. From outside of a broken window, you see shadows along the street; whistling. 

You choose a room at random and slink inside, hands already jerking into your satchel and pushing aside the active recorder—reaching for your phone. 

Looking between the window and the device, your dripping fingers slash through contacts until you can find the only one you think to call immediately. 

Smashing down on the green button, your phone is right at your ear as your heartbeat pulses like a drum. As it sits there, you gaze outside, panting with blood smearing along your flesh. You can’t stop thinking about Kurt—how you’d seen a man get burnt alive in front of you as if it were nothing. You’d heard and witnessed a lot of things and had been in more courtrooms than you can count…but nothing would ever top seeing the whites of a man’s eyes as his body erupted into flames. 

“Okay, okay,” the phone quivers, clothes ruffled. You hiss softly, not willing to make more noise than you have to. “C’mon, MacTavish.”

A long shadow looms in the streetlight and you drop to the floor swiftly, knees slamming the wood, just as the click on the line pushes through.

“Dearie,” the Scot’s teasing voice is a godsend. “Didn’t expect you to call so soon. Not that I—”

“I fucked up,” you breathe, and the fireman’s audible snapping of his mouth would have been comedic in any other situation. “I really fucked up, and I think I need a little intervention here before I literally go up in the flames of my ambition.”

You’re talking so fast you doubt he can even understand you, but you continue as your forehead peaks above the window frame. 

Duncan is at the house next to where you’re hiding. Standing out front with a gas can in his hand and a matchbox in the other. You watch with horrified eyes as he walks to the front porch, pours the accelerant, and steps back to light a match. 

“Oh,” you growl through a hurried gasp. “So now he decides to change M.O.”

The neighbor's home alights. 

He’s trying to corner you.

Johnny’s panicked voice wafts through. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen,” you watch the fire spread, hands spasming. “I was going to wait for you, alright. J-just then I decided to not do that and I—”

“What the fuck!” There’s fast movement on the other side of the line, seemingly paper and pencils hitting the floor as fast feet slam the ground. 

“It’s not my fault I’m a stubborn bitch!” You snap, moving your free hand to the back of your neck and rubbing along the sweat there, smearing crimson. “I can’t get back to the car right now and Duncan is lighting the entire neighborhood on fire to try and catch me. I have all of it on the recorder, and I can’t lose the evidence for the inevitable court case.”

Johnny’s voice is so serious and hard, you know you’ve never seen a side like this from him before. It’s nearly a growl. “I don’t give a shit about fucking evidence. Where are you?”

You rattle off Kurt’s address from memory, face streaked with light from the fire. It was going to spread to this house. The wood is like free food just waiting for it willingly; you have to move before it catches. With the condition of the home, it would only be kindling for a larger blaze ready to overtake the street. 

Johnny’s voice is heavy. “Stay where you are and—”

Your laugh is grim, and you move out of the room rapidly as the boom of falling wood makes the ground shake. Breath nothing more than a shaky jump in your nose, you push out, “Not an option.”

“What do you mean ‘not an option’ what the hell is going on over there?! I swear, I told you not to go without me!” 

“Bring the fire trucks! All of them!” You shout and hang up swiftly as Johnny’s loud call of your name is silenced. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when the back door you’d previously busted through creaks on its hinges. 

Above fire, above the pattering of your pulse, your eyes are stuck-still. Stationary. Stiff. 

Duncan stares at you—and you stare at him. 

It’s like time utterly stops, hit in the face by a metal pipe before its teeth get knocked to the ground in a clatter of white enamel. Shell-shocked. 

Your phone rings again—Johnny, no doubt, but when it does, Duncan pounces.

He tosses the gas canister to the ground, followed by a quick match as you curse and race back upstairs. The whoosh of flames bursts into existence as hard boots follow after you, hot on your heels. 

“Shit!” You yell, calling out a firm and fearful, “Duncan!” 

A hand swipes at your shirt collar before you duck and pivot, shifting to brace your feet and ram your shoulder backward. The man takes the force right to the chest and shouts, tilting on the steps with a flailing arm, fingers that card through the air. 

But you’re not quick enough in the rabid getaway. 

A hand latches onto your wrist, and then you’re being yanked down with him into the awaiting arms of the burning fire.

—

Johnny’s whole heart is more active than when he and you were stuck in the sheets together—arousal is nothing compared to the fear he feels. 

The man’s legs carry him quickly into the engine room, grabbing gear and sending out the alarm. Already calls were coming in from dispatch, worried civilians who had said they’d seen what appeared to be twin fires off into the more abandoned parts of the left-to-rot suburbs. 

His panic extends to the next country it’s so far-reaching. Your call—your voice—the things you’d told him and, worse, what you hadn’t. 

Why did you have to be so stubborn?

He needs to get to you, and he can’t breathe properly until he does.

It doesn’t take the firemen long to get into the trucks—the red demons rocketing out of the station with every blaring alarm at their disposal, and at every bump, Johnny’s stiff eyes glare openly at his lap. The others dare not say anything to him; they all know that look.

A man on the edge of a fraying line. Stuck on the knife—waiting for the final twist. 

With all of the gear, MacTavish could be compared to someone heading straight into war, and with the following wail of police sirens, maybe war was where he was always meant to be. Johnny fidgets, his fingers clenching and unclenching above the meat of his thighs, helmet on his head nothing but a weight of reminder. He was there to stop fires—he was there to put them out. 

But even God knew that the second his boots hit the ground, and the rest of the firemen were grabbing the hoses, he would be running into that inferno without a second glance backward. 

Johnny was born and bred from fire, and at the very end of it, the flames would take him back.  

Not yet, he’d say. Not until she’s safe. 

The Scot grabs the face-piece at his feet, fixes it over his visage, and listens to his own rabid breath echo back to him. It was louder than any other sound he’d ever heard.

The shaking of his fingers is a traitorous beast.

—

Dragging an arm over the ground, the first thing you do is cough through black smoke. 

Mind delirious, you blink rapidly, stinging eyes unwilling to stay open for long simply due to the spike of irritation—instinctual tears blurring the few moments of clarity to be offered.

You choke on nothing and burn through all of it. 

Flopping, you force your body up onto its hands and knees, the world tilting even then as palms drag and fingers dig. The second your tears slap your knuckles, a leg to your ribs is kicking you back down. 

Yelling in pain, you sprawl to your spine, body bouncing as the sound of fire eating away drywall and dead wood sizzle in your eardrums. Your skin is sweltering, and you can’t stop the flood of sweat dripping off your flesh—it nearly hurts.

Head shaking, wet hands grasp at your wrists forcing them back. 

“You could have left,” Duncan hisses above the waves of spreading fire. If you wanted to live, you had to get out now. The very bones of this house are threatening to buckle like the spine of an old man—visible rafters beginning to cave. Splintering wood. Creaking. “You could have stayed out of it!”

You yell, legs kicking out with the strength you can muster above the carbon monoxide coursing through your blood. Your muscles need oxygen. You need to breathe.

Your lungs are too tight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Cursing, your body lashes, Duncan and yourself battling along the burning ground as the roof across the room caves in, sending ashes and a large tsunami of orange rolling ever upwards and a shockwave that gives a sliver of an opportunity. 

The both of you hiss, arms moving up to protect your faces. 

Your clothes are ruined—ripped; torn. You don’t even care about any of it. There’s a ferality to you now, a bleeding fear that far drowns even the blood of your skinned hands. As you’re trying to stand again, Duncan tries to barrel into you. 

“I warned you to stop looking into it!” He rages. “Look what you made me do! I killed Kurt because of you!”

You grapple for your satchel, his shadow nearly on top of you before your arms flex and spring like the trigger of a pistol. Swinging the bag back, you send it in an arch with your hands gripping the tough material. The heavy thump and grunt resonates quickly as you hack again, sirens just beginning in the distance totally lost to you. 

“Maybe,” you speak on smoke-tight airways—a heavy wheeze as the fire licks your arms. You shout, almost dropping your bag. “You shouldn't fucking kill people!” 

Your hands grasp the satchel once more, lifting and striking down as Duncan yowls, finally grabbing it and tearing it out of your hands. He wraps his arms around your waist and sends you both directly into the heart of the blaze with an animalistic shove.

Crashing, the immediate flush of fire is so hot that it’s cold—like you’re plunged into ice, even as you feel your skin sizzle. Yet, the resounding scream is nothing compared to the roar of rage as an axe is taken to the last standing wall of the house. 

You fight with Duncan all the while the heat overtakes you, clawing and yelling; nothing more than a banshee of snapping teeth and hatred. The man forces you down, the warmth cooking the skin of your back one patch of flesh and fabric at a time. 

Fingers curl your throat as you dig your thumbs into your aggressor's eyes, choking; wheezing. Black begins to settle in front of your hazy vision, seconds leaning into longer glimpses of moving shadows and growing pain—a pain that adrenaline can only do so much against. And then, just before Duncan’s blood can drip down to your face, his eyes leaking and red, he’s ripped off in a flurry of fast hands and muffled calls. 

An oxygen mask flashes across your dying field of view, and a helmet—a fireproof jacket. Wide, panicked cobalt eyes. And yelling…so much yelling. All of it is stuck behind material that makes it sound like there are voices hidden underwater. 

Hands skimming your shoulders, dragging you out quickly as your bloody fingers grasp in dying panic—fading senses. There are others too, three inside of this house all frantically moving. Ducan is being restrained as well as he’s able to be, dragged back with two sets of hands—one on his shoulders the other on his legs like a child. 

You, on the contrary, get taken up in a fast set of arms more bulky than they are not, shoving you into a heavy chest until your face is hidden into a neck protected by a high collar. 

“Pencils!” Your body burns, and your face contorts as your focus can finally bleed into it. 

Shaking—quivering, your ears are ringing and the rushing feet below you jostle your form. 

Finally making it outside, it’s not a moment later that the entire house falls into itself, a tomb of fire and near death—lost to all but ash. Sirens are suddenly louder; shrill voices. 

Johnny’s hurried voice, and the sound of a mask being ripped off of his face. “Medic!” 

You pant, mouth opening but no words coming out beyond a sharp gasp for fresh air. Something is fitted over your face before you’re lying down on a cot, and your fingers reach but meet air. Head craning up, you blink just in time to see it as the EMTs begin jogging over to their ambulance. Johnny moves and grabs his helmet and throws it to the ground, barking something so loud that you’re broken mind can pick it up.

“Give the fucker to me!” The accent makes it all the more violent, and as your oxygen mask is strapped to your head, you stare owlishly, visage awash with blood and tears. You don’t even want to look down at yourself, and in this haze, you’re not even sure you’d be able to. 

But you can see the rabid events unfolding like your very own TV show. 

Firemen try to grapple Johnny back, but it’s useless to try and stop a brick wall. The Scot shoves one away before his gloved fingers snatch a restrained Duncan, and throws him up on his charred legs.

Senselessly, the arsonist smiles—it’s a distant, psychotic thing. 

“You know the journalist—” A fist is sent hurtling into his face.

Falling back, Duncan cries out as his nose breaks in multiple places; shattering like glass under the force of a steel hammer. 

“Get over ‘ere.” Johnny’s voice is raspy; guttural. You cough and the EMTs connect an IV to your arm, quickly nearing the ambulance as they try to coax you to lay back down. “Bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bending above Duncan’s body, MacTavish gets in two more sharp blows before he’s torn away with yells and orders—shoved with appeasing pats to his arms and desperate pleas to hold out. 

The police rush over, restraining Duncan and forcing his unconscious body to the side. Blood stains the ground, and the fires continue to blaze—others in the background trying to push it back. 

Chest heaving, your throat is raw, but even so, as the EMTs can’t stop you from weakly peeling back the oxygen mask, you call hoarsely, “Johnny!”

You’re loaded into the ambulance just as his eyes snap over, his chest rising and flailing through all of that gear still visible. Calming words find your ears as the medics move the oxygen back over your nose and mouth, holding it so you can’t take it off again. 

The back door is about to be slammed shut before the familiar square face bullies itself in. 

“Sir, you can’t—!”

“Drive,” the fireman shuffles into the seat directly across from you as large, damp, rags are set over your flesh in quick succession as you hiss, eyes flinching shut. Johnny grunts at the EMT who blinks quickly before he twitches at the sound of your pain; jaw clenching. “...Before I get into that seat myself.” 

The engine rumbles to life, and Johnny’s the one who takes your hand into his and drops his tone—moving closer. It takes a moment for his worry to be shoved behind a lens of surety, not for himself, but for you. 

The uncertainty in your eyes made him want to storm backward and show Duncan what fists can do when that’s all you have to rely on instead of cowardice. Fire was a tool of a weakling, and no man was weaker than one who tried to murder someone like you and your bright intellect. But there was no use thinking about it now.

“Oh, Hen,” Johnny’s voice cracks, eyes glancing you up and down quickly as the EMTs do their work. You wouldn’t be awake much longer—if you managed to fight the pain, they’d put you to sleep for your own safety. 

The burns were…they weren’t good.

“Hey, now,” the fireman eases, forcing a small smile and capturing your ash-smeared cheek. He doesn’t care about the state of his gear—the heavy oxygen tank on his back—all he needs is to hold you; even as little as this. “You just let those boys do their jobs, yeah? They’ll have you back up in no time at all, Pencils. Breathe for me, Dearie.” 

Your fast breaths stutter and the scrape of your vocal cords makes Johnny flinch, his eyelids pulling in as a grimace shifts the lines of his face. 

The man fights with himself to snap at the others and make them tell the driver to push the gas harder. He knows they’re going as fast as they’re able.

You try to speak, but Johnny shuts it down with a firm shake of his head. Seeing the packages of sterile bandages being unpacked with rapid hands, knowing the sting that will follow as they’re placed on leaking skin, the Scot moves closer and lightly shields your vision of it.

“No, c’mon now, don’t speak.” An unsteady smirk. “I know I take your breath away, but let's just wait until you’re at the hospital for all of that, eh?”

At the jerky glare coming off of you, a sliver of his panic leaves him.

Johnny tries a weak chuckle before it falls flat. 

Your eyes pick up on the agony before the black at the sides of your vision sweeps in—taking you away as the first press of wrappings along your back make themselves known. His hand stays firm at your cheek; thumb moving over the skin until that’s all you can focus on anymore. 

His touch. Not the fire’s—not Duncan’s. His. The same man that held you close and watched your back. Who had run into a burning house for your safety even if that was his job to do so. 

Johnny seems to be thinking the same because before your head goes limp against the cot, the familiar drawl sings you to sleep.

“…I would have searched that house for you until it fucking took me with it.”

—

The voice recordings from your charred satchel were in police custody, just as Duncan was. 

Along with the thick bindings that had taken home along your back and the upper part of your shoulders, there were others. Your voice was still a crackling mess—as if the fire had left behind a remnant of itself there, an ever-bending and shifting shard directly in your throat. Not even water could get rid of the itch, but you’d been told it would get better. 

All things considered, it could have been worse. 

There was a shit load to do—to explain. Duncan's involvement as well as the deceased Kurts, whose face still haunts you even now; it probably always will. 

Johnny’s shadow flashes in front of yours and you blink quickly, clearing your head. A pause emanates, and the man’s brows tighten. 

“What?” You try to clear your throat and grimace, the hospital bed uncomfortable for you. You’d much rather prefer Johnny’s. 

“I asked you if you’d want any more blankets, Bonnie,” the Scot’s head tilts. He hums. “More medicine? Feeling alright?” 

“So doting,” you huff, fingers rubbing at your neck before Soap sighs and stands from the side chair he’d been in. “No, I’m…fine.”

“My job.” Johnny grunts and his hand pushes away your own, fingers finding the spot that itches internally and carefully massaging until you’re like putty in his hands. In fact, you nearly purr before you sag into him, eyelids drooping. There’s a smug glance tossed your way. “And I don’t mean to brag, but I think I’m doin’ pretty good.”

Your lips pull, vision slipping upward. “Careful, people will think I got married over the span of three days.”

Johnny blinks, “Didn’t we?”

Your face burns. “No, MacTavish we did not. Hot-head. All the fumes go straight to your head, I swear.” All the talking was only aggravating your voice, but for the life of you, you can’t stop. 

Johnny rolls his eyes, skull tilting. A bead of serious talk leeks in as his fingers shift from your throat to your head, tips stimulating your scalp which you hum approvingly to. “What’s the plan?”

You think for a moment, letting the man come and lay a firm kiss on your temple. Your heart knows he intends to stay with you through all of this—already he’d been out on paid leave about the whole ‘attacking a restrained man’ fiasco. The bastard deserved it, Johnny had growled to you yesterday as he helped you drink water. You had to agree. 

“Sleep,” your answer is soft and simple. There was no use fretting about the whims of a far-off tomorrow. The future is a fickle creature, ever changing shape to fit the image it wants to play with like a doll at the nearest moment—there was never a pen in your pocket that was trying to jot down its profile; to understand it. Johnny was here, the bed was warm, and his hands were kind. 

That was all you needed.

Cobalt eyes stare for a moment at your response, before the Scot chuckles. “...Well, I can’t fight you there.”

Your hand lightly snares his wrist, and you pull him to you, letting his body melt back onto the bed until you can rest your temple on his shoulder and sigh out your tension. Johnny’s arm curls carefully to rest on your lower back, as delicate as glass. 

It’s a while before he speaks again. 

“You really did worry me,” he whispers, staring into the ceiling and trying to make images out of the shadows on the ceiling. “If I hadn’t gotten there…”

“You did,” you utter, eyes half-closed and fingers rubbing at his stomach. He shivers. “One-way road, Johnny. Stop that.”

“Doesn't make me feel any better when you’re stuck in here for two more weeks.” A smile pulls your face and he glances down, feeling it against his shirt. “...What are you smiling about?”

You hide it into his chest and he shakes his head in exasperation, scoffing.

“I swear, I’m the only one who cares about your safety and then I get mocked for it.”

“M’not mocking you,” your muffled voice grumbles out. “You’re just pouting.”

Johnny grunts, rolling his eyes. “Course.”

“Proving my point.”

“Next time I leave,” Soap’s lips are atop your head, muttering. “I’ll be tying you to the bed and watching you through the camera.”

A thin trail of jumpy laughter echoes out into the halls of the hospital, and your response is just as quick as it always is—as it always would be through Hell and high water. This wasn’t an ideal situation, and there would be more trials to come both literally and metaphorically, but Johnny made for a good rock through all of it. 

He certainly was a better informant than you intended him to be. 

“Ooo, Mr. MacTavish,” a loud groan, laced with a fond, almost worshiped, adoration. “I didn’t know you could be so risqué.” 

TAGS:

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[anitalenia]

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮. ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 sukuna.

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑡 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅. ˚୨୧⋆｡

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sukuna and you had something, could call it love, before you left him, but he was too obsessed with power, mad with the idea of being king again and killing all those Jujutsu high kids who always seemed to foil his plans. still, he came to you when he needed to, and you didn’t make any complaints. until one night he comes to you once more, realizing what he lost and missing what he had.

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sweet sukuna, injured sukuna, makeup sex in a way, soft + rough-ish sex, kissing + making out, hand around throat but not choking, lip biting, neck biting, shoulder biting, missionary position, kinda dom!Sukuna because obvi, hand holding during sex, back scratching, body worship kinda, pussy eating + oral fem receiving, clit stimulation, pet names such as rosie, pretty girl, pretty, dirty talk + nasty words, unprotected sex *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ minors do not interact | sexual content 18+

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sexual content 18+, mentions of killing, strong descriptions of blood, bloody wounds and broken-ish hearts. non accurate descriptions of fixing wounds that you definitely shouldn’t follow, plot holes and inconsistencies 🥰 a Japanese translation of a word that might not be accurate (I’m a white girlie what do I know about Japanese language), I use the word growl way way too much (but in my defense they need better synonyms)

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦𓈒 𓆇 thank you for reading, I love me a grumpy baby sukuna 💕 I didn’t really write this one how I wanted to write it, but I didn’t want to just delete it all either, so here it is 😜🥲 also I didn’t really like the way I wrote the smut so oh well.

✧˖°.♡︎˙ᵕ˙⋆｡°✩ 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐈��𝐀𝐘 night when Sukuna came to you; the wind was brisk and harsh like the black waves of an Arctic Ocean, the air frosty and sharp, stabbing into your delicate skin like pine needles. It whistled in your ears and pulled at your hair, biting into you in a fashion so familiar for the beginning of December. It burned the back of your throat every time you inhaled, your nose a raw pink color and your teeth chattering between fogs of warm breath. Your fragile skin was left prickled and shivering under the pale moonlight, the chill carving a path straight to your bones, swimming in your veins like ice water and making your blood run cold.

You had your arms wrapped around yourself in nothing but your silky black robe, quivering in the dim yellow light of your door step as you felt worry bleed into you, eyes straining in the darkness, scanning the dim street light, the snow covered lawn, the silent empty street, for the man your heart pounded so anxiously for.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, hidden in the dark shadow of night and smelling of copper and smoke, trudging through the white snow in blood stained footsteps and falling at your feet with a groan. He was pale and shirtless, covered in scratches and seeping wounds you weren’t sure he’d recover from; he was still so weak, born again but not yet risen to his full potential, vulnerable still; a fawn learning how to use its legs. Blood pearled through burned fingertips as he’d hold his injuries, claws dried in rich blood and his pink hair matted with frost and dirt.

You couldn’t stop the shocked gasp.

“Oh my god!”

You hurriedly grabbed at his forearm and waist — his soft skin cold as ice, ignoring his groans and growls as you’d use all your strength to help him stand up, your own bones rigid and fatigued as the cold crept up your spine and made goosebumps crawl over your arms and legs. Blood stained your hands and dripped at your feet, staining the concrete with rich red drops, your nose tingling and lips grimacing at the metallic smell of it.

“Those brats…” He growled lowly, blood spitting out on his chin and lips, a clawed hand gripping his waist where one of his worser injuries were, his other arm hung over your shoulder as you struggled to drag his limp body into the warmness of your small home.

You dragged him through the house, knocking over a vase in the process that shattered to the floor in several small pieces. The sound shocked you, but Sukuna’s pained moan shocked you worse as you managed to set him on your couch, as gentle as you could be, blood trailing on your wooden floor and soaking into the crimson red covers of your love seat.

Your own blood rushed through your ears as you quickly scampered off to your bathroom and gathered alcohol and rags, Band-Aids and towels, anything you thought could’ve helped him as his faint grunts and pained hisses could be heard throughout your hallway. You were sloppy, dropping things on the ground and leaving cabinets opened as you hurried back out to the living room.

“I’ll kill them, I’ll kill them all… all of those Jujutsu rats.”Sukuna spat out quietly, voice thick with rage and crumbling with pain, muttering more to himself than he was talking to you pointedly. You sighed at that, pity and concern creeping in your heart like sprouting flowers, walking over to where Sukuna lay and squatting down next to him.

You should’ve known this had something to do with Jujutsu High, it always did when he was this angry, this hurt. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Sukuna was still focusing on the same things, a madness taken over him that had him driving down the same endless myriad of roads that never lead the way he wanted them to. Things never changed with him, a hard lesson learned a long time ago.

He was laid on his back, one foot hanging off the edge of the seat and the other bent at the knee, leaned against the cushion. His hands were both on his stomach, where most of the blood seemed to come from, thick and red like paste, smeared over his skin. You almost felt dizzy looking at it. Sweat beaded at his hairline and dirt was smeared across his smooth skin and black markings, mouth twisted in pain and fangs poking out threateningly from between his red lips. Each breath was long and slow with disgruntled groans and hisses between ever so often.

You set your things down on the floor next to you, hands shaking and dried with blood splatter. Sukuna opened his four red eyes with a grimace at the sound of it, looking down at you as if you were something unfamiliar, a stranger to a frightened animal, distrusting and hesitant.

You looked back up at him, brow raised and eyes narrowed at the incredulous hesitance stained in his own eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. You came to me.” You pointed out softly, giving him a stern look that had him stubbornly glaring back at you with a frown.

The faint whisper of candle flame could be heard as you ignored the urge to roll your eyes at Sukuna, knowing this was a sensitive time for him and knew it was in your best interest not to ruin his mood any further.

The dim golden light of your living room, lit by the glow of firelight and candles, exaggerated the sharpness of Sukuna’s face, accentuated the shadow of his muscles and the redness of his eyes. You were almost distracted by the beauty of it, but you knew better than to be.

“Don’t be such a brat, I’m not in the mood.” He grumbled, his eyes closing once more as he leaned his head back slowly on the puffy red cushion; a pain throbbing in his temples. You didn’t bother arguing with him, just giving him another docile, sympathetic sigh as your eyes ran over his face with a gentle fondness.

A few beats of silence buzzed between you as your eyes ran over his cuts and burns, soaking in the rare sight and battered appearance of such a strong curse like Sukuna, a man (thing) who, as long as you’ve known him, had never been one to lose to anything. You knew that fact hurt him all the more, knowing a simple group of sorcerers seemed to always get the best of him.

Your eyes lingered on the gash on his stomach, his burned fingertips, ears intently focused on every pained breath and wheeze that left his lips. Worry pulled at your heart like it was plucking strings, thrumming through your blood and making your throat close up, looking back up at Sukuna with a particular agony of your own.

“What happened, ‘una? Who did this to you?” You spoke quietly in the dim golden light, a frown on your lips as your eyes burned with tears, a consequence of your worry. You could hear the wind rattling the trees from outside, harsh snow coming down now and melting into your windows.

You knew Sukuna didn’t adjust well to emotions, especially tears, but seeing him so mad and in so much pain it made your chest heavy with unknown guilt and sadness, a pit in your stomach that made you feel sick. You felt the need to help him despite his despair being his own stubborn fault. You always did, you couldn’t help it — a flaw really, you always cared too much for things that didn’t deserve it.

He opened his eyes once more, slowly, his red hues running over your face and observing the sad pull of your pink lips and the wet sheer in your sparkly eyes. He could admit to himself that he hated seeing you like that, seeing you sad for him. He didn’t like pity, didn’t appreciate sympathy; he was higher than the minuscule emotions that plagued humanity, the very existence of his own power and grandness going beyond the scale of human morality. But with you, he couldn’t deny that it was for a different reason entirely.

Sukuna could see that you were genuine; he faltered when he was about to snap out a rude response (from instinct more than anything), but when he saw the concern in your doe eyes he couldn’t help but swallow down his disrespect, eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched tightly, as if swallowing his own anger.

“That white-haired devil. He knew I’d be there somehow, brought those idiot children… I should’ve seen it!” He growled once more, looking away from you as the memory of earlier that evening played in his mind, a rage burning through him that distracted him from the pain, eyes furiously blazing with something murderous, his sharp teeth bared and a bloody mix of saliva trailing down his cheek in a sheer pink line as his veins throbbed. You felt your own fear jolt through you that had your muscles tense up and skin prickle, never seeing Sukuna so angry before, much less having seen him lose a fight.

“Shhh, you need to lay down, your wounds!” You instinctively put a hand on Sukuna’s shoulder when he tried to pick himself up, a clenched groan escaping his twisted lips when he bent his midsection. You pushed him back down rather roughly when he resisted your strength, eyes widened at the groan of pain that sounded from him.

“Okay, listen, I know you’re angry, but you’re hurt, and that’s more important than whatever revenge scheme you’re coming up with right now.” You scolded, exasperated, Sukuna looking at you like you had just struck him.

“Besides, you wouldn’t win any fight in the state you’re in anyway.” You mumbled quietly, taking your hand off an offended Sukuna who growled in response, turning your head and grabbing your damp rag from the mess of supplies next to you.

“Of course I’d win.” He grumbled almost childishly with that deep, scratchy voice of his, looking you up and down with a disgruntled expression.

You felt an amused smile pull at your lips, a chuckle bubbling in your throat at his stubborn behavior.

You looked back up at Sukuna with the rag in your hand, looking into the embers of his eyes as you spoke softly, “Of course you would. Now move your arms, I need to clean the blood off of you, your stomach got the worst of it…”

Sukuna stared at you, eyes narrowed slightly as they ran over your face, from your hair flowing down your back, to your eyes looking at his stomach anxiously, to your pink lips, pale and dry. He even noticed the blood on your robe, the dried patches on your collarbone and wrist. His eyes lingered on the robe though, familiarity striking him as he zoned in on the stitched red letters of 薔薇 (rose), right above your heart, just below your collarbone.

He stared at it, a fond memory surfacing in his brain that had him short circuiting, eyes looking back up at your face as he cocked his head at you with a glare, a growl gurgling in the back of his throat like it was your fault that he felt the way he did.

He felt something incredibly unfamiliar swirl in his stomach and claw at his heart; a mix of guilt, of anger, for getting that damned robe so dirty with his own sweat and blood.

“What is it?” You asked, always so concerned. You furrowed your brows, noticing the distant look in his eyes as he stared at you, his lips still twisted and eyebrows pressed together like your very face caused him great anguish.

“Why do you always have to leave? Why can’t you stay? Forget about those Jujutsu High people, just stay with me…”

“I can’t. Not until they’re all dead. Not until their blood is dripping down my hands and flooding the streets of this wretched city. Not until I’m King again. Once they’re gone there will be nothing in my way, nothing to stop me from having my throne, nothing that can come between me and my full power. Once I have that, I will have everything, nothing will ever be able to stop me again.”

“…is that really all that matters to you?”

You looked over Sukuna’s face with a pink blush at the awkwardness of it all, his crimson eyes, hard and piercing, boring into you with an aggrieved frown; the memory of something now unattainable playing behind those eyes of his that you knew nothing about. You felt anxiousness run through your blood as you placed a strand of hair behind your ear, somehow embarrassed at the way he was just staring at you.

“Sukuna, what’s the problem, are you okay?” You laughed nervously, like a doting school girl in the way he used to make you giggle so much, your eyes flickering between the rag in your hands and his stare; you were never able to make eye contact with him that long, he always flustered you too much.

But, you supposed, it was wrong to dwell on those things now.

Sukuna’s eyes danced between yours some more, watching and remembering like he was staring into a glittering pair of nostalgic television sets. His lips, tinged with blood splatter and chapped with dry skin, were set in an irate frown as those same guilty, unfamiliar, feelings swirled in his chest like a wicked brew, but also… something else. Something worse, something more painful, something dull but vibrant that burned through his conscious like a twinkling star.

“You still have that, huh?” He groused with that deep voice of his, voice thick but still remaining disinterested, his bloody hand moving up from his stomach (where strings of blood snapped between his palm and him) as his sharp claw poked at the red letters on your heart.

You furrowed your brows at what he meant, glancing down to where he poked you when the red stitching caught your eye and it all just made sense.

You faltered for a moment as your mind flashed back to the same moment his must’ve, staring down at it as a melancholic feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the memory. Yes, you had never gotten rid of it, a pathetic attempt to hold on to you as it was the only thing I had left besides the pain you left behind. You looked back up at Sukuna with a solemn expression, your eyes flickering between his in uncertainty and sadness for a moment before you looked back at his stomach.

You really needed to fix that already.

“Um, well yeah. It was a gift, remember?” You gave him a small smile as you glanced back up at his eyes, the need to cry suddenly very real and heavy on your chest. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, tell him you missed him, and that for the first few weeks after he left it still smelt of him, smelt of smoke and cinnamon, rosemary and clary sage.

You couldn’t find the strength in yourself to throw it away even after the smell faded, nor could you stop the anger that flooded you every time you saw it. It was the only thing you had left of him besides the heartache, but at least that was invisible with the potential to be ignored. Not the robe, that was something physical and very much existent that just reminded you that you weren’t as okay as you made yourself believe.

Honestly, you hadn’t realized you were wearing it, damning yourself for buying one so similar.

Sukuna didn’t respond to that, just stared at you with a vexed expression like you were some riddle he couldn’t figure out, some ingredient he couldn’t taste, and it pissed him off. Still, he couldn’t help it when he reached back over and traced his finger over the red stitching, brows furrowed and eyes burning, his black claw scratching against it as he felt your body freeze underneath him. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his finger, a spot of blood smearing over the letters from his bloody hand.

“Sukuna! Oh my god, I love it! But now I feel bad, i didn’t get you anything…”

“eh, don’t make it a big deal, alright?… But you like it, huh?”

“I love it, I love it love it love it!”

“Mm, good. How about you try it on for me, princess? Then give your King a proper thank you…”

“Okay, I will. But, seriously, thank you. I’ll always wear it. I love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you better, you brat…”

Sukuna retracted his hand slowly, the silence between you heavy and buzzing with all those feelings you didn’t want to share, all those memories you didn’t want to think about. Your lips tightened as you looked over his face for some reflection of what he was thinking, your skin tingling at just the feel of his finger tracing your heart. You wondered if he could feel how quickly it beat for him, but knew that of course he did.

You swallowed nervously, adjusting your robe to cover the area of skin he had accidentally exposed. The stain of blood on the red lettering didn’t go unnoticed to you. It was painfully ironic.

Sukuna took your distraction as his outing, his eyes dropping from yours as he grunted and laid his head back on the pillow. He didn’t want to think about that, his mood already well and soured. Still, he couldn’t help the way his stomach tightened with a newfound sickness — sick with his choices? Most definitely. He closed his eyes and adjusted himself so he was more facing the cushion than you, an annoyed quirk on the edge of his sharp lip that let his white fang peek out.

He hated all these goddamn feelings. They were confusing and they hurt, hurt worse than any wound on his physical being that a mortal could give him.

“Hurry up, will ya? I’m tired.” He spoke in that annoyed tone like you were nothing more than a hassle for him, a pest he was shooing away. You frowned at that, the moment you two shared, dare you even call it that, now in shambles at your knees as you rolled your eyes at him in newfound annoyance; not just for his careless attitude, but also for making you remember.

“You know, you should really be nicer to me, I’m the only one who helps your grumpy ass.” You mumbled rudely, but just as honestly, scooting closer to the couch and reaching over to grab Sukuna’s wrist from where he was still covering the bloody wound. You moved it a little, grimacing at the way the blood had dried and was sticky all over his abdomen, smeared over his abs and sitting heavy in your nose like an essential oil.

You were just thankful the blood had stopped coming.

Sukuna flinched when you grabbed his wrist, his body tensing as he released a small growl like he was some feral dog. You could almost laugh at it if he didn’t irritate you so fucking much; you couldn’t believe he was still so stubborn despite always depending on you to help him. It made annoyance seep through your bones, more so than ever before.

“You need to move your arm or I won’t be able to clean it. You’re the one who wanted me to hurry up, aren’t you?” You sassed, having no patience for his attitude like you did earlier, raising a brow at him to dare him to try and rebuttal.

Sukuna glared at you despite knowing you were right, not appreciating his words (or your attitude for that matter) being thrown back at him. He relaxed his muscle though after a short stubborn moment, his hand going soft in your grasp so you could move it away.

“Be gentle. It hurts.” He hissed at you like a troublesome child when you went to move his arm again. You slowly raised his arm (but not before giving him a sour expression to show your distaste), with as gentle as a touch as you could muster, and carefully set it off to the side. He raised it to his head and set it behind him, propping his head on his arm as he stared down at you untrustingly.

You sighed in exasperation, giving him a look between annoyed and even more annoyed as you leaned over and gently ran the rag over the dried blood surrounding the wound. You realized the blood made it look a lot worse than it was; a simple deep cut that was mostly likely caused from some sort of weapon. You were curious on the details of what exactly happened, but you most certainly knew better than to ever ask him.

A few moments of silence passed as you washed away at the blood, red droplets running down his sides and most likely staining your loveseat. You were glad it was red, a purchase made shortly after meeting Sukuna as there were plenty of nights spent just like this one. The white rag quickly became tinged with pink, but some spots were harder to scrub than others from where the blood had crusted for so long on his skin.

You glanced up at Sukuna, where his eyes were now closed but his mouth was still twisted into a grumpy scowl. You would say he looked a little cute, like a pouting puppy more than a murderous curse, but no, you weren’t going to say that nor admit it to yourself. It was always hard to keep those thoughts away; your mind had become so consumed with him when you were together that it was hard to just forget about him now.

You looked back down, hoping Sukuna wouldn’t notice when you pressed down just a little harder, only a little on a stubborn patch of blood by his belly button. Of course, you just as soon regretted it as Sukuna’s clawed hand came down quicker than you could think and snatched at your fist with a pained hiss.

“I said gentle, woman!” He spat, viridian eyes enraged and sharp teeth glistening under the dim orange light. Your eyes widened in initial shock before they glared down at where his hand was gripping yours. You hissed at the tight hold on your knuckles, snapping your head at him. The genuine pain swirling in his irises did little to subdue your own anger.

“Oh my god, okay!” You exclaimed in utter frustration, snatching your hand out from under his with a scoff and a shake of your head.

Sukuna let out an almost threatening sound from the bottom of his throat, glowering at you for a few moments like you had just hurt him personally. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the way your hair fell around your shoulders; you’d always been beautiful, far more beautiful than he ever really deserved. He stared at you a little longer than he should have, thankfully unknown to you. Looking at you like this only made him feel like shit, remembering what he had done.

It made him feel sick and lost; at the way he treated you and yet you stuck around. Had you really loved him? You must’ve, you always stayed when in reality you should’ve left long ago. Even now, you always helped him despite how he treated you, Sukuna wasn’t blind to it. He saw you roll your eyes at him and this mournful feeling settled heavy in his heart (when had he gotten one) — he was still grieving over the loss of you and he didn’t think he’d ever get you back.

Sukuna gave you one last glare for being so damn distracting before he relaxed once more in the love seat. You have managed yet again to bring out these feelings in him that made him want to throw up and he hated it. He laid flat on his back, wincing as he did, clenching his jaw and letting out a low snarl at the predicament he was in.

You settled down yourself, letting out a huff as you glanced back up at him in exasperation. You couldn’t believe the temper he still had, you even found it mildly amusing. You looked back at his abdomen, where pink water droplets dripped from your hand and down his side. You resumed gently washing away at the blood coating him, “All that time to yourself and you still haven’t fixed those anger issues it seems…”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped open at that, his ears picking up the end of your grumbled sentence.

“What’d you say, brat?” He hissed with a dark glare, looking down at you with an expression of utter offense at your statement.

You glanced up at him, your eyes running over that familiar face with a smile you couldn’t stop from stretching over your lips. Your eyes ran over his scowl, the fierceness of his glare, a small giggle bubbling in your throat. You put your head back down and continued rubbing the blood off of him as though he couldn’t see the wide, bemused smile on your lips.

Sukuna instantly felt confused at your reaction, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” He scoffed at you, like he was offended that he was the only one not in on your joke, glaring at the way you only seemed to laugh just a bit harder at him. His eyes were immediately drawn to your lips, the curve od your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh that seemed to make his heart pound in his ears. He glanced at your grin then back to your eyes before you could notice.

You bit your lip to stop the giggles, smiling through your teeth as you glanced up at him and his confused (hilarious) expression.

“Oh, nothing. Just lay back down.” You sighed whimsically, smiling to yourself as you went back to cleaning the blood off of his waist, albeit not as concentrated as you were before — a way to distract yourself from looking back up at him. It was something though, of course it was something, but it was also something you most definitely didn’t want to talk about. You’d hoped he’d ignore it, but of course he wouldn’t.

Sukuna scowled at you, grabbing at the rag in your hand and ignoring the sting of pain that shot through him as he leaned forward towards you, his shadow crossing your face.

“Tell me, I demand it.” He ordered, his hold tightening on your hand as his glare worsened.

You had froze when he grabbed you, almost embarrassingly so, your eyes lingering on his hand that was conjoined with yours (always bigger and full of so much power) for a moment before you cleared your throat of any remaining laughter. To this day, he could still make you feel so nervous.

“Oh, you demand it, huh?” You almost laughed at that as you looked back up at him, eyes quickly finding his in the daze of candle smoke and blood. You staggered for no particular reason, missing the way he always used to look at you. You managed to compose yourself though as a wide, amused smile at his dramatics pulled on your lips instead. He couldn’t help but linger on it, hand still on top of yours like you both weren’t aware of it.

Sukuna couldn’t help the irritated sound that fell from his lips, rolling his eyes at you before giving you a really look (it only made you smile harder at him).

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just�� whenever we were together you would always get so offended when I would say anything about your anger issues. It’s just funny that it still bothers you, that’s all.” You smiled fondly — bitterly, at the memory of it, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as though speaking of it didn’t affect you as much as it really did.

Truth was, of course it affected you. It was just supposed to be a fleeting thought, a fleeting memory shoved to the surface that was quickly drowned. But he just had to know, and now it was all you could think about. It made your heart sink, sadness filling in your chest cavity like syrup, thick and heavy and bitter in your blood.

The smile slowly fell from your face as you looked back down at his wound, which was slowly healing itself. You looked at his hand, which was still tight around yours (having to fight the urge to turn your palm and intertwine his fingers with yours). You couldn’t bare to see the look on his face at your response, feeling embarrassed for being so vulnerable so quickly, feeling embarrassed that you spoke with him like he was nothing but a friend. He wasn’t a friend to you, he wasn’t supposed to be anything anymore. But he was and it was silly of you to try and disregard that fact.

You knew he was more, he was always more, so here you were, blushing and smiling like he was still with you, like he wasn’t here to use your services then leave as he did every few months. You were silly and love drunk, blissed out on the memories and the hope of his return. It was ridiculous. Yes, You missed him — you absolutely hated to admit that fact but it was blaring in your head, obvious and flashing, obvious in the way you cared for his wounds every time he came, obvious in the way you welcomed him back in time and time again. It was so painfully obvious you still hoped for him, and these little visits of his did nothing but ruin you more.

You sighed as your eyes started to burn, hand clenching the rag for dear life to try and stop them from coming. You had to be stronger than this, strong like all those times you’d seen him before in the year and half he’s been gone.

Sukuna stared at you for a while, his grip loosening on your hand as he thought about what you just said.

Whenever we were together.

He felt bad, to put it simply. He didn’t ever think he’d miss you, a mortal, like he has. He didn’t ever think he’d need you, a mortal, at his side when he became King again, he didn’t ever think he’d need anyone. He was Sukuna, King of the Curses and one of the most powerful beings on earth. He could have any woman he wanted, absolutely anything he desired, he was just that powerful. He knew that when he met you, the only sorcerer to never try to kill him, the only girl he’d ever faltered for.

When did he lose sight of that? He was evil, he wasn’t meant to live or love but here he was, already having lived and loved beyond what he was meant to. Loved? Loved. He did love you but he always loved power more, he loved you but… he screwed it all up and you left him. He thought he was fine with that, thought that you were just a waste of time he granted his attention to, a speck in his endless story of immortality and struggle, but then you left and he didn’t have you anymore. Was power ever really worth it compared to you? He was alone, but wasn’t that what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you, a mortal, to be by his side when he took his throne at the flames of the world.

That’s what he thought.

But then you left him like any self respecting woman would have and he had missed you, missed you so much more than a curse like him was supposed to feel. He missed your smile and your hands, your touch and your pretty eyes. He knew he wasn’t the best man around, never treated you quite fairly and always considered you second to his crown, but it didn’t take him long after your disappearance to realize how foolish that was. It wasn’t his strength that made him dinners at night, it wasn’t money that kissed him on his cheek and held his hand, and it wasn’t power that loved him like you did.

He knew he had lost sight of what was most important, he knew that but he was too stubborn to admit it to anyone, even himself, especially you. He had been chasing a fantasy, an idea, when you were right there all along. He was so stupid, but he was greedy and selfish above all. He wanted you but he wanted power, and you proved that he couldn’t have both.

What was he doing here? Why did he always come to you when he needed help? Why did he ever let you leave and why did he keep using you like this? Really he had no one else to turn to, and if he did die he wanted it to be with you, in your arms or by your hand. It was sappy and sentimental but it was the truth. Yes, he was evil, he was supposed to be evil, take what he wanted and use what he needed with no care for others.

But you… he couldn’t be that way with you even when he first met you. You had softened him up, but it still wasn’t enough to change him completely. He still craved endless strength and reign above all, after all he was created to kill anything that got in his way. He needed to destroy and plunder, do the sins he was born to do and burn the world to ashes.

But… he didn’t want to do any of that without his queen by his side. Why was he doing this? Why was he doing this to you? All these questions and no answers, a year and a half of hopelessness and loneliness, a year and a half of chasing something that would never satisfy him like you did; teetering on the edge of a cliff but never quite falling in. He wanted to with you. Fall into that dark abyss of uncertainty and fear with your hand in his, just as it was intended.

He didn’t necessarily plan on admitting that tonight though, but seeing you with that damned robe on and your hair so shiny and smooth the way he liked it… he could feel his resolve slipping away like warm honey. Damn, he really did miss you.

And now, you just had to go and say that and make him feel even worse. When we were together…

Ryomen Sukuna clenched his jaw at the weight behind that simple statement, his eyes running over your face for any sign of the pain he knew you felt inside — or what he could see of it through the strings of your hair.

He left the hand that was on top of yours there, almost squeezing it underneath his in an uncharacteristic effort of intimacy. He heard you let out the quietest sniffle, his chest caving in as his eyes flickered worriedly around your frame. He felt a need to comfort you pull at his dark heart, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do and felt utterly powerless.

He shyly brought his other hand up, hesitant, not wanting you to flinch away from him, not wanting to scare you off.

The silence was almost too much to bear between you as you refused to look at him, feeling weak and stupid for bringing it up.

Sukuna delicately laid his palm on the back of your head, his skin stained with his blood and crusted to his claws. You didn’t move when he touched you, very gently stroking your hair once you didn’t move away from him. He clenched his jaw, wanting to grab more of you from just that small touch alone.

You closed your eyes at the feeling, savoring the tingles on your scalp with every brush of his hand. You thought it was kind of sweet of him, his own way of comforting you that was already so uncomfortable for him to be doing. You were grateful for it, slightly leaning into the warmth of his touch, not caring about the dried blood on his fingers.

Sukuna let it be silent for a few soft moments, relishing in the feeling of you under his palm again.

“You should go to sleep, brat. I‘ve got the rest.” He mumbled in that aggressively caring (but somehow nonchalant) way that he does. You just appreciated the fact that he was trying at all.

You hadn’t heard that tone in a long time; it raised goosebumps on your skin that had a small smile gracing your lips. It was well needed and washed over you like a velvet curtain.

You were tired, but you didn’t want to leave him by himself like this, leave him to clean his own wounds (although they were his own), but you cared too much to ever leave him alone, another reason why you always so graciously helped him when he wanted you to. Besides, you didn’t want to leave him injured like this, bleeding on your couch and covered in dirt, knowing he still needed help despite not saying it.

You raised your head up to look at him, your eyes and cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink.

“Are you sure? I can do this for you, I don’t mind it, you know that.” You protested, his nails scratching into your head in a tingly way that made your eyes droopy.

He gazed back at you with a softer expression, one that made you weak and doting at his bedside. You missed when he’d look at you like that, like he really cared about you more than his dreams of world domination. His eyes looked over your face, the need to bring you closer sizzling and suffocating, so much so you almost thought he would (hoped he would). He kept his hand in your hair, but the petting stopped the longer you looked at him, a sudden intimacy soft in the air between you as you looked into his eyes.

He frowned at the look on your face, almost pitiful, the aftermath of a few quiet tears you’d hoped he didn’t notice (he always knew).

“Go.” He spoke quietly, voice deep and rumbly like brittle mountains that made a shiver crawl up your spine. It made your mouth dry at the intensity of his gaze, your chest fluttering at the unnecessary kindness. You wonder what changed. You sighed at the silent demand in his voice, wanting to stay, but judging from the daring way he raised his eyebrow at you you knew it was futile to argue.

“Fine. But don’t move too much, and don’t clean any of this, i’ll get it tomorrow. Just try to get some rest now okay? You need to heal. Those wounds are worse than the other ones you’ve had.” You ordered gently as you raised yourself off your knees — they popped as you did so, and set the rag on the table. Your hands were a little bloody as well, knowing you looked almost a big of a mess as he did. Sukuna’s hand fell off your head as you rose, his nails lingering on a few strands of hair until they fell from his reach.

He put his hands behind his head and looked up at you, his eyes gazing over your form in a way he wasn’t able to before. Could say it was a form of admiration, but you didn’t want to reach. You glanced back at him, at his chest and abs that were sharp and bloody in the golden light of the living room. You scolded yourself, knowing you really shouldn’t be looking at him in that way.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I can handle it.” He rolled his eyes at you, words full of sarcasm and dismissal. You gave him a sarcastic smile back, taking a step forward and leaning down towards him to adjust the pillow behind his head. You were grateful that the both of you mutually decided to just forget about the moment that happened just mere seconds ago, you couldn’t handle the embarrassment that would come with his teasing.

Sukuna looked up at you as you leaned towards him, his eyes curiously looking up at yours, head almost titling up towards you. You ignored his proximity, the smell of rosemary and smoke on your nose that masked the heavy scent of pennies in the air.

You swallowed when you looked at his lips, then back to his eyes, flustered now at the way he seemed to have expected you to do something else.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly fixing the pillow behind his head. He looked at your own lips, your hair falling around his head and tickling his shoulders. He felt his heart race, the urge to reach up and just take your lips in his strong and burning in his chest.

“Whatever you say.” You mumbled between his face and yours before quickly turning around, a blush on your cheeks and a heat lingering on your skin.

Sukuna watched as you started walking towards the hallway, intent on taking a shower to wash the blood off yourself, eyes glued to you as disappointment sunk in his chest at the missed opportunity. He clenched his jaw in frustration, looking at how pretty you were in candlelight.

You stopped at the corner of the hall, your cheeks burning as you tried to catch a breath of false confidence, not wanting him to see how easily affected you were by him even after all this time. It was almost pathetic how quickly he could make you blush. You inhaled, face covered by the corner of the wall so he couldn’t see you, then exhaled in an attempt to calm your heartbeat.

You turned your head, noticing how he was already staring at you with dark eyes. You looked back at him, wanting to say so much more than you should, an ache in your chest that pained your heart at seeing him again.

“Goodnight, pinkie.” You smirked at him, knowing how much he hated when you called him that. It was just a silly nickname you always called him when you were together, a tease to his pink hair that started from the beginning of the relationship. You weren’t sure if you should’ve said it but you needed something to break the tension you could feel weighing down on your shoulders.

Shockingly, Sukuna didn’t glare at you like you thought he would have, like he usually would have. His expression was blank and unreadable, dare you say heartfelt at the way his eyes softened so uncharacteristically, looking back at you with a hard stare. You swore you could feel the air get warmer.

“Goodnight, Rosie.”

You faltered as you turned back around to leave, your hand coming up to your chest like he’d just snatched the air out of your lungs.

Rosie.

He hadn’t called you that since he loved you, or so you thought he did. It was something so simple but so important, a small detail among the bigger picture that made your heart flutter; you couldn’t believe he even remembered that, that he cared enough to call you it again.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your lips like a lovesick fool, giddy and bashful as you walked to your room with confusing thoughts in your head.

Goodnight, Rosie.

Sukuna had taken a shower shortly after you retired to your room, the heat much needed on his cold skin as blood and grime swirled down the drain in a spiral of red and black. He stared at it blankly, hot water washing over his bruised body and unveiling all the cuts he didn’t even know were there, bathroom steaming with a thick smog that fogged up the mirror and the space around him.

He was thinking about you then, lost in a trance, thinking intently about you and your smile, thinking about how it used to shine for him but now it only shined at the memory of him — he should’ve appreciated that as that was enough, it should have been enough for him as it would’ve been for any man who betrayed the woman they loved. He was lucky he was still a sore memory and not a bitter regret, he was lucky you still even smiled around him at all. He was lucky now just as he’d been lucky before, but he wasn’t as foolish now as he was then either.

He had been thinking about this for some time actually, just a few months after the loneliness and heartbreak had really settled into his bones. It took a while, but eventually he couldn’t deny the stiffness in his joints and the heavy weight on his chest, the feeling of your loss crushing his rib cage and suffocating him.

Even these little pathetic visits of his were a lame excuse for the real reason behind why he wanted to see you; but it still surprised him that you never turned him away, not even the first time he showed up at your door with bloody knuckles and bruised skin. You most certainly weren’t as hospitable as you are now, barely gave him a blanket to sleep with after you threw a rag at him. Still, you never kicked him out and he’d wake up with the blanket wrapped around him anyway.

It was a sweet, short lived moment before he’d have to leave again.

You were always so sweet, sweeter than you gave yourself credit for. Sukuna always loved and loathed that about you; you were too trusting sometimes despite knowing the dangers of the real world — but then again Sukuna was the most dangerous thing of all, what could possibly scare you now? You were too sweet and it contradicted him greatly; he always considered himself rude… rude and harsh, apathetic to life’s many sorrowful woes and uncaring for measly mortal lives. Humanity was a pest to him, a cockroach nibbling on the crumbs of his successes. You of course, didn’t necessarily share that same vision.

You made him soft, even he knew that. You made him care less about them and more about you, but never quite enough to make him forget about his true love for ultimate power. You had made him soft yes, turned his sharp edges into curves yet you couldn’t change his dire need for bloodlust. That, you didn’t mind. You knew who Ryomen Sukuna was, knew he wasn’t some docile little puppy that would hang on to your every whim and argument. He was murderous but not so much when he was with you, and that was all you really wanted.

Come to think of it, you never truly tried to change him at all. You’d be disappointed sometimes sure, but never once did you say he was wrong, or that he shouldn’t do this and he shouldn’t do that. In anyone’s eye you were perfect; a pretty little queen who gave her King anything he asked for for one simple thing in return. His love.

Sukuna gave you that but… he didn’t at the same time. He was younger then though, a freshly reanimated curse still hellbent on revenge and destruction like he’d been 1,000 years ago. He didn’t love anything then, nothing but pure chaos. Then he was trapped, and 1,000 years later he had reawakened with that same fury only in a much different time, in a much different world. He didn’t have you 1,000 years ago but yet he had you all of a sudden, the girl who killed curses for a living yet didn’t kill him.

He didn’t know what made him so special, but he didn’t kill you either, stuck on your otherworldly beauty and hanging on to every sweet word that left your lips. He made you his a couple months after, not like you weren’t the moment he laid his eyes on you and decided to spare your life. Something beyond him must’ve known how important you’d be later on, something beyond him saving him from the potential heartbreak of having not been with you at all.

He spoiled you in all the gifts and glory you never could’ve imagined, dressed you in soft red silks and fine white diamonds, showered you with oh-so sweet compliments and possessive touches — he never liked anyone thinking you weren’t his, but he never gave you the one thing you really wanted in the way you deserved it. He never chose you first, put you first, loved you above everything. Yes, he loved you but he loved chaos more, and eventually his crazed mind had twisted into something so incongruous, so far gone he was blinded by his need for mayhem that he couldn’t see you anymore.

And that’s when you left, and it’s been such a painful blur ever since.

His girl, his rose… withered into ash in the flames of his own hands.

But now, now he was grown. He knew what he wanted now and the night only made it so much more obvious to him that he was ready to give you everything, all of him and all of his love.

Maybe it was the soft way your hands ran across his hot skin, delicate and dainty, so you couldn’t hurt him anymore than he was already hurt. Maybe it was the way you fluffed his pillow like a doting wife and smiled at him so sweetly like he’d never done anything to hurt you in the first place. Maybe it was the way you saved him time and time again with open arms and a gentle heart despite how he’d treated you. Maybe it wasn’t just one moment that made him realized how much he missed you, but in fact all of those moments combined that helped piece together that revelation.

You were beautiful and kind, a flower he had abused one too many times that grew thorns around it’s heart. Now you weren’t so easy to pluck, to win over. But now Sukuna was ready, he didn’t care if he got cut if it meant you’d be his flower again, his darling rose.

Sukuna clenched his jaw, skin red and patchy from the heat of the shower as he reached over and turned it off. The water subdued to echoing droplets, his need for you stronger than any craving for chaos he’s ever experienced.

He was ready to love you, to give himself to you in the way you always needed, be there for you just as you were for him. He couldn’t let this snowy night pass before you knew that, let this opportunity pass him by like they have so many times before. He stepped out of the shower, determined to make you his again and become the King (thing) you always deserved.

For the first time in his very long life Ryomen Sukuna was going to be selfish for the right reasons.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, slowly opening your door so he didn’t wake you up quite yet. He was still bare from the shower, a piece of gauze taped to his abdomen the only form of attire he had on. He had left wet footprints along your hallway, his skin mostly dry from the warm air of your home but his pink hair still damp, droplets of water rolling down his neck. His abdomen ached with every step but he couldn’t focus on the pain, only you.

He didn’t care that he was naked, you’d seen his body plenty of times before just as he’d seen yours, and what a beautiful sight it was. He had no shame and had nothing to be ashamed about, and to be honest his nudity wasn’t even a thought in his mind as he gently closed the door behind him.

It was late, the sky still black with white flurries sprinkling down, your window stained with fog and snowflakes as a silver, fragmented glow of the moon befell on your sleeping form. Your room was dark but bright enough for him to see, his feet silent and calculated like he knew which boards creaked and which ones didn’t; he’d been in here so many times without you knowing that the rhythm of steps he needed to take just came natural to him.

He noticed the black robe he had gifted you was thrown on the end of your bed, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you had been wearing underneath it as all he could see was a puff of soft hair above your crimson blanket. He loved that you still loved the color red even after him, sprinkles of Sukuna dusted over your apartment so subtly only he’d be able to notice it. Your red couch, your red blanket, your black clothes and the diamond jewelry you never threw away. All little reminders of him because you couldn’t find it in yourself to move on.

Good.

He moved to your bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed as it sunk under his weight. The silence was filled with your gentle breathing, his dark red eyes looking over the soft rise and fall of your shoulder from where you had scrunched the blanket under your chin. Your eyelashes were cute and wispy, laid over your cheeks as a strand of your hair slid down to your nose.

This scene was so familiar to him; he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck in here when you were sleeping just to see you again, in between the weeks he’d knowingly visit you with a bustled lip and bloody nose.

You were beautiful and peaceful, his black claw coming up and ever so softly moving the piece of unruly hair behind your ear. His knuckles dragged on your cheekbone, his jaw clenched as he suddenly felt unsure of himself and the moment he’d just created. He felt almost nervous, him, as powerful and influential as he was, was nervous because of a human, a sorcerer. It was so odd, but then again nothing about your relationship was normal. Still, he couldn’t leave now, he was in too deep at this point.

It was too late for him to question himself however when your eyes sleepily fluttered open, his hand slowly retracting back to his side as he let your awareness kick in.

He gazed into your eyes as they registered him, confused and groggy as you pulled the blanket down away from your mouth, looking up at him questioningly.

Your eyes ran over his face, observing the way his lips frowned and his eyes seemed almost pained, two red dots of light. Your eyes flickered between his in a blurry sleep hazed stare.

“Sukuna? Is something wrong?” You immediately thought the worst, your voice soft and raspy in that way he used to hear when you’d wake up beside him. He wanted those days back, his hand tensing at the sweet sound of you.

You moved the blanket off of you, goosebumps rising on your skin from the cool air. Your arm came up to rub at your eyes, still blurry, anything to help your vision adjust to the darkness (and the situation) around you.

Sukuna’s eyes were drawn to the lacy black tank top you wore, tracing over the curve of your breast from where it had slightly spilled out of the cup. His fist clenched some more, a heat stirring in his tummy that made his eyes darken as they looked back up at your face. It’s been too long since he’d seen them, seen any part of you besides your face and arms. He swore he wasn’t usually so easily affected.

Sukuna waited until you were looking at him again before he spoke, only you beat him to it once more as clarity started to fill your senses at what exactly was happening.

You put a cold hand on his forearm that made his muscle tense, “Is everything okay, why are you in here?” You furrowed your brows at him, voice still soft as it felt unnecessary to speak so loud when he was so close.

Sukuna stared back at you for a moment, hot and intense, a look that had you faltering as your eyes fell to his chin to keep from looking into his. You felt nervous now, way past your initial shock and worry as you were now exposed to him in the tank top you hadn’t intended for him to see.

He looked over your face, eyes noticing how you looked away from him in that shy way you always did. It made him eager to see them again, his need for you overpowering him so quickly he couldn’t think as his hands reached for you. They had missed you just as much.

His right hand gently grabbed your jaw as his left cushioned itself on your pillow and laid you down so he was on top of you, his legs still hanging off the edge of the bed but his larger frame now trapping you underneath him. His muscle was next to your head, his claws poking into your cheeks and you felt your heart stop and then pound frantically in the shell of your ears. You knew he could hear it too, his face hovering over yours as the smell of your body wash wafted into your nose.

Your eyes flickered between his, wide-eyed and in utter shock at the situation that had rapidly occurred. You couldn’t speak, stuttering over words for some kind of question that would formulate what you were thinking into existence. You felt hot and smothered, swallowing down nothing in your dry mouth.

Sukuna looked over your face as though he was inspecting you, eyes slanted and dark, an intensity hidden behind the red flakes of his irises so strong it only made the red seem brighter, burning. You couldn’t help the shakey breath you inhaled, wanting to look away but knowing you couldn’t.

“You love me, don’t you? You still love your King?” Sukuna growled gently, his voice deep and raspy with a very subtle hint of desperation for what your answer could be. His warm breath washed over your lips as he moved your head slightly so it was looking straight at him. You glanced down at his lips, stupidly of course as he noticed when you did it.

You didn’t fight him, a part of you not wanting to as this was a fantasy you’ve only been dreaming about every since you left him. But also because you were so surprised still, his question catching you off guard as you blinked at him stupidly.

What did he expect you to say to that? What did you expect you to say to that? Did you still love him, was he looking for a serious answer or was he just sleep walking? You knew it wasn’t the latter, his viridian eyes piercing into you like he could see the intricate makings of your own mind, hooded with slight purple bags under them. Your breathing was a little harsh, your skin tingling at his proximity as no one had touched you in a very long time and it was something your body (you) craved.

You wanted him to touch you more but wanted him to not touch you at all.

You didn’t know what to tell him and you weren’t sure how seriously you should take it. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make him angry, or better yet tell the truth and make him angry. You weren’t sure what would satisfy him, his eyes giving away nothing that could help you as they stared at you, growing irritated with your lack of response.

You don’t know how he expected you to focus when he was staring at you like that.

Do you still love your King? God… you swallowed at that as the phrase made your legs tighten, only slightly so he wouldn’t feel the movement under the blanket. It was completely inappropriate but so was this whole situation, and like you said, it really had been so long without him that your body yearned for him, practically jumping at how close he was to it. All that time away and yet your body had not trained itself to hate him.

You opted for the truth, knowing he could sense if you lied anyway (he always could no matter how hard you tried). You stared back at his eyes and gulped with a very subtle head nod, “I never really stopped…” You uttered, weak and spineless like a field mouse.

Sukuna released a tense breath, his head falling into your neck as he hummed against your skin, almost a purring nose that rattled his throat, his nose rubbing just behind your ear like a doting kitten. That answer seemed to satisfy him enough.

Your eyes closed at the feeling of him so close to you, letting out a stuttering breath. You wanted to reach up and wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you until all of him laid on top of you. But you knew you shouldn’t interfere with whatever he was doing, you didn’t want to risk ruining whatever this was.

Your hands were tense at your sides as you didn’t know what to do with them, better yet you didn’t want to disturb him. You swallowed another bunch of nerves that fluttered in your belly, an ache forming under your skin as your breathing picked up from just his simple touches, his warm breath brushing over your neck. He was big and warm, laying his chest on top of you and sinking his head into your shoulder like he couldn’t get enough of you.

You wanted more of him too.

You couldn’t deny though that this felt very sudden and weird to you, how all of a sudden he was in your room and asking if you loved him. Did he get into one of your bottles of pain medication? Was he doped up? You couldn’t fathom any other explanation other than inebriety that would justify his uncharacteristic behavior.

Asking you if you loved him, You felt that was a more serious conversation that should be held over coffee in your living room, where both persons were sober and of sound mind, not nearly exposed and drunk on each other in the darkness of your bed with his body surrounding you. You swore his proximity was influencing your thoughts in some way, making them all muddled.

“Hmm, do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered since you left? How weak I felt, how powerless you made me?” He hissed into your neck like he loathed you for it, his hand tightening just a tad around your jaw. He smelt your skin, citrus and something sweet like dove soap that tickled his nose. He could hear your heart beating rapidly underneath your smooth skin, his eyes closed as he relished in your warmness, crazed with want for you but still managing to control himself. You’d be proud of him for not ripping your clothes off like he would’ve done in the past.

You felt his wet hair prickle your cheek as you leaned in just a little bit to him, unable to resist him despite you wanting to.

You frowned at his statement, eyes opening to look at the ceiling, unhappy with the fact that he was in pain but also glad it wasn’t just you.

“Well that’s your own fault, I’m not going to take all the blame. Besides, you weren’t the only one who was hurting, you know.” You scolded rather modestly; hurt didn’t even begin to cover the way he had made you feel even before you left him. He didn’t even know how alone you felt, how unimportant and small he had made you feel. He had no idea of the nights you cried and pleaded to some sort of god to help you make it all work. In the end your efforts were proved pointless when Sukuna never changed, and never even tried to.

You weren’t going to let him make you feel guilty for trying to find something better, you deserved better and you weren’t going to apologize for it. Sukuna may have made you dumber than normal but you weren’t that easy.

Sukuna grit his teeth at the truth lacing your statement, his hand releasing your jaw to slide down your throat, down to your chest, feeling the way your lungs moved and savoring the feel of your soft flesh under his hand. His nails scratched you delicately as he finally stopped and rested his palm right over your heart. It made your body shudder involuntarily, hands clenching at your sides at the warmth his palm resonated onto your beating heart. You swallowed again, eyes nervously flickering over to the back of his head like you could see his face.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, woman. I’m not like that anymore anyway, isn’t that obvious? Don’t you see how I’ve changed for you?” He grumbled against your hot skin, his arm that was on the pillow maneuvering over your head so his hand was by your hair — his fingers toyed with the strands until they were tangled in them. The hand above your heart dug in a little deeper like he wanted to pull it out and squeeze it himself, the rapid thumping vivid against his palm at the way he spoke into your body.

You eyes fluttered shut again, quickly becoming overwhelmed with all the sensations and revelations. Your scalp tingled from the way he gently played with your hair — something he always did with no knowledge of why to you, the sensation dancing down your neck and spine and making your stomach turn pleasurably.

It was starting to get incredibly warm around you, the air buzzing around your bodies and making it harder to breath. You were starting to feel smothered by him and the feelings he brought out of you, yet not completely suffocated by him like you so badly wanted to be.

He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did, he really did. You would say that he had changed somewhat yes, changed in the sense that he wasn’t so vulgar and chaotic as he once was, more silent and self-controlled as maturity usually does to people. But did complex minuscule human concepts such as maturity even affect him anyway? He wasn’t necessarily a human at the end of the day, he wasn’t technically a man with muscle and blood flowing through his own veins, just a passenger in the conduit of another man’s body.

Even if he could change and experience emotional evolution like humans do, how could you say he had when just tonight he was beaten by those same sorcerers he’d been so adamant on destroying a year and a half ago? That didn’t express change nor maturity. Some things do change but a persons motivation only gets stronger; their goals only become shorter. Some things may change but all things do not.

Sukuna took a moment to bring his legs up on the bed, the mattress shaking as he brought them up and laid them out on top of yours. One chiseled leg swung over your thighs and the other snuggled up next to yours, his abdomen throbbing at the movement but he didn’t so much as wince. His full weight was now pushing down on your smaller form, his hips digging into yours and you swore you could feel nothing on him but muscle.

You were glad the blanket separated you from him, you were sure your chest would explode if it was just you and him, skin on skin and heart to heart, breathing the same air and sharing the same space. You guessed you already were, but the blanket felt like some sort of protection from pure intimacy, and this was already plenty enough.

“I want you back with me, I need you with me, forever. Nothing will get between us again, Rosie. I’ll kill anything that tries.” He vowed into your ear with an almost angry growl at just the thought of it. The pet name you held so dear to you made your heart flutter, something he knew when he spoke it.

He lifted his head up again, just enough to look into your eyes but so much closer than he was before — your nose was almost bumping his as he looked at you with such a hungry fierceness you had to clench your fists to control your own self. It was intense, the red of his eyes almost brighter, a dark crimson that swirled like endless pools of blood. The color of love.

You felt this sick glimmer of hope run through you at his words, those damned words you’d wanted to hear for so so long. You looked between his eyes for any semblance of bullshit he might convey, your heart still fragile from heartbreak but just as eager to beat for him again. But then again if you’d listened to your heart you never wouldn’t left him in the first place, you’d still be with that immature curse who so easily threw you to the side when the word power was even mentioned. You had to ignore the ache in your chest for the betterment of your own sanity.

Had he changed from that? Was he really ready to put you first, above anything, above his one true love that you never could compete with? It hurt so much to leave him the first time, you still hadn’t recovered from it. You couldn’t imagine the pain that would come from leaving him a second time.

You were scared now, the silence of the room buzzing in your ears, the shadows reflecting the gentle snowfall from your window as you just stared at him, your reflection in his pupils. You wanted so badly to ignore the past and move on to the future, embrace a new chapter for the both of you, but lessons are learned from past mistakes and they shouldn’t be ignored when the same problem comes running back pleading for forgiveness. It would be foolish to do that.

You wanted him to love you, you wanted to be his everything, you wanted to be his priority but the promise of that seemed too easily spoken given the circumstance.

You shook your head at him, your eyes burning at the notion that this was all some sick lie for him to have you at his beck and call again. You couldn’t handle the heartbreak and humiliation if this was some twisted scheme.

“I want that, too…” You whispered to him, your voice cracking with a particular sadness you didn’t care to hide. You saw the way his eyes looked between yours, how they registered the glossiness of tears threatening to fall. Yes, he did hate it when you cried.

“…But how am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth? How am I supposed to trust you again after everything? I don’t want to say yes and then you’re back to being the same way you were before. I do love you, I love you so much…” You said shakily as you brought your hands up from under the blanket. You put them over his muscled arm that was still laid on your chest, one hand over his and the other grasping his wrist. You squeezed his arm for emphasis, his eyes flickering down to where you held onto him like you didn’t want him to leave (you didn’t).

“But I’m terrified to come back to you and be second to your crown like I always was. If I come back to you, then it needs to be me and you, nothing in between. I want you to love me as greatly as I love you, and as equally. I’m not going to be your second choice anymore, Sukuna, I can’t.” You felt tears slide down your cheeks from each eye and soak into your pillow, a broken whisper in your voice that sounded desperate and pleading, absolutely pitiful, your throat thick and earnest with emotion.

Sukuna felt his jaw clench as the tears rolled down your cheeks, a hatred for himself burning in his lungs at how he did this to you. He didn’t ever like hurting you, which was painfully ironic to him. He found himself not caring about anything other than you in this moment, feeling his own self get choked up at the pain he caused you.

He was hurting too but he could only imagine how much you’ve been hurting. It made him feel awful, so guilty, regret bubbling under his skin. He never wanted you to feel like this again, just the thought of power a small blip in his mind that got smaller the closer he got to you.

He brought his hand down from above your head, his eyes conveying such seriousness you’d never saw before in them, and brought it down to your cheek. It was a sweet gesture, a small one to make up for the tears he gave you. His thumb gently wiped away at the tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, claw tickling your cheekbone as he cupped the side of your face in his warm palm.

You stared up at him as he did, sniffling slightly, your eyes tired and so pathetically heart wrenching as you leaned into the comforting touch of his hand.

“Baby… You’re mine and you’re the only thing I want in this wretched world. If I don’t have you then I have nothing. I crave you… in ways power could never satisfy me. I crave you… in ways your mortal mind could never even imagine…” He rumbled deep and genuine, hungry and primal, his fangs poking out from behind his lips as he spoke. He meant it too, meant it more than you’d ever comprehend. He looked into your eyes as he leaned closer towards you, his nose bumping yours as a small smile graced your lips at his proclamation.

He craved you… not nearly as much as you did him.

Your thighs tightened under the blanket at the raspy, guttural voice of which he spoke, dangerously enticing and lustful in the worst of times. Still, you couldn’t hide your shame as you looked at his lips with that same desire swirling in your tummy at the way he looked at you. You couldn’t help it, he affected you so easily and he always did. Him and that voice, him and those eyes. You couldn’t handle it sometimes.

You wanted him now, wanted him badly, wanted him to bleed those words into you with desperate action. His response did nothing to tame your desire as your hands squeezed around his arm in anticipation, a gleeful feeling twinkling in your heart that made the smile glow on your face.

Sukuna stroked your cheek softly some more, admiringly, as he leaned his head closer to yours, the hand over your heart turning around to intertwine your fingers in his. He squeezed your hand. It was so wholesome and pure and it made your heart jump, your fingers tightening around his own in response as your free hand went up to his cheek.

You swallowed as you both stared at each other for a moment; you felt like you could melt. You grazed your thumb over his cheekbone, tracing the black marking under your hand lovingly.

Sukuna leaned closer to you, his breath warm on your lips. He leaned into your hand, cocking his head into it as he relished in the feeling of your skin on his warm cheek. His hair was still damp, your chest breathless as you waited for him to close the distance between his lips and yours like you wanted him to, knowing he was going to anyway with the way he looked between your lips and your eyes with equal longing.

“You’re my sweet Rosie.” He whispered deeply and sincerely into the night before finally pressing his lips to yours in a hot, heartfelt kiss that spared him the need to express himself over spoken word.

You closed your eyes and sunk under the mattress as he laid his full weight on you, collapsing into you as though you sucked the soul out of him, a moan sounding from your throat as another tear fell from your eye, only for a different reason entirely. Your hand that was on his cheek reached behind his head and crawled into his damp hair, grasping the pink locks and holding his lips against you so he couldn’t leave.

He growled lowly into your mouth at the sharp feeling, his skin lit ablaze as a pleasurable stir pulled at his lower stomach.

He wanted you, wanted you so bad, wanted to rip your clothes off and feel your tight pussy squeeze around his cock until it was gushing around him. He missed that feeling, craved it more than air. But even he could feel that tonight was different; he didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to show his love and appreciation to you in the best way he knew how. He wanted to feel every inch of your skin pulsing against his, feel your lips on him and your hand in his as the both of you chose to forget everything that happened before the moment he came inside you. He wanted to make love to you.

His hand that was intertwined with yours pulled them up to the top of your head so he could get closer to you, his other hand gliding down from your chest until it was at the rim of your black tank top — it was the black lacy one, another thing he’d bought for you and a detail he didn’t overlook.

He didn’t rip it off quite yet, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his sharp teeth ran against it, his hand squeezing yours from above your head. You couldn’t help the small moan that sounded at the painful, pleasurable tingle that had Sukuna pressing his hardening cock into you from over the blanket. He always loved your sounds, loved the way you cried his name and moaned out more, more, more.

Sukuna pulled himself away with his lips wet, already wanting to put them back on you. He panted against you hard and slow, fangs bared as his eyes roamed your face. The flush of your cheeks and your glimmering eyes, so gorgeous with your hair fanned out beneath you, all his once again. You looked back at him, your eyes hooded and your lips puffy and pink, glimmering with shared saliva.

“Take off your top or I’ll rip it off.” He breathed aggressively into your mouth, nose bumping into yours as his hand clutched the black fabric between his sharp nails.

You looked down at your top when he mentioned it, too distracted to really care about anything besides him and thought of what his lips felt like on yours. You were too far gone now, any remnants of sadness having melted away and just as quickly replaced with salacious want, wanting, needing him to just put his lips back on yours for another kiss that had been long overdue.

You looked back up at him with panting breaths, fingers clutching his hair as the space between you felt too long and cold without his mouth in the way of it. Your eyes met his again, the both of you greedy for more and each one of you as hopelessly devoted as the other. You had a feeling it would stay that way this time.

“Then rip it off…” You sighed wantonly, voice thick and raspy as you pushed his face back down to yours with no chance of a word between.

His hand squeezed your much smaller one, the tips of his nails prickling your skin as you swore you heard him snarl against your mouth. You groaned hotly as his tongue tangled with yours in that expert way only he knew you liked, your hips pushing up against his growing cock shamelessly.

The thick red duvet, which was once a form of protection for you just a few minutes ago, was now only an irritating nuisance keeping you and the object of your desires separated. You maneuvered your feet and sloppily kicked it down until it slid off your knees, the cold air hitting your bare legs as Sukuna’s leg pressed up into your inner thighs.

Sukuna gripped the rim of your top and quickly ripped it down the middle with barely any strength, the straps snapping off your shoulders as you inhaled sharply from the slight sting of it. You arched your back into him, lips still moving fervently against each others as he crumbled the frail material in his hands and tossed it somewhere; it slid off your skin smoothly.

Your bare chest and stomach were now exposed to him yet you felt no insecurity; you never did when it came to Sukuna, he always made you feel desired in his own way and that was enough to show you he loved you.

Sukuna kissed you one more time, bringing your bottom lip into his mouth and slowly sucking on it, his fangs piercing into your skin as he licked the sting away. You whined as he ensured to look at you while he did it, obsessed with the way your eyes fluttered and your hand tightened in his hair. He seperated from you finally after a moment, your lip popping back into place.

The erotica of it all made your core clench around nothing, a wetness filling your lower lips that made it almost wrongful that nothing was down there to fill it yet. Sukuna felt the effects of you as well, his cock pressing into your black shorts hard and eager. You were well aware of it but Sukuna was doing so good at distracting you from it, she was well aware of it.

Sukuna immediately brought his hands down to your breasts once they were freed, looking down at the way the soft globes of flesh molded into his hands and jiggled when he moved them. They were soft and smooth and spilled between his fingers so beautifully. He had missed them so fucking much, almost having forgotten what they felt like in his hands. He clenched his jaw and groaned, groaned, as he scooted down towards them, licking his lips as he squeezed them in his big hands.

“Nngh — that feels good, baby…” You sighed at the pleasurable sensation shooting through you as he played with your titties, your nipples sensitive as always, as he knew. His claws dug into your skin as he squeezed them harder, your hips jerking up instinctively as a shock ran through you. Your stomach was twisted, your pussy so needy and sobbing between your thighs as he nibbled on your collarbone.

“Yeah, feels good, pretty girl?” He rumbled into your skin, licking and mouthing at your chest as he rubbed your breasts in slow circles, applying pressure as he did. Your chest was covered in wet marks and pink circles, your hands somehow having found their way on top of Sukuna’s, holding his hands there as he rubbed them.

“I love these tits, they’re mine aren’t they? They always were.” He hissed, voice grumbling like fallen mountain rocks as he slid down your body a little more, his cock rubbing on the skin of your thigh and it was only now you realized he was naked. Had he come in your room that way? Who cares, you were just waiting for the moment you were too.

“Mmhmm, unghh — they always were.” You mumbled in a pleasure induced haze as you arched your back into him, your head thrown back into your silky red pillows and eyes closed as your thighs tightened around his leg. His hands slid down to your waist as yours found their way to his broad shoulders.

“That’s fucking right they were…” He kissed the valley of your breasts, licking your skin and grazing his fangs in a way that made your body flutter; you felt so good already, so good and weightless from his big hands and sharp lips alone. He was always so good at touching you, knowing every nerve and knowing how to pinpoint each one that made you a messy, needy puddle underneath him; he specialized in the art of your pleasure, an expert in the waves of your body in a way you weren’t even in tune with it.

Finally, finally, he slid his head over and licked a stripe up to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth like it wasn’t hard enough. You moaned rather loudly, your hands flying up to his hair and rubbing anything you touched in a mindless act of delicious satisfaction. He groaned into your skin at the way you clawed at his hair like a desperate slut, licking and sucking on your nipple as his hand went and rubbed the other one, fingertips and claws circling your other nipple that made sweet tingles pebble onto your hot skin.

His eyes flickered up to you, looking up at your parted lips and your eyes squeezed shut, feeling his cock throb with need to feel you around him already. He was hard, so painfully hard, stuffed between your thigh and his. He liked seeing you like this though, liked seeing the effect he had on you and hearing how you whined for him. He wanted to be buried inside you already, so deep you believed the tip of his cock was pressing into your guts. But he liked this better, a cruel part of him still wanting to tease your sweet pussy just a little longer until you were so needy for him he could see it staining your shorts.

He wasn’t going to wait too long though, it had been too long since he was balls deep in that tight pussy; even a man (thing) as strong as Sukuna had his limits, already bursting at the seams.

His hand eagerly slid down your stomach, pushing past your shorts as your legs widened for him. You bit your lip, hips chasing his hand as he crawled his way down… down… down…

You moaned shamelessly and sweetly as his long, lithe middle finger split down the middle of your lower lips, your wetness leaking down his finger and dripping down to his palm as the smell of your arousal hit his sharp nose. He clenched his jaw, lips twisting into a primal growl at the sweet smell of it. God, it was better than anything on this earth, and he couldn’t believe he was almost going to live a lifetime without it.

“Oh my god! Oh my god…” You panted, voice high pitched and pathetically whiney as you desperately grasped at his chiseled shoulders with rapacious hands.

He picked his head up, fingers sliding out of your shorts and leaving a stick white trail up to your waist. His eyes glowed a deep red in the darkness, now looking up at your face, your breasts covered in purple stains and teeth marks.

“Not god, Rosie. Me, only me. I missed this pussy baby… so wet for me like I knew you’d be… my pretty girl… you’re mine forever, I’ll kill anything that tries to take you from me.” He exclaimed possessively, his voice thick with love and a burning hunger that scratched at his throat. He was full of danger and promise, your hands scratching at his shoulders as his exclamation only seemed to make you wetter for him.

“I only wanna be yours anyway…” You mumbled back wistfully, any thought crossing your mind carelessly said out loud as you gazed down at his eyes. You had mentioned he made your thoughts all muddle together. Your skin buzzed with electricity like the workings of a light bulb, your heart pumping in your ears and your skin pasty with sweat already.

You couldn’t stop moving your fingers across Sukuna’s skin — he shivered at the feeling, any muscle you could touch that could’ve been carved from a dotiing gods chisel as far as you knew. You were too alive to keep still, bursting with love and unabashed lechery that had your pussy aching for him.

You both shared a tender look, your hand coming around and grazing his cheek delicately as you gazed drunkenly into his eyes. He cocked his head into your palm, reaching up and laying a sweet kiss on your chin, his pink hair tickling your lips. You smiled at that, putting a finger under his chin and jolting his mouth up so you could give him a peck.

He licked his lips after you did, his eyes staring at your mouth before giving you another sweet kiss that lasted a few short seconds before he was looking into your eyes again.

“I love you, pretty.” He said so quietly anybody else would’ve never heard him.

You could hear the earnestness in his baritone voice, your hands coming up to cup both his cheeks. You were so proud of him for being so uncharacteristically open, vulnerable. You knew how hard it was for him to be that way, which only made it all the more special to you that he was. It was a small detail that convinced you he loved you. You felt your heart swell with a gorge of emotion for him. He felt the same. You admired the black markings on his face, his lower set of eyes closed as you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I love you too, stupid.” You responded wholeheartedly, a faint whisper shared between you for his ears only. You gave him one last kiss before he slid back down and starting mouthing at your jaw.

You sunk further into the pillows as you sighed pleasurably at the way he kissed your body, hands ruffled in his hair once more as he trailed further and further down until he was licking down your stomach. You didn’t wait for him as you brought your hands down and hooked your thumbs into the edges of your shorts, wiggling out of them so he didn’t have to do it for you. You kicked them off your feet, the soft plop of them hitting the floor falling on deaf ears as you were finally, truly exposed to him now.

Sukuna glanced up at you before sliding all the way down, his abdomen dully throbbing at the way he was bent over the edge of the bed. He groaned hungrily at the sight of your pussy, glistening with white, sticky strings of arousal that even shined on your inner thighs.

His dick throbbed at the sight of it, his mind already filled with ideas of how good you were going to feel wrapped around him.

He brought his hand down from your hip, shamelessly running it over your wet lips as his claw grazed the hood of your clit. Your thighs jolted at that as you panted above him, releasing soft, airy moans as you waited for him to do something, anything to you.

“So perfect…” He growled, his index finger joining his middle as he scissored your lips open, a wet sticky sound separating them as he gazed upon your clenching, glistening hole and puffy, pretty clit. It was even more beautiful than he remembered, his two fingers sliding down your insides and messily spreading your wetness around.

It was a sickly wet sound that sounded in the room, your cheeks a bashful pink as your hands grasped the sheets.

Sukuna’s mouth watered, rubbing your wetness around some more as his claw circled your tight hole. He watched as a glob of wetness dripped out to the crack of your ass, staining the sheet below. Your legs jerked as you whined, “Sukuna…”

He took his hand off of you, your stomach painfully twisted like a rubber band bound to break at any fragile moment as you slumped in disappointment at the loss of his hands on you. He brought his two fingers into his mouth and tasted you again after a year and a half of being starved. He groaned quietly at the taste, sweet and bitter as he licked your arousal off his fingers. Usually he’d finger you, but his nails were too sharp and too long for that now. He’d have to remember to cut them off later on.

“Taste so good, Rosie.” He uttered gutturally, a crazed man almost as his hands rubbed at your inner thighs and spread you open just bit more for him.

You gulped down a dry throat, your hands pulling at his pink hair again as he licked and nibbled at your thighs, his thumb massaging the other one his mouth wasn’t able to be on. Your pussy was practically screaming at this point, begging for his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his cock, anything to just relieve the pain throbbing through your whole lower area. You’d never felt this needy before, broken down to a wailing, horny mess that needed to be filled more than anything.

“Please, please, I want it already…” You babbled nonsensically, hands grabbing at the strands of his hair and pulling his head closer to your pussy so he’d get the hint. It was shameless and desperate but you didn’t care, you needed him.

He smiled wickedly at that, the sting on his scalp making his spine tingle. He was pleased with the way you begged for it without him even having to ask, not that he’d make you do it this time, he wanted this just as much as you did.

He glanced up at your twisted face, ruined with pleasure he was giving you, before he looked back down at your slick womanhood. The moon barely shined down on its full glory, he thought, gladly anticipating the moment he’d see it in the day. He slid his hands up your thighs and hooked his thumbs onto your lips, spreading them wide open so he could see your insides clearly.

You bit your lip, thighs helplessly tightening around his arms as he stared it, entranced, for a few short moments. He salivated at the sight like a starved man looking at a four course meal. You were tastier than that.

He moved forward and licked a confidant stripe up the expanse of your spread pussy, tasting your arousal on his tongue as it dripped down the corners of his lips. He moaned into you at the taste, licking up and down with a broad tongue for a few moments before he had to pull away and taste you again.

You squealed, keening and shaking, arching your back and digging your heels into the bed at the way your core pulsed waves of indescribable pleasure through your legs. You felt breathless and dizzy, clenching around air as his spit dribbled down your opening.

Sukuna leaned his head back, licking his lips as he swallowed the mix of saliva and wetness pooled on his tongue. His eyes closed in ecstasy, already thirsty for more as he growled, shoving his head back into your pussy and sucking on your clit, the slick sounds of you loud in your ears; you were almost embarrassed at how wet he had made you.

Your thighs closed around his head when the sensations became too much, squeezing around his ears as your mouth opened in querulous gasps and cries. His hands had wrapped themselves around your legs at some point or another, his veins throbbing and muscles flexing as he relatively tried to keep your bucking hips pinned down.

You wished you could see how could he looked from between your legs, but you couldn’t focus on one single thing, your mind a scrambled mess. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, an orgasm already chipping away at your tummy from how sensitive you were.

“Oh! Ahh, baby!” You yelled in a high pitch, both of your hands gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white. You heard the snap of the sheet flying off the corner of the bed, curling in itself as another corner popped off. Your stomach tensed as he licked down again, his tongue thrusting into your hole until your wetness was glistening over his cheeks. He groaned into you, the vibrations shaking your soul as his nose rubbed against your wet clit.

It had been so so long since you’ve had this, you missed it and you missed him.

It was vulgar and nasty, just the way he liked it as his spit mixed with your glossy wetness, sliding down until the sheets were soaked in a dark patch of saliva and arousal. You tasted so good he couldn’t even describe it, his eyes closed still as he relished in the taste of you smeared over his tongue, sliding down his chin and dripping onto the bed as he made an absolute mess out of you.

You couldn’t breath, throat dry as cracked moans left parted lips. You were panting as your stomach tightened and tightened and tightened… and with a few more eager licks you felt it snap, a long moan drowning out his lustful groan as a flood of wetness gushed into his mouth and splashed on his cheeks.

Your thighs shook horribly, your skin beating off and on like a flashing light as your heart pounded in your head, sweat beading at your hairline. You came much quicker than you usually would have, but it’d been so long without Sukuna that your arousal had no where to go during this past year, building up inside you, waiting for the day he would come back and shatter the wall holding it all together.

You breathed heavily, the room hot and stuffy as your body slumped down into the mattress like the life had been drained from your veins. Your hands released their tight grip on the sheet as your body patiently calmed itself down.

Your orgasm dripped down Sukuna’s chin as he took his mouth off you, looking up at your tired face with heavy eyes and slow breaths. His eyes ran over your face and body, covered in his teeth marks and hickies he’d littered over your skin. Yes, you were his and he had proven it, a small, adoring smirk quirking on his mouth.

He licked the remnants of your orgasm off his lips, unhooking his arms from around your thighs and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. He kissed your thighs one last time before crawling up your body, your skin glowing with happiness and sweat. He took his time to kiss your skin as he went, savoring the feeling of it under his lips. Your legs jolted unevenly in the aftershock, your mind so hazy and jumbled you felt disconnected from reality altogether, barely conscious to the way he dotted loving kisses up your body.

Sukuna kissed his way up your stomach, up your chest, careful not to do too much that could frazzle you anymore as he let you find yourself again. He nuzzled his face into your neck once he worked himself all the way up your body, his hands tenderly gliding up your sides until they were grabbing at your midsection.

The same hands he’d used to kill thousands of men now holding you between them yet you knew you were in no real danger. He massaged the skin under his palms, feeling your heart beat rapidly under his head as he couldn’t care less about the sweat clinging to your skin.

“You’re all right, pretty…” He uttered into your neck, kissing your damp skin dotingly as you took deep breaths to steady yourself.

You brought a hand up and clumsily tangled it in his hair, grounding yourself to him as you lightly rubbed his head in an effort to comfort yourself — his pink locks now dry but his scalp damp with sweat. You inhaled deeply, exhaling just as focused as your heart began to slow once more and your legs stopped twitching.

You both waited a few moments in amorous silence, his hands softly stroking your sides as he rested his head on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to come back to him again.

You hummed when you felt calm enough, his fingers sparking tingles up and down your body that had your pussy clenching once more. You turned your head towards him and kissed his hair to grab his attention, needy once more and not too proud to beg.

Sukuna perked his head up at the action, his hand trailing up your body and coming up to your face, looking as a strand of hair fell out of place and dusted over your eyelash. He didn’t hesitate to move it out the way with his nail, tucking it behind your ear in a corny romantic way that made your heart flutter. His gaze was heavy and warm-hearted as he looked back into your eyes, your other hand coming up and loosely grabbing his wrist as his hand settled on the crook of your jaw.

You leaned closer to him and he didn’t shy away, eyes looking all over your face before settling on the ravenous look in your dazzling eyes; it was subtle, swirling behind your love for him but like he said he knew you better than you knew yourself. It made his lip quirk at how quickly you seemed to recover from your orgasm already.

“I want you...” You mumbled piteously with an adorable pout on your lips as you pressed them almost against his. Your hand clutched a little tighter in his hair, leg nudging into his as you turned towards him with a new fervor striking through your loins. It had been too long without him and your body knew it, your pussy knowing how close he was to finally giving her the one thing she’d wanted for so long.

His eyes glistened with gluttonous understanding and recognition at your tone, his eyes hooded and slanted and dark. It was a piercing gaze, all consuming and vigorous at the realization that you wanted just what he wanted, just a much.

He hummed sensually at that, “oh yeah? What else you want?” He grumbled lustfully, his eyes flickering between the way you looked at him and your lips, still swollen from all the times he nibbled them just minutes ago. You didn’t fight when he pushed you down to hover over you again, a hand cupping your cheek as his sharp thumb nail ran over the plushness of your lips.

You sighed sweetly, looking at his mouth, “I want you to fuck me already.”

He clenched his jaw at your words, his cock so so so painfully hard as it stood up against his abdomen, leaking out a bead of pre cum that dribbled down the length of him.

You noticed the way his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your dirty words, biting your lip as you slowly stroked your hand down his broad chest, down to his abs where you were careful to avoid the bandage there, then trickling down to where the head of his cock was. You didn’t touch it yet, just felt his body shudder at the way you ran your nail against his skin like an innocent vixen.

He looked at you, shattered, like he could crack at any second as his hands clenched into the pillow under each side of your head. He wanted to see what you’d do; he’d always liked when you got cocky like this, your confidence a huge turn on for the otherwise dominant man. You batted your eyelashes at him cutely, finger softly swirling random shapes into his skin just above his leaking tip.

“I want you to make me yours again…” You sighed, daring to look into his eyes as you moved your hand down and ran the tip of your finger up the underside of his hard cock, tracing the familiar vein there.

Sukuna groaned then, a mix of a hot moan and a powerless rumble, almost collapsing on top of you as the strength in his arms faltered. Sparks ran through his cock, sharp and pleasurable and needing more.

You smiled at him as his eyes flashed to you, the fury burning in them the last thing you saw before he was kissing you desperately, messy and hot, his breath hitting your tongue and his teeth clashing against yours as his big arms fell around you, his larger body swallowing you whole.

You mewled into him, arms swinging around his neck as you wrapped your legs around his thighs, hips pushing up into him, so eager and wet already.

“You want my cock, huh? How badly do you want it?” He hissed into your mouth, his hand going down and resting on your tummy, feeling the warmth of your skin on his palm.

You whined, “so bad… I want it so bad.” You were way past trying to seem cute, now a mess, a mess he made you that ached for him so bad it physically hurt. You didn’t have the patience anymore, you wanted him deep inside you, so deep it hurt your insides but you’d still beg for more like the good girl you were for him.

He moaned heavily at that, moaned, the sound making a wave of arousal gush out of you as your legs tightened around him. He brought the hand down that was on your tummy and wrapped it around his throbbing cock, sighing at the slight relief it brought him as he sloppily grabbed it and positioned it between your legs.

He felt eager and greedy as he messily ran his thick tip through your soaking wet folds a few times, gathering your wetness on him as he used his hand to spread it all along his length. You and him both stared down at him, your pussy clenching as you dug your nails into his forearms, impatiently watching for him to push it in already.

A year and half without him, a year and half without his perfect, pretty cock, a year and half of waiting for this exact moment and now it was finally here. It was almost surreal, your eyes blinking as you bit your lip, trying to muff the moan that wanted to sound at just the sight of his dick you’d missed so fucking much. It was just as big and long as you remembered, smothered with white strings of your shared arousal.

Sukuna looked back up at you, gripping his cock in his hand with his eyes dark and primal. You whimpered, nails digging into his skin.

“Kiss me.” He ordered huskily. You did, pushing his head down to you and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

During the kiss, Sukuna positioned his cock head at your entrance, pushing past your slick until he was prodding at your hole. You whined, legs tightening around him to push him inside you further. He groaned into your mouth, hot and needy, as he pushed it inside you and stretched out your hole to fit his size. You both moaned together at the indescribable feeling of him slowly pushing his full length into you, of him filling you up and of you squeezing him into your tight heat.

“Fuck… you’re so tight, baby. This pussy’s hungry for me, isn’t she? She missed her King just as much as you, didn’t she?” He snarled against your lips, absolutely feral as your tightness squeezed him, so warm and hot and taking him in so smoothly. He had missed this feeling so fucking much, spent so many nights with his dick in his fist at the memory of your sweet pussy.

You gasped against his mouth, your arms swinging around his back and digging into the muscle there. You felt so full, your toes curling already as you threw your head back on your pillow. Pleasure, pure pleasure in a form you only ever experienced with him pulsed through your body as deep as your bone marrow.

Sukuna slid halfway out, the friction you caused making him hiss between his teeth as he thrusted back in. He wasn’t quick, savoring in the feeling of you around him as your wetness gushed out from around him and wet his thighs.

“Ahh, oh my god, I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasped breathlessly, voice broken as you moaned against his lips, blood bubbling around your fingernails from how hard they dug into him.

He stared down at you with his lips twisted in pleasure, watching your face closely as he slid in and out, the light smacking sound your wetness made every time he thrusted back in only motivating him to fuck you a bit faster.

Your titties bounced softly from the movement, muscles tensing as your lips parted open and tears prickled at your eyes. Sukuna couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think straight besides the fact you felt so fucking good, his legs tight with every push back in he struggled to make because of your tightness. He hadn’t fucked you in so long your pussy wasn’t quite used to him yet. Don’t fret, he was going to enjoy stretching it back out to accustom him again.

He was soft and sweet against you as you both just let yourselves embrace this long overdue moment, careful not to squeeze too hard as his hands found their place on your waist again. He wasn’t squeezing so hard it’d hurt, just hard enough you could feel his longing for you thrumming under his fingertips; oceans of his love connecting you and him through subtle currents of yearning touches and soft kisses.

This was so unfamiliar to you — unfamiliar but very much welcomed. You felt smothered and sweaty, fingers digging into his back muscles and lips locked with his as he pressed himself against you. But it still wasn’t enough; you pressed him harder against you, begging for more, more, more.

Sukuna was supposed to be evil and terrible; he broke your heart once and he just might do it again but who were you to judge him when you enabled him? Who were you to hate him when you brought this on yourself? All you could do was trust him as he was all you had, all you wanted. He just might break your heart again but you’d let him if it meant he’d come back like this every time to put you two back together. Without him you were nothing, you weren’t whole, and without you he wasn’t anything either.

You moaned against his lips at a particularly deep thrust inside you, his hands on yours thighs now as his claws dug into your skin so painfully good you knew you would wake up with the bruised marks of his love carved into you.

“Ahh, Rosie. My Rosie…” He breathed into your neck deep and husky, sinking his fangs into your shoulder with his own stomach in hopeless knots at the way you so snugly wrapped him. He couldn’t believe he ever let this pussy leave him, how he functioned so long without it, but he supposed he didn’t really function, he was just good at pretending.

He felt you gush around his cock again with a sweet moan on his ear, his hands moving up your body and gliding up your back. He wrapped his arms around yours, holding your face to his so he could hear every little gasp and whimper that left your pretty lips for him.

You moaned into his neck, relishing in the closeness he gave you. He felt so good and deep, buried in your guts as your tits rocked against his chest with every movement.

His wounds were sore, so sore and painful, but god he couldn’t stop and he wouldn’t, he needed more of you, all of you. He wasn’t going to stop until you were creaming around his cock like you used to.

He was a greedy man, never denied that fact nor questioned it. He was greedy and selfish, wanted you or nothing at all, wanted everything you’d give him and he’d happily take it like the greedy creature he was.

If loving Sukuna made you selfish so be it, if loving him made you foolish so be it. You’d be foolish and selfish if it meant he’d never let you go again. You’d take that risk, you’d risk your sanity if it meant he’d stay inside you forever, bonded with you and stuck to you; I’m yours as long as you are mine.

And as he came inside you with a hefty groan into your neck as he squeezed you into him, it only confirmed that fact as you came around him just a short moment after; I’m yours as long as you are mine… maybe I’ll always be yours anyway.

[lilacfiresoul]

spring, april 1 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 619 words

They’d slept with the window open last night.

It was partially Regulus’ fault; the clocks had turned forward an hour, and he’d been up late, perched on the sloping roof watching the stars pass by, without realising twelve o’clock had turned into two, bypassing one am completely and hurtling Regulus into the next day without a moment’s breath.

One of the best things about living in a small village, in the middle of rural England, is that the light pollution staining the sky from distant cities doesn’t touch here, and Regulus can stare up at the sky and see stars twinkling back.

He’d climbed back inside shortly after, drowsy, completely forgetting to close the windows and curtains as he’d fallen back into bed with James.

Now, as Regulus is pulled from sleep by the sounds of birds chirping, the full onslaught of the sun hits him square in the face as he opens his eyes. Squinting, blinking away bright impressions on his irises, he lifts a hand up to block the light as he leans over to check the time.

Nine o’clock.

Spring is definitely here, and it’s not holding back.

James is still sleeping, on his stomach, his face turned towards Regulus, one arm curled up underneath the pillow to bunch it closer to his cheek. The bedsheets are gathered around his waist—clearly, he got too hot in the night and kicked them off—and the sunlight plays across the surface of his back, ducking between the divots of his spine, smoothing over the slope of his shoulders.

Regulus stares at him, James’ lips slowly parted as he breathes, eyelashes dark against his cheeks. Rays of sunlight dance between the strands of his hair, and he is a Greek god sleeping after a weary battle, Achilles or Apollo, racing with his chariot to pull up the sunrise, every muscle and bone sculptured from pure gold.

“I can feel you staring,” James murmurs. He doesn’t open his eyes, nor move, but he inhales deeply, his back rising and falling with his breath.

Regulus presses his lips together and doesn’t even try to stop his blush of embarrassment. “Can I not stare at my husband whilst he sleeps?”

James cracks open his eyes then, just one, to grin at Regulus before closing it again, snuggling further into the pillow. His voice comes out soft, tired. “Bit creepy, don’t you think? Stalker-ish.”

“We’ve been married for two years,” Regulus reminds him.

With a noise of contentment, one of James’ arms comes out from under the covers to drag Regulus over to him, pulling him into his body. Regulus is all too happy to settle there, tucking his face under James’ chin, breathing in the smell that is just purely James that he can’t describe to anyone else. James, in turn, presses his cheek into Regulus’ hair, his fingers moving to slightly trace lines down his back. It makes Regulus shiver.

“Oh, the window’s open,” James comments, voice still laced with sleep. “Did you leave it like that?”

“Yeah, I forgot to close it.”

One of their neighbours outside starts mowing their lawn, the repeated growl of the motor infiltrating into their bedroom for a few seconds before it purrs to life.

“It’s nine o’clock, you know,” Regulus tells James gently.

James hums, still running fingers along Regulus’ back. “So?”

“So,” Regulus continues. “Don’t you want to get up? It’s sunny out today.”

Neither of them move. James just sighs, pulling Regulus closer. “Five more minutes.”

It’s around one in the afternoon when they both finally get out of bed.

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire: The Epilogue

biker!Eddie x artist!Reader

biker!Steve x Astrid (fem!OC)

masterlist playlist

wc: 14.6k

18+ONLY as always, adult themes, allusions to smut, backyard union/wedding, violence, auto theft, hustling, fist fight, mention of blood, mention of guns and shooting, relationship issues, Eddie is a cat dad, tw: Charlene, alcohol consumption, healing, lots of love.

Summary: If you're one of my ride or dies who have read this far, you know what to expect, but I do mention pregnancy and kids more than a few times, for good reason. We get to check in with what the gang has been up to, and how the families have grown. A little bit of drama, of course, and Coffin Kings mayhem. For the sake of this story, the character Bones is meant to be Tom Hardy from the yet to be released movie The Bikeriders.

A/N: This is reallyyy more of another chapter more and an Epilogue, lmaoo. I love all of these characters so much that I keep wanting to spin off in different directions and write a bunch of niche stories; I can see myself living in this world for a long while. I know I say it all the time, but my IoF readers mean so much to me, and I really hope you enjoy this. Please see a second author's note at the end.

--------

Highway 22 had once been the only main road out of town, but since the freeway came to Hawkins in the 60’s, very few ever took the country road lined with cornfields and alfalfa crops.  There were several homesteads scattered about, mostly farmers, and all of them spaced out by several acres; but for the home of the Whittiers—Bob and Helen—who just happened to live across the street from the place once owned by the Fergusons.

The first time they heard the rumble of motorcycles approaching, Helen screamed through the living room that it must be an airplane flying too low, about to crash into them.  She nudged Bob awake from his nap in the recliner and then ran out onto the porch, wringing her hands.

What she found was a motorcycle gang, clad in leather and covered in tattoos, crawling twenty deep into the driveway of their newest neighbors.

It was rare for Eddie to invite the entire local Coffin Kings MC and a few of the Hells Belles over, but the ceremony for Steve and Astrid’s union was an exception.  She was 8 months pregnant with the twins at the time, bursting at the seams, but Steve had this bug up his ass that he needed them to be official before the babies came, and Bones was happy to officiate.

Under an arbor in the neatly manicured lawn of your front yard, flanked in willow trees and cherry blossoms, Robin stood as Steve’s best man, and pretended like she’d lost the ring during the ceremony when he asked for it.  The panic in his face made everyone in attendance snicker when she pulled it from the tiny pocket of her vest with a wink.  Steve wore black suit pants with a collared white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, under his Coffin Kings leather.  Astrid looked stunning in a hunter green, off-the-shoulder dress with a few pieces of simple, gold jewelry, and a baby’s breath flower crown in her hair. 

Astrid didn’t need a ring, or any traditional symbols, and the material stuff meant nothing to her, but Steve insisted.  He took the extra step of getting her name tattooed on his ring finger, which made her roll her eyes and fall more in love with him all at once.  

You stood at Astrid’s side, making eyes at your boyfriend Eddie who was extremely handsome in his leather and a suit in the front row.  You were still reeling at the idea that this was your life, as fear kept trying to creep in and tell you it was all a dream, or that something would happen at any second to take it all away at any moment.  

You’d barely had the keys to the farmhouse for two months before the wedding, and so things were still stacked in boxes on the main floor, and the plumbing was a mess, but every morning, Eddie kissed you goodbye before work, and then you padded over in bare feet to the empty space with south facing windows that would soon be your studio. 

Wayne gave Astrid away, and there were tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.  Once the official “I do’s” were said, everyone, including the bikers and their families in attendance, started to hoot and whistle for the kiss.  Steve held her face in his hands, and it was deep and sweet and made the obnoxious howling from the crowd melt into a collective swoon before erupting in applause.

Eddie’s heart swelled with love, not only for his friends who were finally getting the happy ending they deserved, but for you, and the promise of the life you were building together.  Neither one of you held the matrimonial traditions of society in high regard and didn’t need a piece of paper to prove that you were devoted to each other, but right then, watching you stand with Astrid, he thought about dropping to one knee and begging you to be his wife.

Neither one of you had a family history of marriage keeping people together, in fact, it had mostly only succeeded in fucking everything up.  In his heart, it was till death do you part, and that was all that mattered.  In fact, he planned on finding you in the afterlife as well.

Steve had Oliver on his shoulders while they cut the cake, but what everyone didn’t know was that Astrid was fighting some stomach cramping.  She figured it was the two babies kicking from all of the excitement, but the second the music started for the reception, her water broke.  

“This can’t be happening right now,” Steve was flabbergasted, holding up his wife so that she didn’t sink to the ground.  “They’re not due for another month?”

“Oh it’s happening,” Astrid gushed, framing her belly with her hands. “They are coming.”

“Take my car,” Katie offered, digging around in her purse for her keys.  The driveway was full of vehicles, pinning in Astrid’s truck, but Katie’s car was further out, near the highway.  

“We’ll be right behind you,” Eddie shouted, reaching for your hand.

Dustin was the voice of reason, stepping in front of him while the others headed for the vehicle.

“She could be in labor for hours, and you’ve got guests,” Henderson reminded his friend.  He was there with his wife Suzie and their daughter Stevie. “I say stay here, man.  Robin can call you from the hospital with an update.”

For a second, it had slipped both of your minds that you even had guests; approximately 87 of them.  

The big speakers Eddie had hooked up to a sound system were playing Hold onto Me by Cowboy Junkies, and the two of you turned to stare at each other, wondering what to do.  

“Dustin’s right,” you looked around, eyes settling on your ex-coworker Jeff who was drinking red wine straight from the bottle. “I don’t want anyone to puke in our bedroom or something.”

Suzie handed you a glass of champagne, ring finger heavy with a Princess cut diamond.  “I promise you, those babies probably won’t poke their heads out until morning.”

You just hoped nothing went wrong, since Astrid confided in you that labor had been notoriously hard on the women in her family; there had even been a few mothers who didn’t make it.  What if they needed to do an emergency C-section? What if one of them started to come out sideways?  

You were about to take a sip of the sweet bubbles when you saw Steve jogging back in your direction.

“Katie’s car is dead,” he huffed, headed for the back patio where his Harley was parked.

Craning your neck down the long row of cars, you saw Astrid sitting on the front bumper of the dark blue sedan with Oliver holding onto her arm while Robin and Katie appeared to be having an argument.  You were sure it was nothing personal, but tensions were high.

“Hold tight, let me grab the jumper cables,” Eddie jogged alongside Steve, aiming for the garage.

“Nah, it’ll take too long, we need to get out of here,” Steve was throwing a leg over his bike and revving the engine before Eddie could offer another suggestion.

You ran up beside Eddie. “He’s driving her to the hospital on that?”

“It appears that way,” Eddie stepped back so that Steve could roll by the two of you, fishtailing through the lawn before jumping a rock bed and weaving between the vehicles to pick up Astrid.

A lot of pregnant women might have hesitated to go by motorcycle, but Astrid did not.  She didn’t hesitate to get on behind him, knowing that the sooner they got to the hospital, the less likely things would go wrong.  Making room for her ample stomach took a moment of adjusting, but she strapped her helmet on before tapping his shoulder to let him know she was ready.

“You’re insane!” Robin shouted at him, and then she covered her face in frustration.  

Bones, Devlin, Van, Ratchet, and a few others went along as escorts, clearing the highway with their own bikes so that Steve could have the road. 

Across the street, Helen was on her porch with a pair of binoculars.  “Bob? Where are they taking that pregnant woman?”

Bob was in the living room with the TV on, and he pretended not to hear her.  

“The music is loud enough,” she scoffed.  “The whole thing better quiet down by 10 or I’m calling the police.”

If so, that wouldn’t be the first time she’d called the cops about her across-the-way neighbors.  The first time was during the week they’d moved in, and a couple of the Kings came over to help unload furniture.  Helen reported that there was a gang breaking into the Ferguson place to steal things.

“Let me get this straight,” Hopper twirled a pencil between two fingers while he spoke into the phone.  “They’re stealing things by putting them back inside the house?”

He very politely talked her down from a ledge, and then drove by on the highway to give her a wave so that she felt safe.  

The Velvet Hammer was closed the day of the wedding, as most of the employees were guests.  But the next day, Shana opened up the bar at 10, harboring one of the worst hangovers of her adult life.  

The shrill ringing of the phone made it feel like a buzzsaw was cutting through her skull, and Jackie leaned over the bar counter to snatch the receiver.

It was you, letting them know that Astrid had given birth to two healthy baby girls named Gracie and Rue early that morning, and that labor had been horrific, but their mother was on the mend.

Poor Steve.  When the doctor came out and said there were “complications”, he nearly tore down the wall trying to get in there to his wife.  The first baby, Rue, started to come out feet first, and he had this terrifying thought of the umbilical cord getting stuck around her neck or something, but once they got her turned around, the rest went smoothly.  He did the best he could to coach her through the breathing techniques they’d learned in the Lamaze classes, but at one point, she politely, yet abruptly, asked him to shut up.  

Not even three months later, Astrid was pregnant again.

They were certain that the procreation of the twins had been a fluke, a miracle; something that would only happen once in their lifetime.  

But they’d been gravely mistaken.  

They’d just transported the whole family to the ranch style home Astrid had inherited from her grandmother.  Everyone had their own room, including another living area in the basement, and a vintage Landshark Airstream trailer in the back yard where Steve and Astrid slept when they needed alone time.  It was the communal living, and the constant support from Robin and Katie, that kept them from mental collapse when they found out there was another baby on the way.

“What is wrong with you?” Eddie chuckled at Steve when he gave the two of you the news one morning over coffee at your kitchen table. “Couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few weeks?”

“I told you,” Steve shrugged.  “I have a magic dick.”

At that, you and Eddie shared an affectionate eye roll.  All joking aside, Steve was ecstatic about the news, bouncing on the balls of his feet everywhere he went at the idea of having a fourth child.  Astrid, on the other hand, was trying not to have a panic attack as she breastfed two infants at once.  If it happened to be another set of twins, she said she’d have to give one to you and Eddie.

You were testing paint swatches on the wall when Eddie snuck up from behind on the hardwood floor and put his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.  He had on a pair of his “holiest” jeans that were so ripped and worn, they were about to be shorts, along with his Slayer shirt that now had wide, cut out arm holes, exposing his ribs.  

“Which one do you like more?” You asked, slipping your arms over his.

He hummed, kissing your earlobe.  “They all look yellow to me.”

“Close, but one is Summer Sunset, one is Lemon Cream, and one is—-”

“What about black?” He asked in all seriousness.  “Or gray?”

“Or we could just keep all of the wallpaper as it is,” you giggled at the tickle of his beard scruff on your neck.

The country rose wallpaper was lovely, but heavy pink floral themes in every room was a bit much for both of you.  “You’re right, I love Lemon Yogurt or whatever.”

“I figured as much,” You turned to search his face.  He’d been growing his bangs out, so they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  “How does tofu curry sound for tonight?”

Your lips met, and you could taste that familiar mix of wintermint and Camel Lights that you’d come to love.  He’d cut back to only a couple smokes a day, but he went through a pack of gum in an hour.  

“Mhhmm tofu,” he closed his eyes dreamily. “Is there meat in that?”

Just before the twins turned one, you and Eddie had your first big fight.  

Big enough that you threw some clothes in a bag and said you were going to stay with Katie and Robin right before you slammed the door so hard, a vase full of daisies he’d bought for you crashed to the ground and shattered.  

It was over something so stupid, really. The way he left hair in the sink after he shaved bugged the shit out of you, and when you rolled as far away as you could from him in bed, he took it personally.  You’d felt restless and out of your mind that week, and then you started your car to realize the gas tank was empty, even though he said he’d fill it up.  You promised Eddie you’d have some quality time with him one night, but then Steve needed you at the Hammer and…all of these things started to pile up until the dam burst.

You sat in your car with the engine on for a while, swallowing back hot gasps, unable to pull the trigger and drive away.  It wasn’t long before you felt his shadow, and a few soft knuckle taps on the window.

“Please don’t go,” he said.  

“I don’t want to go,” you shivered and finally broke out in a sob, tears streaming down your face.  “I love you so much.”

Next thing you knew, you were in his arms, and then you were back in the bed you shared, begging him to be so deep inside, until it made you see stars.  

—-----

“An inch to the left,” Robin coached you from the ground as you were up on a ladder at the Velvet Hammer, hanging a piece of artwork along the brick red wall opposite the bar while Mother Love Bone played from the jukebox.  “Ah, right there. Perfect.”

You’d brought a few paintings over weeks earlier, at Robin’s request, and they all sold almost immediately, so she begged you to bring in a few more.  Still an employee at the Hammer, Steve offered you something more of an assistant manager position, but you were honest with him and confessed you didn’t want the extra responsibility, but that you’d help as much as you could.  Plus, the tips you earned waitressing mostly surpassed what they could offer you as an assistant, and you were under the gun to get a collection of work together for the upcoming show in Marysville.

The same Marysville shows at the airplane hangar where you’d bumped into Eddie and Charlene that one night three years ago. The memory felt surreal to you, as if it were something that had happened in another lifetime.  

The bar didn’t open for another hour, and Steve was hunched over a cup of coffee, popping energy pills he’d bought at the gas station.  

“Get any sleep last night?” You asked, on your way to return the ladder to the storage room.  

Steve grumbled something unintelligible, and his head bounced, nodding himself awake as if he’d been drifting off right where he sat. 

“Mae has some serious pipes on her,”  Robin quipped, speaking of Steve and Astrid’s newest baby girl, Mae, who was barely 16 weeks old.  “The only one of us she seems to want to be around is Oliver.”

The twins were over 2 years old by then, and just as much of a handful as you’d imagine toddlers would be.  Now with another baby, the family was running on empty.  You and Eddie volunteered to babysit Rue and Gracie for a weekend after Mae was born, and even though you loved the girls dearly and cherished the time with them, you found yourselves counting down the minutes until their dad came to pick them up on the last day.  “I’m glad we decided not to have kids.  Steve’s brood is more than enough,” Eddie whispered to you at the window watching Steve drive off.  He even considered getting “snipped” around the time Steve had the procedure, just as a precautionary measure.

“Why are you here so early anyway?” Robin asked around a yawn, adjusting the clasp on her denim overalls.  “Go home and get some rest.  I’ll stay until Shana gets here at noon.”

Steve yawned too, stretching his arms above his head as he stood.  He wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a sage green pearl snap shirt that was buttoned wrong.  “Can’t. Interviewing for a new apprentice over at the shop.”

Construction on the tattoo parlor next door took longer than anticipated.  So long, that Eddie got frustrated enough to go ahead and do a bunch of the work himself.  They’d just passed inspection the week before and were anxious to get some bodies in there working.  They’d decided on the name Velvet Ink, and Wayne found some vintage barber chairs at auction for the reception area aesthetic Steve was looking for.

As of then, Wayne was fully in remission and getting his strength back. He’d even been well enough to take his 1948 Harley-Davidson Panhead out on a few Sunday cruises with the boys.  Rue, one of the twins, took to him like glue, and Eddie remarked that he’d never seen the old man smile as big as he did when she called him “gan-pa”. 

Taking the last big gulp of his coffee, Steve made his way out, letting in blinding beams of sunlight when he pushed open the front door of the Hammer. He paused for a moment to look at the padded leather stool that was there, the one he’d parked his butt on for many a night.  Even though he helped to keep the peace if necessary, most of the past two years had been spent behind the scenes.  A weird, secret part of him missed it; missed the simplicity of being a bouncer, versus being the owner of two businesses.  Before he knew it, reminiscing on his old life brought his thoughts back to Charlene.

He was sure that she kept tabs on him, and he hoped she never decided to drop in and wreak havoc on his life again, but he was grateful for the fresh start she’d given him.  He hoped that she was enjoying herself with Billy…or whoever the hell she was fucking those days.  

—-----

It was Eddie’s night to make dinner, and you spotted him fussing in the kitchen through the side window of the farmhouse when you drove up that night.  It looked like he touched something that was too hot and was snapping his hand in the air to cool it off.  

You saw his motorcycle parked in the red barn, and wondered if he was planning to do some repairs on it.  The Chevelle was no longer around, as he’d sold it to a collector up north so he could get a pickup that would be more useful to your new lives.  You’d begged him not to, as  you knew how hard he’d worked on it over the years with Wayne, but he couldn’t be swayed otherwise.  .

Turns out, your man was extremely stubborn.

“Hey there, Dungeon Master,” you greeted him, shutting the back door to take your coat off.  He’d been teaching you to play DnD now that he had a new head mechanic at the shop, giving him a bit more time to lean into his hobbies. Max and Lucas moved back to town, and Eddie was happy to teach Lucas how to operate the tow truck when he voiced that he needed a job.  

In a black Hanes tank and jeans, your man was barefoot with his hair tied back.  Looking down at the pot of sauce he was stirring, he smiled so big his dimples popped.  “You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

Calling him Dungeon Master was a new kink unlocked for you.

You set your bag on one of the kitchen chairs and wrapped your arms around him from behind to sink your teeth into his shoulder.  “I love finding out what a nerd you truly are.  It’s hot.”  

He lifted up a wooden spoon full of marinara, cupping his other hand underneath, and turned to blow on it before putting it to your lips.  

“Smells yummy,”  you said before taking a taste.  He watched  your mouth, but then eagerly found your eyes for the verdict.

“Mhmm baby it’s delicious.”

Satisfied, he went back to stirring. “Astrid gave me her recipe.  I’ve never made it from scratch before,” he took a lick off the spoon for himself. “I think I used too much garlic.”

Another facet of Edward Munson you’d never realized before was that he was a natural in the kitchen, and found a lot of joy in cooking.  One of the first things he made when you first moved in was chickpea patties for burgers, and whenever the two of you went into a bookstore and you found him browning the vegetarian cookbook section.  

If  you weren’t working at the Hammer, nights at home were very low key.  There was the occasional concert or dinner on the town, but mostly nothing sounded better than curling up on the couch with him, or on the porch swing with a cocktail.  Charlie was strictly an inside cat, but you found a stray living in the barn.   All black with green eyes, a recent visit to the vet let you know that she was pregnant, and a litter of kittens was on the way, one of which had already been claimed by Oliver.  So, you brought her inside and made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, until just yesterday when  you found her curled up for a nap in Eddie’s lap.

He named her Scully because of his love of The X-Files, and you wondered if he’d be able to give the rest of the kittens up for adoption with the way he fawned over his new companion.  He bought her a fancy collar with a bell, as well as catnip and special treats that she was forced to share with Charlie.

Later that night, sprawled on the couch with your head on his chest, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open during an episode of Saturday Night Live when the phone in the kitchen rang.  You almost jumped out of your skin, and both of the cats sprang from their perch on top of the couch.

“What the shit,” Eddie grumbled, gently sliding out from underneath you just as a second ring shattered the once peaceful evening.  

“Who would be calling this late?” You said groggily, pulling the blanket up to your chin to turn and watch Eddie disappear down the hall.  

“I don’t know, but this better not be Steve wanting to rant about one of his late night epiphanies.”

Phone calls at midnight were rarely ever a good thing.  You sat straight, waiting to hear Eddie pick up the receiver. Had someone been hurt? Were the girls okay? Had something gone wrong at the Velvet Hammer? Maybe it was Bones needing Eddie for something to do with the Kings, and if so, you didn’t want him to answer it.

Eddie jerked the white, cordless phone to his ear, frowning.  “Yeah? This is Eddie.”

You shifted to the edge of your seat, muting the TV so that you could hear him.

“How did you get this number?” He mumbled gruffly.

That made you get to your feet.

“...what makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

You took a few steps and froze.

You had a very bad feeling that you knew exactly who it was at the other end.  

Eddie locked eyes with you when you came to pause at the stove. 

“You have to be mistaken, there’s no way he was one of ours—-,” Eddie said to whoever it was, shaking his head.

You reached out and motioned for him to hand you the phone.

He swallowed, hesitating at first, but then you took it from him and put it to your ear.

“Charlene?” Your tone was patient. “What’s going on?”

—----

Earlier that evening at the Harrington residence, Astrid was breastfeeding Mae in the rocking chair while Katie helped the twins get dressed after their bath, and Robin washed dishes with Oliver.  The TV was on, but no one was paying any attention to it, and Mae nestled against her mother like she was finally ready for sleep.

God, Astrid was tired.

Exhausted to the marrow of her bones and beyond.

Absolutely in love with her daughters and in awe of the beautiful family they’d created, but wishing she could have a few hours away from it all, just the same.

The twins were being loud, giggling as their Auntie Katie ushered them across the hall to their bedroom, and Astrid held her breath, worried they’d wake the baby up.

She let Robin know she was putting Mae in her crib, and then went to take the first shower she’d had in a while, feeling her stretch marks and all the ways her body had changed after carrying three babies. She never doubted Steve’s attraction to her, but he tattooed gorgeous women every day, not to mention the ones who waited tables in fishnet stockings and danced at the Hammer.  She was sure a handful of those young beauties had a crush on their boss and would offer him comfort any time he wanted it.

She hated when her mind went there, when she could feel the walls of insecurity and depression closing in.  She wanted to be nothing but grateful for every waking moment, but sometimes she was way too tired to think clearly.  She needed to cry or scream or fuck… or something.

Between the kids, Steve’s schedule, and having zero energy at night, she couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had been intimate.  A few kisses and touches in passing was really all it had been.  Considering the insatiable hunger they’d had for each other over the years, it made her worry that he just wasn’t attracted to her anymore.  But also, she knew that was bullshit—-but the whispers kept nagging at her.  

On her way back down the hall to her bedroom, she could hear Oliver reading the girls a bedtime story and she paused to listen, emotions catching in her throat.  Rue and Gracie loved him so much, and he was such a wonderful big brother, slipping into the role like he was born for it. Born to be a nurturing, caring soul just like his father.  She often wondered if Ollie would grow up to be who Steve would’ve been, if he had been surrounded with love as a kid.  Before Wayne took over his care, he hadn’t known much comfort or safety.  

Steve came home smelling like a distillery, and when he tried to kiss her on his way in, she moved her head away.

“Where have you been?” She didn’t have to ask, it was obvious he’d tattooed late and stayed to have a few drinks. She missed the guy who would spend hours rubbing her belly and talking to the babies inside of it.  It was the closeness she missed, not the sex itself. 

Alarms went off in Steve when he caught the way she didn’t want to look at him, the way she shrugged away from his touch.  “Hey, baby, I’m sorry.  Jake paid extra to have his back piece finished tonight and so I—”

Robin and Katie had adjourned to the basement, and Astrid was folding laundry at the couch. “You just thought you’d booze it up with your buddies while I took care of our girls?”

He lowered his arms to hook his thumbs into his belt loops.  “I thought about calling but I didn’t want to wake the—”

“Your daughters are all asleep.  Gracie was asking for her daddy,” she pinned a towel to her check with her chin and folded the ends together.

Steve’s heart tightened, thinking of how he’d missed his baby girl asking about him.  Thinking of how he was already letting her down.  “I’m gonna sneak in and say goodnight,” he mumbled, heading that way.

“Please don’t,” Astrid snapped. “It took a long time to get them to calm down, but you’re rarely here at night so you wouldn’t know.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong.  He’d fucked up, but he wasn’t exactly sure how.  Astrid knew that he’d have some long nights, this was something they’d talked about.  There had to be something else going on.  

He sat down on the edge of the recliner, facing her, and laced his fingers together.  “Is there anything…you want to talk about?”

Astrid scoffed, keeping her eyes on the TV.  “Where do I even start?”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Just say it, Steve,” she bit, stacking folded towels on top of each other.  “Just say you’d rather get drunk with the dancers at the Velvet Hammer rather than come home and be with me.”

At that, he was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, even.  

“How could you…what? That’s crazy. Shit, you know other women don’t even exist for me, Astrid,” he kept trying to catch her gaze, but she’d avoid it.  “No one has ever meant more to me than you.  You're the love of my life.”

“I can tell you’re not attracted to me anymore, Steve. Just say it, I don’t float your boat.”

“Float my boat?” He almost chuckled at that, but immediately caught himself, realizing that it wasn’t a good time for humor.  

There were tears welling in her eyes and Astrid bit her cheek in an effort to keep them at bay; her shoulders were shaking.

“Hey, listen, baby, c’mere,” he stood and reached for her hand.  She let him have it, dropping the t-shirt she’d been holding.  “Tell me you love me? Please?”

“Have you fucked anyone else since we’ve been together?’ She stared at him that time, eyes wet.

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Never even crossed my mind.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her gaze.

“Wait,” Steve’s mind raced, realizing that it had probably been months since they’d had sex.  “Have you? Fucked another dude?”

That one pissed her off, and it showed in the look she shot him. “When the hell would I have time for that, Steve? I barely have time to pee.”

He let go of her hand.  “Oh, so, you’ve wanted to, with other people…you just don’t have time?”

“Steve, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

He pulled her over so that she was in his lap, and she only fought him a little because then she was crying into his neck, overcome with exhaustion.

“Tell me,” he said softly, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead.  “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do,” she sniffed, letting the tears roll hot down her cheeks, pulling her knees up so that she was snug in his lap. 

“Say it,” he was pushing it now, tipping her chin up to find her mouth with his.  

She mumbled her devotion as the tip of his tongue dragged along her bottom lip.

She clung to him as she cried it out for a minute, letting him hold her close and stoke her hair.

“Is she okay?” It was Oliver.

He’d snuck in from the other room and was watching the scene with a creased, worried brow.

“I’m fine, honey,” Astrid sat up, wiping her eyes.  “It’s just been a long day.”

Oliver stared at his dad, almost defiantly.  “I don’t like to see her sad.”

Steve saw his own tender perception mirrored back to him in his son's eyes.  “I don’t like it either, come over here,” he motioned for Ollie to get close enough so he could put his arm around his son.  “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I didn’t want to miss you again,” Oliver admitted, sending another pang into Steve’s heart.

He’d gone from working all the time to…working even more, and something had to change.  He hated being away from his family so often that he missed bedtime several days a week; they needed to hire more full-time help like Robin suggested, but Steve and Eddie were trying to pinch every penny.

After he talked to Oliver about his day, Steve realized he needed a goddamn smoke.  Since the twins were born, he’d tried several times to cut back, but decided to quit cold turkey two days ago, and it wasn’t working.  He needed to get some of those nicotine patches or something because being irritable with a throbbing head was no way to live in tandem with everything else on his plate.

Two hours later, after he’d tucked Ollie in and everyone else in the house was asleep, Steve made love to his wife. 

He was about to try for a second round when his beeper on the nightstand started buzzing.

The alert was from Eddie.

Steve frowned at the number and excused himself to use the phone while Astrid pulled her robe on to go and check on Mae.  

Come to find out, the past was indeed back to haunt him, yet again.

—--------

Hawkins was the last place Charlene ever expected to be on her birthday weekend.  She’d said goodbye to that place forever, or so she thought, as there was nothing for her there.  Her relationship with Billy lasted the better part of a year, but when she found out he’d been cheating on her with their neighbor, it didn’t even phase her.  Normally, she would’ve been furious and exacted some elaborate revenge on the two, but at the time, she only shrugged and told him good luck.  She was never in love with him, he’d been just another way to pass the time; a way to distract from her deep, soul-sucking loneliness. 

Just before the separation from John, she’d purchased a storage unit for sentimental items she didn’t want to look at, but also didn’t have the heart to throw away.  She’d considered letting someone from Storage Wars buy it just so they could be disappointed, but there were private letters and photos in there that she never wanted anyone to see, especially not strangers.  So, she was back to clean it out and burn whatever she no longer wanted to hold on to.  

She was in disguise, so to speak, with a new cropped brunette hairdo, and oversized sunglasses.  The divorce and the bankruptcy of one of John’s businesses made headlines in the paper for weeks, as there was clearly not much to talk about in Hawkins, and for the first time since marrying into money, she didn't want to be recognized.  

She promised she wouldn’t punish herself by driving along the street in front of the Velvet Hammer, but she did it anyway.  She picked up her white 1970 Jaguar XKE from the secure garage it’d been stored in, and parked across the street to watch you carry a huge painting in while Robin held the door for you.  The neon sign for Velvet Ink was clever, and she sat there for over an hour, until Steve finally stepped out of the main building.  He squinted up at the daylight, shaking his fist like he wanted to punch the sun, and went next door to shake hands with a woman who was tattooed neck to foot, before unlocking the door to the parlor.  

She had plenty of phone numbers for young men who would love to get paid to be her escort, but she was tired of paying people.  She wanted someone to want to be with her, and be protective of her, without the money or the status, and she was realizing she didn’t know how to act normal when it came to earning someone’s genuine affection.  

So, that night, she was alone at a swanky rooftop bar drinking a dirty martini and listening to someone playing a Christopher Cross instrumental on the piano.  

Eating the last olive, she was thinking she’d make her way to her hotel when she felt a body sink down for a seat just one stool over.  She smelled him first; a familiar mix of leather and nicotine, but this one had superior taste in cologne as she recognized a hint of cedar and honeysuckle from Dior’s Fahrenheit.  

He ordered a beer and a shot of Jameson and then, to her surprise, he leaned over and pointed at her empty glass.  “Can I buy you another?”

Her first instinct was to flat out ignore him or say, “no, I can buy my own drinks, thanks,” but then she turned to see who the voice belonged to, and her tongue got stuck on the roof of your mouth.  

Maybe ten years her junior, he wore his jet-black hair slicked back, while his full lips and hazel eyes reminded her of someone.  She could tell he was tall with broad shoulders, and a couple tattoos exposed where his shirt was pushed up to the elbows.  A few chunky metal rings similar to the ones Eddie always wore, and from the insignias on his leather vest, she could see that he was also a member of the Coffin Kings MC.  

Charlene notoriously had a thing for outlaws, especially pretty ones, and so she let him buy her that second drink, and then a third.  

He said his name was Nick, and she was relieved to find out he appeared to have no clue who she was.  She said her name was Rita, and after that third drink, she invited him back to her room to continue the party there.  

Inviting a stranger back to her suite was not how she’d expected the evening to go, but the need to feel the weight of him on top of her overrode any common sense that might’ve tried to dissuade her. He was sexy and he made her laugh, and those were the only qualifications she needed at that moment.

After a few hours of getting to know each other in the biblical sense, and enjoying the mini bar, Charlene excused herself to the bathroom.

“I think I need a shower,” she hummed, lifting an eyebrow.  “You want to join me?”

He was stretched out on the bed naked with his hands behind his head watching an episode rerun of ER.  

“You go ahead, babe,” he seemed to nestle further into the pillows after that term of endearment, shooting her a wink.  His Coffin Kings leather was neatly folded over the back of the nearby chair.  “I’m gonna make us a couple more drinks.”

She left the bathroom door open a crack, just in case he changed his mind, but then she got fully absorbed in how heavenly the steaming hot water felt.  She thought she heard him come into the bathroom at one point, so she peeled the curtain back a few inches, but only found her reflection in the mirror.  

By the time she turned the water off, the steam from the hot shower was as thick as soup, and she realized that at one point, he’d shut the door all the way for whatever reason.  Perhaps for her modesty? Him being such a gentleman felt almost too good to be true.  

“You could order some food from the late-night menu if you’re hungry,” she said from behind the closed door while brushing her hair out.  “Pie sounds good for some reason.”

Either he wasn’t responding, or he did, and she just couldn’t hear him over the audience laughter on the TV.  She rubbed in some expensive body butter and then checked herself in the mirror a few times while putting the fluffy, white hotel robe on.  

“But if you need to go home I’d understand, as long as I can have one more—-”

She opened the door as she spoke, but then stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was no longer sprawled on the bed, and all of his clothes were gone, even his kutte.

Nothing wrong with that, maybe he went to get ice or to take a phone call.

The suite was large, with a separate sitting room, and so she checked around for a bit before realizing he had, in fact, vanished.

Anxiety rose in her chest but she pushed it down, taking a seat on the edge of the bed to reach for her lipstick on the nightstand.

But the lipstick was in her purse and there was no purse to be found, just a few condom wrappers and tiny, empty bottles of booze.

She’d taken her purse into the bathroom with her, she was sure of it.

After a few sweeps of the place, mumbling to herself in disbelief and horror, Charlene realized that her purse, her money, and her car keys were all gone.

She’d been hustled by a member of the Coffin Kings, and the truth of it made her scream into the palms of her hands.  

She sprinted for the window to yank the curtains back.  It was the middle of the night, and they were on one of the highest floors, and she couldn’t see the Jaguar from there even with binoculars.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her robe or put shoes on as she bolted from the room.  She was pissed, sure, but there were sobs catching in her throat, and that old loneliness dropped like a lead weight, threatening to bring her to her knees.  

By the time she rushed breathless into the lobby, Nick and her car were long gone.  

—------

For whatever reason, Charlene asked Eddie specifically not to tell Steve; she didn’t want to face him under such lame circumstances.  But the two men made an agreement a while back that one would tell the other if they ever heard from her, just to keep miscommunication to a minimum when dealing with someone who had a track record for manipulation.  

“She thinks one of you put this Nick guy up to it,” you said, standing at the door watching Eddie get dressed.  “As payback or something.”

Eddie frowned, adjusting the strap on his watch.  “If I felt like I needed to get back at Charlene, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust someone else with the task.  Plus, I didn’t even know she was back in town.”

“Did Steve know?” 

The last person you ever wanted to feel bad for was the rich white woman who tried to ruin your life, but still, you didn’t like the idea of any woman getting hustled and used in that way.  

Okay, maybe Charlene deserved some payback, but you hated to think that someone from the Coffin Kings was out there making a habit of taking advantage of women in such a spineless way.

Eddie was rummaging through the top dresser drawer.  “We don’t even have a member named Nick, so that’s another whole fucking problem.”

“Another charter, maybe?” You followed him into the kitchen.

“Maybe,” he put his leather jacket on while Scully wound herself around his legs. He bent down to pet her and spoke to her in a baby voice before finishing his thought. “Or maybe it’s something worse.”

You didn’t have to ask to know that impersonating a member of the MC was a big problem. 

Under any other circumstances, Eddie would wait until the next day to deal with whatever happened to Charlene, but the chop shops worked fast, and if they didn’t hurry, they’d never get her car back.

Why did Eddie even care? He asked himself that on the way to meet Steve at the hotel, rumbling along in his midnight blue, square box Chevy.  She could’ve just called the cops and let them sort it out. But Eddie knew that, aside from Hopper, the police force was a joke, and there would be days of paperwork and questioning before anything attempted to get solved.  By then, whoever the guy was would be long gone, and the Jaguar on a cargo ship to its next owner.  

Steve was already in the parking lot, leaning against his bike with a smoke in his mouth when Eddie rolled up.

“How the hell did you get here so fast?” He asked, slamming the door of his truck.

“Left a message for Miser down at the chop shop,” Steve exhaled, ignoring his friend’s question.  “He said he’ll keep an eye out for the car.”

Eddie had already sucked down his ration of cigarettes for the day, so he shoved another piece of gum in his mouth as they made their way to her floor.

There was a crystal chandelier in the lobby and mirrored elevators that gave Eddie the creeps.  

“You think it’s some sort of trap?” Steve had his hands in his pockets, leaning in the corner while they traveled up with a Beach Boys instrumental played from a speaker in the ceiling.  “Like she’s trying to trick us or something?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Eddie muttered.  “I’m not gonna mention it to Bones and the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Still in her robe, Charlene would’ve touched up her makeup to look presentable, but her Estee Lauder compact, and mascara were both in the stolen purse.  Also, she was too upset to care. She’d called to cancel the credit cards in her wallet, but there was a bunch of cash that she’d surely never see again. She’d have to contact her bank in the morning, but until then, she was basically squatting in that expensive hotel room.

Eddie did not look happy to see her when she opened the door, but she’d expected as much, tucking her bob of hair behind her ears. 

What she hadn’t expected, and what made her breath catch, was that Steve rolled in right behind him, scowling.  He had what appeared to be baby spit up on the front of his Santa Cruz skate shirt and dark indents under his eyes.  

Steve didn’t acknowledge her, he just breezed into the room and started looking around like he was a seasoned detective at the scene of a murder.  

Charlene gave Eddie a look, whispering, “I asked you not to tell him?”

All Eddie could do was shrug, as he was still weary of her intentions, and for good reason. 

Steve couldn’t help it, ever since the birth of his daughters, every injustice done to a woman in the world was something that could potentially happen to his girls, and he wasn’t having it.  

“What did he look like?” Eddie asked the question just as Steve spun on his heel at the other side of the bed.  

Hands on hips, she gave the description as best she could, and it sounded like half the guys in the club.

“He said his name was Nick?” Steve picked up the remote to turn the TV up a notch.  Unsolved Mysteries was on and he was suddenly interested, forever distracted.  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

Charlene scoffed. “I had no reason to think he was lying? I didn’t ask to check his driver’s license.”

“Maybe you should from now on,” Steve kept his eyes on the screen, sitting down at the end of the bed.  “The way you go through men like a meat grinder.”

“Look who’s talking, Romeo,” she spit back.  

Charlene turned to complain to Eddie, but instead he held his hand up, palm out to silence her.  “Are you sure he was with the Coffin Kings?” 

Charlene tightened the sash on her robe. “Okay, you two can feel however you want about me, but you know I’m nothing if not observant.”

The two were silent in agreement.

“His leather vest looked just like the ones you have on now.  Black, tooled leather with the reaper holding a coffin on the back.  Embroidered insignias on the front as well.”

“Did it have a nickname or rank?” Eddie stuffed a third piece of wintermint gum in his mouth while Steve lit another smoke.  The smell of the nicotine made Eddie’s hand twitch and his muscles ache.

Charlene shook her head after a moment of contemplation.  “He didn’t have a name on his cut, but Hawkins was the charter, I’m positive.”

Both men shared a look before Steve got to his feet.  “So you had your car stolen, what’s the big deal? Don’t you have like a hundred of them?”

Charlene shot him a look, reminding herself not to be a bitch. “That car belonged to my dad.  It was special. He’s the only person in this world who ever gave a shit about me.” She went to the bedside table to grab a half empty travel size bottle of Jameson and drank the rest.  “That’s why I kept it in storage. I couldn't take it with me, and I didn’t want to sell it.”

Eddie scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to go home to crawl in bed with you and the cats. 

“How much is it worth?” Steve asked out of curiosity.

Charlene shrugged, leaning against the wall to cross her feet at the ankles. “Dunno what it would go for today.  Easily 300K.”

Eddie almost choked on his wad of gum thinking of what he could do with that much dough.  

Steve raised an eyebrow.  “You better hope this Nicky is stupid and greedy enough to sell it locally, or we might be shit out of luck.”

—-----

You felt Eddie slink in under the covers to spoon you early in the morning before dawn, but you were too tired to look at the clock or ask him how it went.  Charlie was curled up at your feet and Scully took her pregnant belly over to nestle behind Eddie’s knees and purr.  

He wasn’t in bed with you at quarter to 8 when you finally rose from sleep, and for a second, you thought maybe you’d only dreamed about him coming home, until you saw the note he’d left on the nightstand.  

Had to run again

Tell you everything later

Left the coffee on

Love you infinity, Eddie

The way he always signed his notes made you chuckle, as if anyone else would be leaving notes for you at the house.  You folded it up and tucked it into the shoebox in the closet where you stashed all of his notes to you.

After a half hour of letting yourself rejoin the living on a much-needed day off, you went up to the studio to stare at the two paintings you were working on, but your reverie was shattered when the phone rang.

Breathless, you answered to find that it was Robin.  The shrill wail of a screaming child sounded from somewhere in the background.  

“Is Steve there at your place?” She sounded rightfully flustered.

“No, um,” you looked around the kitchen as if maybe he was there, you just didn’t know it.  “Eddie was here but then he left again. They might be together?”

A thoughtful silence and then, “Steve never came home last night. We assumed he stayed at your place.”

You were shaking your head but then realized Steve could have slept in the living room and you wouldn’t have been the wiser.  You walked through the house to see if there was a blanket on the couch, but it was as tidy as you’d left it before bed.  

“Are you busy right now?” Robin continued, making the executive decision to worry about Steve’s whereabouts later.

That was a loaded question, and even though you had plenty to do, you knew that was Robin’s way of saying she needed help.  “Not…right this minute.”

“I hate to ask,” it was true, she really did hate to ask for help, but sometimes it was necessary.  “Could you come over here for an hour or so? Katie has teacher conferences, I have to go to the Hammer, and as you know, Steve is MIA…”

“Sure,” Mae let out another earth-cracking wail that made you fear for your life. “Be there in ten minutes.”

—------

Miser’s underground chop shop operated behind one of the oldest buildings in Hawkins; solid brick, using a mom-and-pop place to get an oil change as a front during the day, but at night, stolen cars were stripped for parts and/or sold on the black market.  The building was huge, and had once been a busy hotel and saloon, as it was near the train station.

Miser himself was short and muscular with a gray, handlebar mustache, a rodeo buckle from his old bareback days, and a cowboy hat.  He’d been a pillar of the community for decades, and one of the last few anyone would suspect of illegal activity.  

That morning, Eddie, Steve, Van, and Devlin rolled into the alley, passed the No Trespassing signs, and settled at the locked garage door. Miser’s Old Lady was one of the head Hells Belles named Jackal, and she came out of the back door with him.  A long ponytail of silver hair, she lit a smoke and gave the guys a tip of her chin.  

“That car you said to look out for? The white Jaguar?”

Eddie and Steve still had their sunglasses on, nodding once in unison his question. 

“The guy showed up an hour ago,” Jackal inclined her head, whispering. “He’s been here before. He’s with another crew that likes to scam older women and take their shit.”

Steve and Eddie exchanged a look with the other two members, palms itching to get their hands on him.

“I asked him about the Kings flash,” Jackal continued.  “He said he was from another charter, but he didn’t know who Bones was.”

Bones, President of the Coffin Kings Hawkins charter, was one of the first original 9 members of the MC when they first banded in the 60’s.  Every CK member from Indiana to California knew exactly who Bones was.

So, this guy Nick just made it to the top of their shit list.  

“This might get messy,” Eddie said to Miser.

“We got you,” Jackal confirmed, waving for them to follow her.  

At the far end of the building, a door opened, and a guy with slick black hair, wearing a Coffin Kings kutte stepped out.

“Shit, that’s him—” Miser hissed, reaching for the Ruger at his hip.

But it was too late, the guy saw them and bolted.

Steve cursed, letting out after him on foot alongside Jackal, while Eddie and the others pursued on their bikes.  

Around the next building, there was a car waiting for Nick—a plain white sedan—and even after Steve summoned his high school athlete days, he still couldn’t catch up.  Nick jumped in the passenger seat and the vehicle peeled out, throwing dust up into Steve’s face as his arms windmilled to a halt.   

“Fuck,” Steve took his sunglasses off and threw them to the gravel, nostrils flaring as he watched the vehicle flee.  

Miser sent a gunshot, aiming for the front tire, but missed as the car picked up speed.  

Eddie and the others continued on in hot pursuit, and Jackal motioned for Steve to get into her truck that was nearby: a lifted navy Bronco with monster tires.  Steve had to grip onto the side bar to heft himself up into it, and then she gunned it, skidding out of the parking lot.

The sedan led them on a wild chase over the railroad tracks, skirting the center of town to avoid the cops.  Eddie and Van made their way to the side of the vehicle and Van cracked the driver’s side window with the hilt of his knife, making them swerve.  The car dove into the nearby alfalfa field, going where they knew the motorcycles couldn’t follow.

But, Jackal’s Bronco was made for the mud.

“Hold on—” she warned Steve.

“I’m holding,” Steve said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed on the target in front of them, his fist tight on the grab handle above his head.  

The sedan almost got its back tire stuck in the ditch, but the Bronco bounced right through the muck like it was a paved road, tractor tread crawling along like a tank.  

While Steve and Jackal took a diagonal course through farmland, Eddie and the rest took the next side road, aiming to cut them off before they could hit the highway.

—-----

You were on your way to Robin’s when you caught sight of a white car being chased through a field by what looked like a monster truck from one of rallies at the coliseum.  

“What…the—-”

It was far enough away that you didn’t feel in danger, but you slowed down to see if you could understand what was happening.

But then three riders on motorcycles were headed in your direction at full tilt, so you pulled off to the side of the road to get out of their way, wondering if you knew any of them—-

“Eddie?” You squinted, wanting to be mistaken.

Indeed that was your boyfriend leading the pack.  

He saw you as they passed at lightning speed and picked up his hand in a wave.

You sat there for a while, watching the three of them disappear in your rearview mirror, clearly angling to beat whoever was driving their car through the crop rows.  

After a heavy sigh, you dropped your shoulders and kept on in the direction you were headed.

Three years ago, you would’ve freaked out and followed them.  But at that point in the relationship, such a scene was par for the course, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. 

—----

Up ahead was a sharp turn in the bend, and Devlin sped up to angle the sedan away from the street.  His approach clipped the bumper of the car, making it lose control, forcing it back into the ditch, but it also made his own bike go flying.  Thankfully he was thrown free before the hunk of metal landed on his leg, skidding across the gravel.

Jackal rode her tire up onto the back of the sedan, pinning it there as the two men inside fled.

Steve was on the ground so fast, he could barely find his feet.  His legs felt like that of a roadrunner in one of the cartoons, flying in circles.  

Eddie snagged the driver, throwing him into the dirt with a grunt, followed with a punch of his fist.  The driver was gangly, with a prison spider web tat on his elbow and dishwater blonde hair styled in a mullet.  

Nick climbed up onto the main road and bolted, until Jackal aimed and shot a bullet so close to his head, the heat grazed his ear.

That made him stutter to a halt, just in time for Steve to tackle him at the waist, putting him down hard on the pavement.  Van took Eddie’s place, putting his knee into the driver’s back, pinning him there while the rest went to deal with the Coffin Kings imposter.

No words were exchanged for a while, just Nick sputtering in pain while Eddie rolled him over to check his pockets.  

He found a wad of bills and waved it in Nick’s bloody face.

“C’mon man, that’s like 2 grand—-” Nick protested through a busted lip before Steve punched him again.

“Yeah, it’s real nice,” Eddie flashed a grin, standing to tuck the money in the top pocket of his leather.  “Take that thing off of him.”

Steve and Devlin got the leather vest off, making sure they hurt him in the process, and then Devlin put his boot on the guys belly to keep him there.

Eddie inspected the insignia’s, noticing there were no rank or name placards, and the material wasn’t even real leather.

Eddie gripped it in his fist.  “Where the fuck did you get this?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,” Nick wiggled, grimacing at the weight of Devlin’s foot.  “Just let me go, okay?”

Steve bent down to lap the guys face with the back of his hand.  “He asked you a question.”

Nick looked like he’d rather vomit than tell the truth, but then Jackal stepped up and pointed her gun at him.

“Okay okay!” He squirmed.  “M-my mom made it for me, alright? For my birthday a few weeks ago.”

None of them had been expecting that, but they all made eye contact and snickered in disbelief; Eddie’s grin nearly split his face open right before his expression turned dark again.

“Tell your mom to come see us sometime, we’ll put her to work,” he joked.  “But you? You’re fucking done, do you understand—?”

Steve pulled Nick to his feet by his shirt and got in his face, jaw tense.  “I should kill you for what  you did to her.”

Eddie gave a sideway look, not expecting Steve to still have so much heat under his protectiveness for that woman.  Maybe that’s part of what having daughters did to a man.  

“B-b-but you’re not going to, right?”  Nick blubbered. “We’re cool?”

“We’re far from cool,” Steve pulled him close to whisper in his ear.  “I’ll be coming for you.”

And then Steve shoved him so that he tripped over his feet backwards and fell again.  

“You better run, cowboy,” Jackal shot a bullet into the ground at his feet, and he let out a high-pitched scream before taking off down the road on foot.  

“I see either of you again, you’re dead. Understand?” Eddie shouted after both of them as Van let go of his death grip on the driver.

The two were too scared to look back; too busy scurrying away as fast along the corn field to care about how stupid they looked.  

“Hey, War Machine,” Van brushed blonde hair away from his beard stubble. “Was that your girl we passed back there?”

Eddie checked over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse, wondering where you’d been headed, exhaling a long breath. “Yeah, it was.”

—-----

You only saw Robin in passing once you arrived at the house and parked behind the Airstream.  Oliver was at school, so it would be the three young girls with you and Astrid. 

The twins were on the floor in the living room, coloring, and you couldn’t get over how much Gracie looked like Steve.  Since they were fraternal, Rue resembled her sibling, but was also very different.  She had Astrid’s wild hair and a face that didn’t quite resemble either of their parents; Astrid said she was the spitting image of their grandmother, Evelyn.  

Astrid came around the corner cradling Mae in her arms with her mane of black hair back in a clip, and her eyes were puffy. 

“Please take her,” she groaned, handing over Mae into your arms with a sigh of relief.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

Mae had a pacifier in her mouth, but you could tell she was smiling up at you, lids droopy.  You began that automatic movement of rocking her in your arms.  You’d never been around many babies in your life, but the soothing gesture seemed to be ingrained in your dna.  

Astrid flopped heavily into the kitchen chair with a groan. “Did Robin tell you Steve never came home last night?”

“She did,” you bent to kiss Mae’s soft forehead. “Eddie came home late and left early, so Steve might’ve been with him, and I just didn’t know it.”

“It’s not like Steve to not leave a note or let me know somehow,” she started picking at an invisible thread on her peach dress that buttoned down the front. “Do you think he did anything with Charlene?”

You were shocked at the question, but your friend looked like she hadn’t slept in days and perhaps wasn’t processing thoughts at peak capacity.  

“Oh god no, Astrid,” Mae squirmed, kicking her strong little legs a few times in her Big Bird onesie, and you sat down in the chair next to Astrid. “Steve would never, and I think you know that. He’d cut his own hand off before he did anything as stupid as cheat on you.”

“Maybe,” she swallowed hard like she was trying to push down a sob. “We just…can’t seem to connect like we used to, and I’m just…just…”

She covered her face with both hands and cursed into her palms.  

“Hey,” you leaned forward with a free arm to rub soothing circles on her back.  “I’ll stay out here with the girls if you want to take a nap or something?  Slam some beers in the bathroom, whatever.”

Astrid chuckled a bit at that, sliding her hands down her face and into her lap. “Maybe I do need some sleep.”

From where you sat, you could see the twins on the floor in the next room with papers and crayons scattered about.  Just then, you noticed that Rue was headed in your direction, curls bouncing around her face.  

There was a tiny frown on her face, like she’d been concentrating, and she handed each of you a piece of lined notebook paper that had been ripped in half.

Apparently, she’d made some drawings, but before you could say anything, she was off again, determined to get back to her work.

“Thank you Rue, I love you,” you called after her.

“One is from meeee!” Gracie shouted.

“I love you too, Gracie,” you laughed, staring fondly down at the mess of colorful scribbles.

“They want to be like their big brother so bad,” Astrid had tears in her eyes, but for a different reason this time; she was so proud of her little family, so grateful to be a mother.

When you held the paper up to the light, you noticed that there was some writing on the back of it, so you turned it over.

My hot wife —

Slept in trailer, didn’t want to wake the girls

Can’t wait to kiss you again

I love you

S.

“Um, I think you should see this—” you passed the note to Astrid, and enjoyed watching the relief spread across her face as she read it.  

—------

A few hours later, Steve rolled up to Munson’s Garage in the Jaguar, after giving it a test run around the hills to enjoy how smooth it took corners.  He found Charlene already waiting there on a bench in the shade, talking with Wayne who wore a pair of light blue coveralls.

Wayne got to his feet while Steve pulled the sportscar up to the closest parking spot.

“Took you long enough,” Uncle barked at him, crossing his arms.  “Cab dropped her off an hour ago.”

He’d left the top down, so his hair was a mess, and he pushed his sunglasses up, eyeing the two.

“No, it’s fine,” Charlene shrugged, looking relaxed.  “I had good company.”  She had on a teal, halter top pant suit with matching heels, and she stuck out like a sore thumb.   

Steve put one booted foot up on the bench seat next to her.  “Yeahm, so, that guy Nick, he wasn’t—”

“I know,” Charlene reluctantly held her hand out to take the keys he was offering. “Eddie told me. I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but probably not.”

“No woman deserves that,” Wayne said, giving Steve a pointed look. “I hope you boys took care of it.”

“We did,” Steve met his gaze, letting him know without words that the dude wouldn’t be hanging around Hawkins if he had a lick of sense.  

Wayne said a polite goodbye to Charlene before heading back to the shop. 

“You never mentioned how charming your uncle is,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“Stay away from Wayne,” Steve grumbled, sitting down across from her.

“I didn’t mean—” she got flustered and then straightened.  “He reminds me of my dad, that’s all I meant.  Nothing nefarious.”

“Never can tell with you,” he muttered, fumbling to rip the wrapper off a soft pack of Camels with his teeth. He told himself he wouldn’t buy another pack, but he lied.

There was silence while Steve lit his smoke, all but for the sound of faint rock music and an electric drill from one of the garages.

“So,” she chanced. “I hear you have a big family now.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” He scowled at her after a hearty inhale.  

Charlene lifted both palms out as a sign of surrender.  “Forget it, I was going to say I’m happy for you.”

Steve snorted.  “You expect me to believe that, after all the shit you pulled, that you actually give a shit about anyone?”

She’d expected that, and she knew she deserved it.  

“I give a shit about you,” she muttered.  “I would’ve done anything for you.”

The sincerity confused him but then he pushed his shoulders back.  “I’ve got everything I ever wanted, and I won’t let anyone fuck with that. ‘Specially not you.”

“Understood,” she said, rubbing her magenta lips together with a nod. 

“I want you to be happy, though,” he softened his tone.  “I cared about you once, and that means I always will, no matter how much I wish that weren’t true.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“That’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she scoffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“That sucks,” Steve exhaled through his nostrils. “You’ve got a good heart, Charlene.  It’s just too bad you don’t know how to use it.”

A car pulled into the compound and at first, Steve didn’t pay much attention until he saw over his shoulder that it was you.

With Astrid and the girls.  

—-----

Eddie turned the radio up in the garage when Come and Get It by Judas Priest came on, and then wiped his hands on a red rag as he made his way to the office.  Although the finances at the Hammer and the garage were handled separately, he’d hired one accountant he trusted to take care of it all, and she’d just left a stack of paperwork for him to sign. 

On the wall behind the desk was a framed photo of the two of you together, hugging in the front doorway of the farmhouse the first day you’d moved in.  The flashback made his mouth twitch in a smile, as he had so many fond memories of those first couple weeks, back when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and several leaks in the roof he had to control with various buckets.  It was just the two of you, making love and whispering about lifetimes of devotion.

He had a secret place in the metal file cabinet where he kept all of the notes you’d left in his lunch over the months, and he had this tugging need to look through them again just before he caught sight of your car coming through the open gate and into the compound.  Wayne was gone, but there on the picnic table sat Charlene and Steve, and before he could think too much about it, his feet were moving, wrenching the door open to make his way across the lot.

Steve jumped up when he saw you angling for a parking spot nearby.  Oh shit, Eddie realized you had Astrid and the girls with you, too.  The fact that they’d helped Charlene was no secret, but still, it made him feel uneasy with everyone about to converge in one spot. 

—------

“Please tell me that is not Charlene,” Astrid whispered, eyeing the profile of the woman sitting across from her husband.

“I’m afraid that is exactly who it is,” you muttered, suddenly feeling like maybe it wasn’t a great idea to bring the girls by to visit daddy at work. It had been a while, and you assumed she’d be gone by then.

But it was too late now.  You recognized the Jaguar parked nearby; it was the same one she brought in for Eddie to fix that first day you met.

All three girls were safely in car seats in the back, and when Astrid went to step out, Steve was right there, blocking her exit.

Funny enough, Eddie did the same, but on your side.  He was there so fast, you accidentally hit his leg with the door.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” he grinned, pulling you flush to him while tipping your chin up for a kiss.  

With lips still brushing together, you mumbled: “What the hell is she still doing here?”

And then through gritted teeth, Eddie responded: “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Steve went to grab for Astrid right away, hands at her hips, and she let him, but her attention was over his shoulder.  

“To what do I owe this pleasure, gorgeous?” He murmured, noticing that she’d put on some mascara and deep burgundy lipstick after not wearing makeup for months.  

Steve only shuffled back a few steps to allow her to shut the door, but then he continued to act as a barrier to keep her from going any further.  He bent down to knock on the back window, waving to the twins as Mae slept in the car seat between them.  Gracie shouted “daddy!” and held her hand out as if he could grab it through the glass. 

Steve glanced sideways at Eddie.  “So, should we all go get pizza or something? At that one place with the bouncy balls that the girls like? My treat.  If you head over there, we’ll meet you—-”

Eddie was close to telling his friend to shut the hell up, as it felt like his babbling was only making things worse. 

Astrid kissed his cheek.  “Please move out of my way, Steven.”

—----

Charlene stood up and took hold of the keys to head for the Jaguar.  She could tell by the looks you and Astrid were sharing that she’d managed to make things awkward, and more than anything, she felt embarrassed.  

But, she took a step away from the picnic bench just in time to see Steve’s twin daughters come bouncing out of the vehicle in matching Oshkosh overalls and her chest tightened—-oh god, one of them was the spitting image of Steve.

And why were the two tiny girls headed that way on their little wobbly legs as if they knew her?  

“Slow down, Rue!” Astrid called after them as Steve fumbled at getting the car seat out that had Mae inside.  

“She’s, um, she was just leaving,” Steve grunted, trying to move the apparatus out without waking the baby.  Astrid was already rushing to catch up with the girls, making each of them hold one of her hands.  

For some reason, Charlene was frozen.  Locking eyes with Gracie, knowing they were Steve’s hazel eyes, accumulated with the rest of her regrets like a punch to the gut.

Her deep dark secret was that she’d always wanted children of her own, but John refused.  

You and Eddie followed them over, albeit reluctantly.  If there were ever some serious conversation that needed to be had with Charlene, it certainly wouldn’t be done with the kids there, and so you weren’t at all sure what could possibly unfold.  

Although Charlene and Astrid had spent a very tense few moments together the night Craig was shot, they’d never shared more than a few words with each other.  Last night, when Steve got the page from Eddie, she’d known it was about Charlene before he even said a thing; she could feel her arriving in her bones like some might feel the impending threat of cold weather.  

Steve hurried to get between the two women and set the baby carrier on the picnic table.  Gracie was on her tiptoes with her arms up, begging him to put her on his shoulders, and so he did, and she took hold of his hair like a saddle horn.

“Glad we could meet under better circumstances,” Astrid said to Charlene, sincerely.

Eddie put his arm around your shoulder and you sank into him, wrapping both arms around his middle. You wished you could hide under his blue and black flannel so no one could see you.  

“You have a really beautiful family,” was all Charlene could think to say as she caught sight of Steve’s third daughter.

“Thank you,” Astrid replied, maintaining steady eye contact.

There were a few strained silences, and you could feel Eddie wanting to fill them, but suddenly he burst out with:

“Did you want to come by the Hammer and see what we’ve done with the place?” He chirped, rubbing your arm almost violently. 

Your whole body tensed at that, and you could see that it was the same physical response for Steve.  

“No, that’s…I’m good,” Charlene removed the Gucci sunglasses from the top of her head and put them over her eyes.  “There are several cargo crates of my things being sent to Hawaii right now, and I have a flight to catch.  But I’m sure you’ve done well with it.”

But it was Rue who broke the next silence.

She’d wandered a few yards over to the fence and back, carrying two bright yellow dandelions pinched between her fingers.

She was right there, blocking Charlene’s path to her car, arm outstretched to offer her one.

“For me?” Charlene was genuinely confused, and not accustomed to the wholesome kindness often displayed by children.  

Rue just nodded, tucking the other one behind her ear so that the bloom was at her cheek.

The rest of you exchanged a few baffled looks—all but Astrid, because she knew what was happening.  She knew then that her daughter carried the same gift she’d been born with; the gift of intuitive sight.  Even at her young age, Rue could read people and their intentions, and she knew that Charlene was no longer a threat to them.  She knew that everyone in that parking lot deserved healing and forgiveness. 

“Like this?” Charlene put the flower in her hair the same way with tentative fingers, and Rue nodded again, moving around the woman to walk back over to her family.

Astrid scooped Rue up into her arms.

Charlene took one last look over at the group as she drove out of the compound, seeing the way you all smiled at each other, continuing on with conversation as if she’d never been there. You were all visibly relieved to no longer be sharing space with her, but Rue had been able to see her with fresh eyes, without all of the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on others and on herself.  There’d been no judgment or weariness in that child’s eyes; just curiosity and love. It gave her a bit of hope that maybe she could…start over.  Maybe she’d fall in love again with a guy who wasn’t Steve, maybe she’d adopt a child of her own one day, or maybe…she’d get a dog and call it a day.  

—------

A few days later, you couldn’t find Scully, and the two of you fell into panic mode.

“Did you let her out?” Eddie snapped.  “You know we need to keep her inside this close to the due date.”

Eddie was a mess. Granted, you were upset too, but he was ready to tear the whole house apart looking for her, and then some.  You couldn’t help but smile to yourself seeing how devoted he was to this once stray cat.  Some nights he even made room between the two of you so that Scully could sleep in the middle.

But finally, a soft mewing from the closet alerted you to the fact that she’d tucked herself away in the dark to have her babies.  

“Honey, come look,” you whispered down the hall to him.

There she was, snuggled back in the corner in a box of old sweatshirts, nursing four tiny baby kittens.  She had one more a half hour later to make the final count five.  Two black, one gray, one black and white, and one orange striper.

“Daddy must’ve been an orange guy, hey my darling?” He hummed a conversation to Scully as you picked them all up to put down some fresh blankets, making sure she had food and water nearby.  

“What should we name them?” Eddie asked as you both sat in the doorway, watching them nuzzle together for sleep.

“I think we should let Oliver name the orange little girl, since I know that’s the one he’ll pick,” you whispered, to which Eddie agreed.  “Maybe I’ll name the gray one Keanu,” you said, mostly joking, but Eddie didn’t seem bothered.  As soon as it was possible, Scully would be back at the vet to get fixed, but you were grateful to have this experience with him.

“Can I name the black ones Dio and Vecna?”  He asked, hopefully.

“What kind of a name is Vecna?” You wrinkled your nose.  “Should we call him Vicky for short?”

“The black and white looks like a Leia,” he continued, eyes sparkling.  

“Leia is a good name,” you hummed, putting your cheek on his shoulder. 

You moved Scully and her box of babies into your bedroom so that she would be closer if she needed anything, but then in the middle of the night, she moved the kittens back to the same spot in the guest bedroom closet, so then that is where you let her stay.  

Later that night, you were in the kitchen cleaning up before bed, when you heard Eddie singing a song under his breath in the next room:

“Hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone…”

You thought you recognized it as you scrubbed a dish, eyes darting to the window to watch two motorcycles zoom by on the dark highway in the distance.

“I got a bad desire…”

On the refrigerator behind you, secured by magnets, were photo snapshots of the two of you with Steve and Astrid, Robin and Katie, Gracie, Rue and one of Mae when she was first born.  There was one of Wayne twenty years ago, standing with Taz and War Machine as two gangly teenagers.  There was a long strip from a photo booth at the fair with you, Eddie, and Oliver all making faces for the camera.  

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you

Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher…”

He’d been folding the blanket on the couch and blowing out candles, but then he was on his way to  you as the mumbled lyrics got clearer:

“Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

And cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull…”

You finished what you were doing, but then you stayed still, feeling him come up behind.  

“At night, I wake up with the sheets soaking wet

And a freight train running through the middle of my head…”

You leaned back, letting yourself be caged in his embrace; his head dipping to kiss your neck.  You thought about that day on the side of the road when he picked you up in the tow truck, and how it didn’t feel like you were meeting for the first time but more, coming back together after a lifetime apart.  

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear.  “Only you can cool my desire…”

After that first kiss years ago,  you knew there would never be another option for you; Eddie Munson was endgame.  Having tasted true love once in your life, you felt like you could die happy.

But not until you rode the highway of life for a long, long time.  Even at the end, you’d still be holding on tight.

“...Oh oh oh I’m on Fire…”

—------

The Epilogue of an Epilogue

“Yo, Steve. Package for you.”

It was Thumper, working the door at the Velvet Hammer for what promised to be a wild Friday night. Max ended up showing interest in the Assistant Manager position, after deciding that long haul trucking was taking a toll on her need to start a family, and Robin couldn’t hire her fast enough. Jeff also came on as a part-time bartender, leaving you pleasantly surprised and wondering what other skill sets he had up his sleeve.  

Steve had just come through the door to ask Shana for a cup of coffee when the crumpled brown piece of mail flew at his chest.  He caught it, but took the time to throw Thumper a dirty look.  

“Ease up, boss,” the burly biker grumbled through a huge grin.  “Since when do you have a penpal in Hawaii?”

He stopped in his tracks at that, afraid to look down.  Afraid to open it, even.  Steve’s newest ink—-Mae’s name on the back of his hand—-glistened from the recent layer of Aquaphor.

He asked for his coffee with a pound of sugar and sat at the end of the bar, frowning.

The return address was a P.O. box in Honolulu without a name, but he didn’t even have to wonder.  He was sure he could smell the Chanel through the packaging.

Inside was a ring of keys.

Car keys, clearly, but it took him a second to understand what they belonged to and why they looked so familiar in his hand.

There was also a note:

These are the keys to the Jaguar.  It’s parked in a secure garage at the airport, instructions also enclosed.

Every time I drive it, I get myself in trouble. Hopefully you will have better luck, or maybe Rue can have it when she gets older. 

The dandelion was a fair trade.  

C.

—----

I have so much to say, so much love to give to you all, and I hope you can feel it through the words. I'm so deeply grateful for each one of you and this experience. Whether you have left comments, reblogs, thoughtful asks, or edits, I remember you and you are special to me. I would give anything to meet up at the Velvet Hammer for cocktails (and/or tea, of course) but here are a few in particular I'd like to thank:

Huge thank you to @cryptidcurio for being the initial inspiration for this fic in the first place, and for always feeding me the best ideas. Some of the most popular scenes in this series are from her. Our biker Eddie and biker Steve talks seem to have somehow gotten us through the past hellish year, I love you. I'm so grateful for @texasblues and all of our chats about Steve, Astrid, Wayne, and the girls. Truly, the only reason Astrid and Steve are so perfect is because of Jennie and our brainstorming. We chat a lot about what Rue, Gracie, and Mae will be like when they are older, and hopefully we'll have a few blurbs about that someday. Also, I highly recommend her Steve & Astrid writings HERE My beautiful friend @dandelionnfluff decided to do a bind of I'm on Fire for their personal use and I am still choked up about how much work they put in and how gorgeous it is. You can see their amazing work here: book bind

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

[ddejavvu]

Congrats on 20k!! 'Finger lickin' good'--Can I get Steve Harrington, smitten and taking an equally smitten reader home from a party? Could it even get a little spicy 👀?

join my 20K celebration!

'it's finger lickin' good.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

baby i'm sorry i had a vision for this and then it veered completely off course! it's still the same general plotline but it's a lot more giggly than it is sexy and i'm sorry about that </3 i hope you still enjoy!

--

You nearly giggle yourselves off of the steps of the porch, landing hard on your feet so that your ankles ache for a second. Steve sways into you, his arm around your shoulders as he drops his empty cup on the lawn.

"Steve! Litterbug," You accuse, and he snorts like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"This is Andy's house," He explains, like that makes it okay to throw trash on the ground, "He deserves it."

"Is that your car?" You point at the first one you see, and he shakes his head.

"No, mine's red."

"That one?" You point at the next red one down the street, but he reacts the same.

"No, I'm in a beamer."

"Is that... that one?" You point across the street, at a brown car that's parked in a house's driveway. Steve isn't sure why you think it's his, it's not a BMW and it's not red, but it strikes his funny bone again, and he laughs higher-pitched than normal.

"No," He pinches your side, and you shriek, nearly collapsing into his hold. He catches you, and it's all the more funny now, meaning you're stumbling down the sidewalk trying not to tip into the street.

"I'm down there," He points behind you two, then seems to realize, "Wait- we're- we're going the wrong way."

You have to sit down to stop yourself from falling over with laughter. Everything is funnier after four full cups of jungle juice, and you clutch at Steve's ankle as you feel a tear escape your eye.

"Shut up!' He urges, swatting gently at your head, "Don't- don't laugh! You didn't know either."

"I want- I want you to carry me, Stevie~," You croon, giggling up at him with tear-lined eyes from how hard you've been struck by the situation, "Please? I might fall down."

"What-? I'm drunk," He grumbles, like you don't know it, "Okay, just don't- don't fall, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, letting him wrestle you into his grip. It's hard not being in complete control of all of your limbs, but you manage to get your uncoordinated arms wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

Steve starts back down the road towards his car, but evidently you'd strayed too far down the street for the neighbor's dog's liking, and he manages to slip through a gap in the fence to head for Steve.

At first, you think he might be territorial and angry. You yelp, tightening your grip around Steve and trying to hoist yourself up his torso. But Steve scrambles to balance the both of you while also darting away from the animal, and it means his hands land directly on your ass. You don't admonish him, because you really don't care, and the dog is still trotting your way.

Upon a second glance, he's relaxed, merely curious as to why there's so many people in the house next door. You decide you want to pet him, though, and you lean over Steve's shoulder to do so. It means that your ass is in his face, and the skirt you'd elected to wear is giving him quite the show.

"Puppy!" You coo, reaching eagerly for the dog that leans into your hands with several giddy wags of its tail. Steve's having the hardest time keeping the two of you steady while also being considerate enough not to ogle the thin strip of fabric just barely covering your butt beneath your skirt, and he's sure you can feel how flushed his cheeks are from how one presses into the left side of your ass.

"Steve," You laugh, as the dog licks the palm of your hand, "He's friendly! Pet him with me, please?"

"Honey, I can't," Steve grits his teeth as you lean further towards the animal, nearly pitching yourself off of his shoulder, "Can you- can you stand up?"

"No, I'm okay!" You report happily, like he was asking for your comfort's sake, "Keep going, Stevie! Let's see if we can lure him into the car."

"He's not yours, is he?" Steve muses, trekking down the street with more difficulty than he'd like to admit. A pair of guys pass the two of you, and he nearly drops you in trying to smooth your skirt down to a reasonable length so that they can't stare.

"He will be once we get him in the car, c'mon, puppy!" You kiss at the animal, speaking to Steve in your normal voice afterwards, "Finders keepers, Stevie. Oh, but you have to keep him at your house. My parents don't like dogs."

"Oh, really?" He's panting slightly as he sets you down with your back against the window of his car, and he finally gets a good look at the yellow lab you're lured away from his home. He looks happy to be there, eagerly accepting a pat on the head from Steve.

"Yeah. And- um, do you know how to get to my house? I forgot."

"No," He breathes, "You'll remember tomorrow. You said you'd come to mine, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" You brighten, "But I don't know the way to your house, either."

"I do," He laughs, scratching the dog behind the ears when it noses at his fingers. But he sends him off with a pat to the side, "'Kay, g'home, dog. Let's go, okay?"

"But- my puppy!" You watch aghast as the dog follows orders, tucking his head down towards the ground and trotting back home, "Steve, you're mean."

"It's not- no I'm not!" He urges, "That's not your dog!"

"I wanted him to be," You lament, "Can we stop by the animal shelter on the way home? I wanna get a dog."

"You said-" Steve can't quite remember what you said, actually, he just knows there's a reason why that won't work, "Uh- sure. Yeah, but they're- I think they're closed."

"Tomorrow?" You ask hopefully, and he nods, completely on board with whatever will make the slight pout to your lips disappear.

"Yeah, tomorrow," He unlocks his door, popping the lock on your own side up just after, "Just hop in, we'll do whatever you want, babe."

[v1neyy]

Ranchers with #12?

Apologies about the pause in posts, ive been on vacation and been whittling away at my event gifts!! Also apologies for this work, i wrote it in about thirty minutes while waiting for my flight, which i am about to get on. I’ll check for errors when we land!

Tango/Jimmy, #12: a kiss in the rain.

WC: 225 || original post!

—————

“Tango!”

Rain poured down from heavy clouds above the ranch. The storm had creeped in out of nowhere, giving no warning signs or time to prepare.

The blazeborne cowers under a tree. He flinches from raindrops that hit his skin, seeping into his bones.

He gives Jimmy a weak smile, “I… might be stuck?”

His eyes roll and he sighs affectionately, “Give me one second!”

Jimmy darts inside and searches for anything that could be used as an umbrella but comes up empty handed. His wings will have to suffice.

Golden feathers cover his head as he darts across the lawn to the tree Tango’s using as shelter.

When he reaches the man he checks all over for any wounds, “Are you okay? Did the rain get you too bad?” Jimmy spins Tango around, making sure to not miss anywhere a wound could be hiding.

Tango giggles, “I’m fine, Jim, really. Made it under here before it started downpouring,” He takes Jimmy’s cheeks in his hands.

“Stop worrying so much,” He tries to keep serious despite the pout that’s covering the avian’s face.

He presses a reassuring kiss to Jimmy’s lips, melting his frown into a smile. Arms wrap around the blaze’s waist and pull him closer. Feathers enclose the two in a world of their own, where nothing exists except them and the warmth they share.

When they finally pull apart they take a moment to look into the other’s eyes until Tango breaks the silence,

“We should probably get back inside now,”

“Tango!”

[systlin]

hi!! i know you probbaly get this question a lot because of how popular your post is lol, but i had a question regarding soil compaction. the soil in my yard is similar to how you described yours; extremely compacted, bends shovels. how did you go about dealing with it/restoring soil health? i know thats a super broad question but if you have any tips i'd love to hear them. thank you so much for your time :3

Mulch

Mulch

More mulch

I cannot overstate the 'mulch' part enough, really. Whatever works that you can get for cheap. Grass clippings, leaves, sign up for Chip Drop ( a service where tree trimming companies can dump wood chips on your yard for free for you to use as mulch)

Lay down a layer of damp newspaper or cardboard...amazon boxes with the tape stripped off work...and cover it with a real good thick layer of mulch.

Then you wait. Apply more mulch as it rots down. Won't hurt to throw down some blood and bone meal. A layer of compost between layers of mulch won't hurt a bit.

But aside from that, the biggest thing is time. You let the soil microbes and worms and things do their thing. They'll do the real work, so long as you feed them with all that lovely organic matter you just gave them to eat (the mulch) and maybe water a bit if it's dry now and then. Give it a year, and you'll be astounded.

After that, keep spreading mulch. It'll keep weeds down and retain moisture and keep feeding your soil.

For the part you leave lawn, don't bag your grass clippings. Leave them where they fall. Don't rake your leaves. Just run the mower over them when you mow. Don't mow your grass too short. (I realize some places have regulations about grass length, which is annoying, but don't mow your lawn super short.)

[daisies-daydreams]

i am so obsessed with your fanfics.. must.. request another one..

halloween is coming up, what about plus size reader x hobie decided to match costumes for halloween, they go on a date, pumpkin patch, haunted mazes and then they go back home and uh.. you know what i mean. (smut..) 😳

Sucker (Hobie Brown x F!Plus-Sized!Reader

Pairing: Hobie Brown x F!Plus-Sized!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: PDA, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Lost Child Situation, Swearing, Pet Names, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), P in V Sex (You know the drill), Vaginal Fingering, Hand holding during sex Word Count: 4k+ (sorry it's so long, it got away from me)

A/N: Hello again! Thank you very much for your sweet request, I had so much fun writing this one! (Kudos to those who get the video game reference at the beginning 😉). I hope you enjoy and Happy Halloween! 🦇 MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“Welcome to the Maze of Malevolence my fellow vampires!” the man at the gate bellowed as he outstretched his arms. You flashed him a small smile, your fake fangs glistening beneath the flickering light of the plastic torches.

“Evenin’ Stevie,” your boyfriend, Hobie, drawled. He was wearing a costume similar to yours, albeit adorned with a few more spikes. The man in front of you gave a polite bow as he motioned towards the maze.

“‘Tis twelve pounds sterling each of you wish to enter…” Stevie glanced around before turning back to the two of you. “Just pretend to hand me money,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear. You giggled as Hobie reached into his pocket and curled his hand. Stevie slipped his hand underneath and slid it into his pocket.

“Any chance you could let me know where the golden pumpkin is?” you whispered. You heard from a friend that if a person found the golden pumpkin, they’d get any prize of their choice. Stevie’s lips fell into a straight line as he crossed his arms and raised a brow.

“Alright,” you sighed as you held up your hands. The worker nodded before he dramatically stepped back and billowed his cape.

“Beware you poor unfortunate souls!” he called.

“We’ll take our chances,” Hobie gave Stevie a cheeky grin as he squeezed your hand. Your smile faltered as your boyfriend led you to the entrance. The maze was adorned with towering shrubs covered in red lights, stringy cobwebs, and various plastic bones. You gasped when you heard something scrape nearby, immediately clinging to Hobie’s arm.

“It’s just a leaf, love,” he chuckled. You opened your eyes to see a large oak leaf tumble across the lawn behind you. You laughed nervously.

“I-I knew that,” you coughed into your hand as you stepped back. Hobie raised a brow and hummed a “mhm”.

“C’mon love, let’s go get your pumpkin,” Hobie said. You glanced down the dark passageway, the sound of a few, guttural groans sending shivers down your spine.

“R-Right,” you replied as you clenched your fist in determination. The two of you walked side by side towards a giant gaping maw with red, glowing eyes. You screeched and ducked your head into his neck when a giant clown wielding a chainsaw suddenly popped out and screamed. Hobie stood as still as a statue, his other hand slotted in his pocket. The clown quickly retreated back into the shadows as soon as you peeked up.

“Y’okay?” your boyfriend asked as he rubbed your back. You frowned.

“Seriously, how do you not even flinch?!” you gaped.

“Just immune to it,” he shrugged nonchalantly. The rest of the maze consisted of you screaming and almost jumping into Hobie’s arms with each creature and peril you came across, from nurse zombies to rabid mummies. Your face lost some color by the time the two of you finally strolled out of the exit. You were trembling and clutching to Hobie’s arm as the two of you stopped near a picnic table.

“Well, we made it,” Hobie sniffed as he wore an unamused expression. You nodded with a blank stare.

“Y-Yeah,” you squeaked. Hobie grinned and pulled you to his side.

“We could’ve turned around,” he said as he rubbed up and down your arm. You violently shook your head as you dug around in your pocket.

“No way! I was dead set on finding this,” you replied as you tugged at your pocket. You beamed as you triumphantly held out the shiny object. You flushed when you saw Hobie smirk. “What?” you asked with furrowed brows. The tall man leaned down and pecked your forehead.

“You’re adorable, y’know that?” he murmured. Your eyes widened as you bit your lip.

“You mean it?” you asked as you clutched the pumpkin. Hobie nodded.

“‘Course I do,” he winked. Your throat tightened when he splayed a hand over your hip and leaned down. “When we get back to the cabin, I’ll show you exactly how much I mean it,” he husked before nibbling on the shell of your ear. You squeaked when he patted your bum.

“Let’s go get your prize now, yeah?” he hummed. You blinked as you strolled beside him, dismissing the spark of arousal that flitted through your core. You smiled as you strolled up to the booth, already scanning the shelves for your prize.

“You’ve got quite the eye, my dear,” an older man beamed. You grinned as you handed him the golden pumpkin. Hobie kept his hand wrapped around yours, his gaze soft and half-lidded as you scanned the shelves.

“Could I have the black cat plush please?” you eventually asked.

“Sure thing,” the man smiled with a twinkle in his eye. He turned and pulled the cute, dark plush from the middle shelf before handing it over to you. Your heart lit up as you clutched it to your chest.

“Thank you!” you said.

“You’re welcome. Have a lovely night you two!” the man waved. You waved back before turning around. Several kids rushed around the farm, their parents chasing after them with their prizes and goodies in their arms.

“Want to do anythin’ else before we head back?” Hobie asked. You bit the inside of your cheek as you glanced at the wooden signs in the middle of the opening.

“How about…a hayride through the pumpkin patch?” you asked. Hobie grunted.

“Sounds good. Maybe I could get some gold paint from the crafts booth so we could get another prize,” he murmured with a cheeky grin.

“Hobie!” you chastised. He chuckled.

“Just a thought,” your boyfriend winked. A gust of wind made your cape flutter as the two of you made your way over to the tractor. The sun dipped below the treeline as Hobie and you climbed onto the very end, the rest of the trailer packed with other passengers clad in their costumes. You and Hobie shared a warm glance, your fangs just poking out past your upper lips. The tractor started with a sudden lurch before slowly trudging along the dirt path. You sighed and rested your head on Hobie’s shoulder, your eyes admiring the warm colors around you.

The air had cooled significantly as the golden sunrays began to dissipate. You loved autumn in the countryside-it was always nice to get away from the cold, harsh personality of the city and be embraced with the natural beauty filled with crimson and ochre.

You looked over when Hobie placed his hand over your thigh and squeezed it gently.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmured. You hummed.

“Just thinking about how happy I am being here with you,” you confessed. Hobie hummed and rested his head on yours.

“Happy to be here with you, too,” Hobie said. You smiled as you squeezed your cat plush to your chest. You slipped away before gazing into his chocolate brown eyes.

“I love you, Hobie,” you said softly. His eyes widened a little as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Love you, too, sweet pea,” he murmured before pecking your lips. The tractor rumbled along the path as you closed your eyes, soaking in the warmth of your lover’s mouth against yours. You smiled and placed your hand over his as the two of you briefly parted before kissing again. You sighed as your boyfriend brushed some hair from your round face before smoothing his thumb over your cheek, his tongue brushing over the tip of yours.

“Mommy, why are they kissing so much?” a young toddler asked across from you. The mother hastily explained that the two of you were “married”. The thought made your heart skip a beat and your hand clench over his. You blushed and dipped your head into the crook of Hobie’s neck. Your boyfriend chuckled as he rubbed your back.

“Guess we got a little carried away,” he snickered. You slowly pulled your head back and straightened your posture. You chose to simply hold Hobie’s hand the rest of the time as you slowly made your way across the pumpkin patch. The light of the full moon made Hobie’s eyes glow and facial piercings shimmer. You pecked his cheek and rested your head on his shoulder again.

“My mum was asking about us again,” you said. Hobie grunted as he brushed his calloused thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah? What about us?” he asked, his puffy wicks brushing over your neck. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“About if she's getting a grandbaby soon,” you said. His breath audibly hitched as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. You giggled. “Or I could just be joshin' you,” you winked. Hobie's eyelids drooped as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"Mhm," he clicked his tongue. Before you could reply, the tractor came to a subtle stop. You beamed as Hobie took your hand and led you down the trailer. You brushed off several loose pieces of hay from your dark slacks and cape. You perked your head up when you heard someone sniffle nearby. Hobie turned his head over, a small boy in a lion costume curling his fists over his eyes as tears streamed down his red cheeks. Your boyfriend frowned as he looked back at you.

"I know," you said. He smiled softly as he walked over to the young boy with you. Hobie crouched down to meet his eye level.

“What’s goin’ on, big man?” he asked. The boy let his hands drop from his face as he pouted.

“I-I can’t find my mama,” the child hiccupped. You placed a hand over your chest. Hobie nodded along to the boy’s words.

“What was the last place you were with your mama?” he asked with a calm voice. The boy glanced around before his eyes settled near the haunted maze and pointed at the attraction. “The maze?” Hobie questioned. The boy nodded. You stood nearby and clutched your cat plushie.

“Right. What’s your name, big man?” your boyfriend asked.

“A-Andrew,” the child sniffed. Hobie gave a gentle smile as his eyes softened.

“It’ll be okay, Andrew. Why don’t we go talk to the nice lady behind the stand up front and see if she can help you?” he asked. Andrew gave a fearful look as he backed away.

“B-But you’re a stranger. Mama doesn’t want me to talk to strangers,” the young boy frowned. Hobie pursed his lips. You looked down at the feline in your arms before stepping forward. Andrew gazed at you before locking eyes with the stuffed animal.

“Hi, Andrew. My name’s (Y/N),” you smiled as you crouched down next to Hobie. Andrew wrung his hands together as he shyly looked at the squishy plush. You gave him a reassuring grin as you held out the cat. “My friend Benny here’s feeling a little lost. Do you think you could help me find someone who can help him find his way back to his papa?” you asked. Andrew's eyes lit up as he slowly nodded.

“Great! Now, where do you think we should go?” you asked. Andrew knitted his brows together as he spun around, his bright blue eyes scanning the fairgrounds before he pointed over to the front booth. “Over there?” you asked.

“Uh-huh,” Andrew said with a nod. You smiled as you slowly rose to your feet, Hobie following suit.

“Awesome,” you paused and brought “Benny” up to your ear. “What’s that? You’d feel better if Andrew held you on the way there?” you asked aloud. The boy's eyes lit up, the face paint that ran down his face now starting to dry. You gently held out the stuffed animal to the young boy. “Is that okay with you, Andrew?” you questioned. He simply snatched the cat from your arms and held it close to his tiny chest.

You and Hobie exchanged warm glances before guiding the child to the stand. You asked Andrew questions about his mother as the three of you approached the front booth. A blonde woman with similar eyes gasped when she laid eyes on the young boy.

“Andy!” she cried as she rushed forward and scooped her son into her arms. The attendant at the booth gave a sigh of relief as the mother and son embraced.

“Mama look!” he beamed as he held out the squishy cat. His mother had tears in her eyes as she sniffed.

“That’s great, sweetie. Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe,” the woman said as she refused to loosen her grip on her child. She glanced up after a few seconds, Andrew following her line of sight.

“These people helped me, Mama!” he said with a toothy grin. His mother took a few steps forward.

“Thank you both. I was about to burst into tears right before you came,” she said.

“It’s our pleasure, ma’am,” Hobie replied with a grin. She returned his smile as Andrew held out the cat. You held your hands up.

“You can keep him,” you said. Andrew frowned.

“Are you sure?” he asked shyly. You smiled and nodded.

“I’m sure-you see, Benny was only lost because he was looking for his new friend,” you explained. Andrew's eyes widened before he hugged the plushie close to his heart. The mother thanked you again before stepping away. You didn’t notice Hobie’s arm around you, his eyes soft and lips drawn in a gentle smile.

“You’re an incredible person, (Y/N),” he breathed. The tips of your ears burned as you smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, Hobie,” you flushed. Hobie kissed the corner of your mouth.

“I mean it-how’d a bloke like me end up with someone as wonderful as you?” he questioned. You frowned as you rested a hand over his.

“Hey, you’re amazing, too. You were the first one to reach out to the poor guy,” you said. Hobie’s eyes glistened as he tilted your head. You melted when he pressed his lips to yours, his arm pulling your body flush against his. You rested your hands on his chest as he held you close, his warm body rubbing against yours. Both of you parted and gasped for air. Hobie’s chest rose and fell before he leaned forward.

“Why don’t we head on back, yeah?” he husked into your ear.

•••

The two of you returned to the rented cabin a little while later. You sighed as you walked into the living room fresh from the shower, a fluffy robe wrapped around your body. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Hobie lying down on a pile of blankets and pillows, a towel slung loosely around his sharp hips. The fireplace behind him flickered with yellow and orange, illuminating his wiry frame as he gazed at you with half-lidded eyes.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make good on my promise from earlier,” he murmured as he spread his hand over the blanket beneath him. You bit your lip and squeezed your plush thighs together. Each step towards him sent shivers down your spine, your heart thrumming beneath your sternum as you stood above him.

You released a shaky breath as you untied your robe and let it roll off of your shoulders. Hobie licked his lips as he locked eyes on your exposed sex, a low sound of carnal desire rumbling through his chest. His hands came up to smooth over your waist as you crawled on top of him, your thighs and belly jiggling as you adjusted yourself above him.

“Please, Hobie,” you purred as you rested your plump breasts over his chest. Your eyes widened when you felt his erection suddenly slap against your wet sex, his towel splayed across the small nest. His tip glistened with thick drops of precum as his veiny cock twitched beneath your warm, trembling body.

“I got you,” he husked into your ear. You squeaked when he grabbed your love handles and squeezed them tenderly. A small gasp left your lips as he slowly guided you onto your back, the soft blankets below caressing your curvy body as you rested your head on a large pillow. Hobie parted his lips as he slid his hands to your breasts. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

Your heart fluttered as he kneaded your tits in his palms, his lips finding yours as if on instinct. You sighed into his mouth, bliss filling you from head to toe with each gentle squeeze of his hands and brush of his soft lips. You squealed as he took your nipples between his fingers and thumbs, rubbing them gently as he slid his tongue inside your wet mouth.

You curled your hands over his upper back as he massaged your smooth muscle with his own, his deft fingers teasing your hardening buds with every stroke. You gasped for air once he parted before he dove back in, his kisses growing more hungry and eager as his cock throbbed and leaked above your lower tummy.

“Been thinkin' about fuckin' your perfect pussy all day,” he whispered lowly before he began to kiss along your jaw. Your pussy pulsed as he gently pinched and twisted your nipples, his lips trailing down to rest over your thrumming pulse. You moaned as he wrapped his lips over your neck and suckled gingerly, his fingers teasing your buds all the while.

You rubbed over his sharp shoulder blades as he adorned your neck with hickeys, each one larger than the last. He pecked over your freshest blot before slowly trailing his kisses further down. You gasped when he replaced his fingers with his lips as he puckered them around your supple nipple.

“Ahh, Hobie,” you keened as you scrunch your fingers between his wicks. Your lover rolled his tongue over your areola, playing and flicking around your sensitive flesh with a low groan.

You panted as you felt him press his leg against your dripping sex, sparks flying through your core as you slowly rubbed your hips up and down. Hobie sighed as he nibbled on your bud before releasing it with a wet "pop". The fire nearby swelled just like the heat inside your core as your love started to kiss down your rolls and puffy tummy. Your eyes widened when he locked eyes with you as he dipped his head down, his lips pecking over your mound. Your thighs twitched as he soon lapped over your bundle of nerves, his fingers smoothing down your torso before spreading your legs apart.

“Mmm,” you whined as he swiped his tongue across your clit, his spit coating your puffy bud before he kissed tenderly. A high-pitched mewl escaped from your lips as he spread your ring of muscle open with one of his long fingers. You exhaled sharply as he curled his finger just inside your entrance before slowly pumping his digit inside your gummy walls.

“Sh-Shit Hobie,” you moaned as he flattened his tongue over your clit, your pussy softly squelching each time he thrusted his digit inside. He groaned against your folds as you gripped his hair, your cunt fluttering around his thick digit. You shuddered as he slid a second finger inside and spread your hole open a little wider.

“Look so pretty like this, soakin’ my face with your sweet juices,” Hobie’s lips danced above your sex before he pushed his face back down. You arched your back as he licked a bold stripe from where his fingers were stuffing your tight hole all the way up to your engorged, aching clit. He continued to paint long strokes up and down your slit as he plunged his fingers deep inside your warm cavern.

“H-Hobie, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasped as your walls tightened around his digits. Your eyes rolled back when you heard him audibly slurp, his lips curling over your pearl.

You cried out as you threw your head to the side, your hips rutting against his face as he eagerly drank your sweet nectar. Hobie kept the pads of his fingers pushed against your g-spot as he lapped up the juices that spilled past the tight seam of your entrance. You babbled his name as you floated down from your high, your head spinning and body tingling with bliss. Hobie licked his lips, the arousal on his chin glistening beneath the flickering flames nearby. You caught your breath as he rubbed his palm over the blanket of stretch marks on your plush, inner thigh.

“Think you’re up for more?” Hobie asked. You nodded violently, drawing a chuckle from your love. You bit your lip as Hobie hovered above you, his tall frame enveloping yours as he lined his cock to your entrance. Hobie smeared your slick over his mushroom-like tip before he slowly stretched your hole open. You keened and wrapped your ankles around the back of his thighs as you felt his blunt head deliciously spread you open.

Both of you moaned as he gently sank inside you, his dick gliding between your plush walls as you greedily sucked him in. Hobie puffed a breath of hot air against your neck as he sheathed his whole cock deep inside your aching cunt.

“Feel so good wrapped around my cock, baby,” he sucked in a sharp breath as your soft pussy flexed around his shaft. You tried to steady your breathing as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed your senses. Hobie kissed your neck as he slowly pulled his hips back. You mewled softly as you felt the steady push and pull of his cock, each drag sending ripples of ecstasy down your spine.

“My sweet girl,” he grunted as he gently wrapped his fingers around yours and squeezed. You squealed as he kissed you, the heady taste of your arousal falling across your tongue as he fucked you with slow, steady thrusts. Hobie briefly parted before he crashed his lips against yours once more. His moans were just as hungry as his kiss, his cock pulsing as he rocked a little faster.

Your thighs jiggled each time his hips met yours, his fingers squeezing your hands with such tenderness you could melt in his grasp.

“Yes,” you keened as the fat tip of his cock rubbed against your spongy, sensitive g-spot. Hobie kept his hips at the exact angle as he pounded against the spot that turned your legs to jelly. Your round asscheeks clapped as he rocked his hips a little faster, his lower torso brushing over your puffy clit.

“So good, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Hobie growled as he bared his teeth against your pulse. Your chest swelled at his praise as you moaned. Hobie nipped at one of your hickeys before he rolled his hips just the way you liked. “C’mon sweet girl-cum around this cock you love so much,” he groaned as he pistoned his cock against your cervix.

“H-Hobie!” you cried out his name with a breathy moan as your walls clamped down on his shaft. He hissed between gritted teeth as your pussy gripped his length, your walls pulsing incessantly as his breath stuttered. You squeeze your eyes shut as your legs shook around his waist, your body trembling with euphoria. Your eyes widened as Hobie continued to thrust inside you, his movements stuttering as he heaved.

“Love you so much, baby. Love-“ he choked as he shoved his dick against your cervix. You melted beneath him as you felt the long, heavy ropes of his cum paint your walls. Your nails dug into his upper back as he shallowly thrusted a few more times, your pussy squelching with your slick and his spend. Hobie eventually relaxed before he draped his naked form over yours. Your chests rose and fell together as you shared a soft kiss.

“Thank you, baby-you're so good t'me,” Hobie whispered. You smiled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re good to me too, Hobie. I-I love you,” you whispered with a shaky breath. His eyes lit up as he pecked your forehead.

“I love you, too, (Y/N),” he smiled. You sighed happily as he played with your hair, the fire crackling beside the two of you as you soon drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton is watching some TV shows about aliens when suddenly a random spaceship crashes in his backyard.

Undertale Sans - He comes out of the house eating pop corn, just watching as twenty aliens or so are making their way out of the spaceship. That's way more realistic than the TV. Finally good entertainment. He's taking pictures and then just... join the group of aliens and follow them around. They are so confused what he wants, but after a while they're just ignoring him, accepting some kind of weird skeleton adopted them or something. It gets even weirder when Sans befriends them and brings his 20 new alien friends to Toriel's space to have dinner and talk randomly about alien citizenship. Toriel scowls him and tells him he can't bring to her all the stray aliens he found outside. That's definitely happened before.

Undertale Papyrus - He rolls his nonexistant eyes and turns towards Sans windows. "YOUR STUPID PRANKS ARE GETTING OLD SANS! GET YOUR BUTT HERE AND CLEAN YOUR SCI-FI THINGY MESS THIS INSTANT!" Then Toriel calls him telling Sans is spending the evening with her. Uh. He gets even more angry. "ARE YOU PRANKING ME THROUGH TIME AGAIN SANS? STOP HIDING BEHIND GOAT MOTHER TO COVER YOUR MESS THIS INSTANT". He stays the fingers raised high in the sky, without an answer. URGH. He has to do EVERYTHING in this house! Sans is so confused when Papyrus waits for him behind the door and starts lecturing him about how his spaceship ruined his lawn.

Underswap Sans - OMG! He calls Alphys to see this and the two idiots they are gets so excited they repair it to make it functional again! Honey will have the surprise of his life when after two hours Blue calls him on his phone to tell him he will be late for dinner because he's stuck in space with Alphys. Honey doesn't even want to know.

Underswap Papyrus - The crash scared him so much he passed out. When he wakes up, he has his ankles and wrists tied, in his own kitchen, while aliens are emptying his fridge and analyzing random objects in his house. ... Yeah, he decides to pass out again to save himself.

Underfell Sans - Aliens or not they just ruined Edge's lawn and he's so pissed because Edge forced him to mow all afternoon and now Edge will get pissed and it's not even his fault! He's getting out of the house Karen mode to scream at the aliens to get their damn spaceship out of there or he's going to call the cops! The aliens are just blinking at him, confused what's even going on.

Underfell Papyrus - This is weird, and he doesn't like it. He's in front of his door, two bones in hands, growling like an enraged animal at whatever is coming out of the weird ship. None of these things is entering his home. He doesn't like it. The alien don't listen though, and they are way bigger than him. Desperate times, desperate measures. He opens the door to Doomfanger. His cat will destroy the hell out of them until they go back in their ship and leave in terror and confusion. Edge is going to serve her an entire salmon for dinner tonight.

Horrortale Sans - That spooked him bad, and he doesn't want to go see. But the cows are still outside and he's not letting aliens steal his cows. He runs outside on all four, picks the cows and runs back home with them. Willow is not pleased to find all the cows inside the house. He's not pleased either when Oak explains that's because of the aliens in the garden. Willow goes to see, and obviously, the aliens are gone. Oak is mad he doesn't believe him.

Horrortale Papyrus - The aliens can't walk two steps out of their ship before an angry Willow comes out of the house. "HOW DARE YOU CRASH IN MY CHICKEN PEN! LOOK AT THE MESS YOU DONE, ALL THE CHICKEN ARE OUT! YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO FIX EVERYTHING OR I'LL MAKE SURE THAT THING WON'T EVER FLY AGAIN!" The aliens laugh nervously at him. Willow picks the spaceship with one hand and smashes it in two on the floor. Don't mess with his farm or eat shit.

Swapfell Sans and Papyrus - Nox is screaming in terror, running around the house to block the door and the windows. Rus is on the couch, looking at him in disbelief. Nox assures him he won't let damn aliens lay eggs in his stomach! No alien is entering the house. Rus isn't sure how to tell him the back door is open and that's like the fifth time he's passed in front of three very confused aliens who are kinda scared of him. Hum. Maybe it's not important. His reaction is going to be priceless enough when he'll notice. He wonders if he has enough time to grab popcorn.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Urgh. He's so annoyed about this. It's way too late for an alien invasion. He opens the window, screams the alien better not make noise before tomorrow morning when he will come to kick their asses. He then closes the door again and goes to sleep. Surprisingly, the aliens obey????

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Hum. That looks scary. He's going back into his room and locks in his closet. That's a problem for his future self lol. Right now, he doesn't want to deal with that.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @psychokinetic-ectoplasm, @lulusplaycorner

AN: so let’s make a new idea. Let’s retcon Kate. And Roman’s poor decision. Enjoy. warnings: swearing, mention of scaring someone to death

Roman stood at the street and cocked his head at the boxes that littered the lawn. Cara and Mara ran from box to box, pulling things out and laying them on the lawn.

“you sure we need this much crap?” Roman called. I looked up from where I was putting up the plastic pumpkin.

“It’s not crap Roman.” I said, eyes glancing towards the kids. “And what your language.” Roman rolled his eyes, smirking at me.

“they’ve heard me say worse.” He said. “You too.” Roman winked at me as his smirk grew. “Besides…that’s what some of this is.” I rolled my eyes and walked over to him. I wrapped my arms around him as we looked over what I had already done.

“That’s what you think.” I shrugged, leaning further into Roman as he hugged me back. “We happen to think it’s perfect. Making our house into the perfect haunted mansion.”

“yeah. The scariest house in all of Shermer.” Roman chuckled. “Careful or you’ll give that mccallister kid a heart attack. All this spooky stuff.”

“Kevin won’t get scared by any of this.” I shook my head. “Ok well maybe he will. It’s possible. But that’s on him.” Roman laughed as he rubbed my back.

“need any help?” He asked. I thought about it for a second.

“Probably later. Unless you want to help me put out the pumpkins.” I said as I pulled away from him.

“I think the girls have that taken care of.” I turned to look and saw the yard covered in pumpkins.

“Oh.” I frowned. “Then how about the headstones?” I offered. Roman nodded and kissed me softly before going to dig through a box in search of the styrofoam pieces.

“how’s close to the house?” Roman asked as he carried them towards the front door. “Maybe they won’t break this year with the wind.” I nodded as I grabbed the skeleton pieces that went with the headstones.

“I’m hoping they stay in one piece this year.” I said as Roman scattered them around. I followed behind him and set up the various bones. Cara and Mara were inflating the pumpkin balloons and hanging them in the bushes. “You know what my favorite part of this is?” I asked Roman as he slid his hand around my waist. He stepped up behind me, pressing his hips flush against my butt.

“the view?” Roman asked, he cocked in the reflection from the front bay window. I reached back and smacked his leg. “Ow.” He intoned, smiling as the girls laughed behind us.

“Fucking perv.” I whispered as I straightened up. Roman slid his arms around my waist fully and pressed his face into my neck.

“language baby.” He laughed. I rolled my eyes before leaning back into him. Roman kissed my shoulder as he hummed quietly.

“Aside from that.” I whispered back before turning around. Roman shuffled behind me, not giving up his hold on me.

“what?” He asked, smiling as he looked up at Cara and Mara chasing each other with plastic ghosts. Cara screamed as Mara grabbed another one.

“Working on the house as a family.” I whispered to Roman, turning my head to look at him. He smiled softly at him. “Thank you for taking the time off to do this.” I cupped his cheek as his eyes scanned my face.

“anything for you three.” He whispered back, kissing me softly. Roman dipped me slowly, keeping a tight hold on me as he did. “Cara Mia.” I giggled against his lips before he pulled me back up.

“mon chere.” I breathed out. Roman gave me a goofy smile before kissing me again.

“ew!” Cara and Mara cried as they ran past, spider web material trialing behind them. Roman and I laughed as we watched them run around the yard. They tossed the material into the bushes and took off to grab more decorations.

“I love you.” Roman whispered. I smiled at him softly before kissing him again.

“I love you too.” I stroked his cheek and pecked his lips before turning to join the girls. “Now! Let’s scare these neighbors to death!” I cried as the girls cheered. Roman laughed as he trudged over to grab some more decorations.

[msmk11]

Too Far Gone, Don’t Send Help

Part 1

Sirius Black x gn!reader

Word count: 2.5k

CW: Cursing, mention of broken bones

Summary: Multi-part fic of reader pining after Sirius Black and remaining stuck in the friend zone

A/n: Hey everyone! This is a new little fic I decided to start writing because I needed an outlet for my own, unfortunate situation of unrequited pining. I guarantee you that most of my content for this fic will be loosely based on my own experiences. That being said, I have not and likely will not experience resolution to my own unrequited feelings so who knows how this fic will end! Would love feedback or suggestions as I write! Hope you enjoy the first chapter :)

It was safe to say that you were completely and totally fucked. Though you’re not sure if you were ever…. unfucked?

So here’s the deal. You have had a MASSIVE crush on Sirius Black for just about a year now, and you barely know him.

Pathetic, right?

What makes it worse is that Sirius knows. Or, well, at least, knew. After one of your silly little friends had let slip about your crush at a Gryffindor party, one the very same Sirius Black was attending, he had acted sort of weird around you for a few weeks.

In the hallways he’d send you winks, across the lawn he’d shout hellos, and in class he’d pass you notes. But that little bout of attention was merely temporary. Within the month, Sirius seemed to have forgotten you entirely, and you were back to not existing in his world.

So when you find out that Sirius Black has joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a beater, the same team for which you play as a chaser, your stomach is filled with dread. You guess it’s no surprise that he joined, now that his best friend James Potter is captain. Still, you were hoping Potter would have picked literally anyone else to fulfill the position.

Just your luck.

Though anxiety claws at your stomach before the first practice of the season, you decide to act as normal as possible. For all you know, Sirius has totally forgotten about your little crush from last year- the one you still have, actually- but he doesn’t need to know that.

As the team gathers on the pitch for practice, you notice the typical start-of-the-year tension and awkwardness radiating from newbie players. Black, of course, is the exception as he casually stands with the fanciest broom and jokes with James about Merlin knows what.

You curse yourself internally that your body can’t help but react to how bloody good Sirius looks in his training clothes. The loose muscle tee that hangs off his body shows his deliciously muscled arms that just so happen to be covered in ink. His long black hair is pulled back into a casual bun with small pieces that seem to unintentionally frame his handsome face perfectly. You admire the glint in his gray eyes as he laughs animatedly and you wish you were the cause.

Knowing that Sirius was going to be at practices now, you intentionally avoid getting to the quidditch pitch until the last possible second. Still, Potter is automatically on your ass.

“Oi, glad you finally decided to join us,” he says mockingly.

You scoff and roll your eyes, “okay, so, no. We’re not gonna be doing that actually, this whole ‘telling me what to do thing’. Especially not when I’ve been your equal for years, Potter. Maybe even better.”

He huffs out a laugh, “if you were better, why am I captain then?”

“Cause I told McGonagall no,” you answer with a smirk.

His jaw drops and you start laughing. “So we good, pretty boy?”

The brunette rolls his eyes playfully at you and holds his hands up in surrender, “fine, fine, whatever. Let’s start practice. Three laps around the pitch everyone.”

While everyone else groans, you simply tug off your t-shirt, leaving you in a black tank and black Nike shorts. You look over to Marlene who is retying her laces slowly.

“Come on Marls,” you tsk, “the longer you put it off the more you have to dread it. Let’s just go do it.”

The blonde looks up at you and whines, “ugh, fine. Remind me again why you keep letting me come back to play. I hate running.”

“Cause you love being a chaser with me?”

“Ehhhhh…”

“Cause it makes you look bloody hot for your darling girlfriend.”

“Ah, right,” she says, her face lighting up. “That’s it. Race ya?”

“You’re on, McKinnon.”

The two of us tear off down the field at a fast pace, zooming past many of the other team members who, smartly, are doing a light jog. As we pass Sirius and James, who are running side by side, you hear Potter call out, “that’s right, kick their ass, McKinnon.”

Too focused to snark back, you simply flip him off and keep running as he cackles.

For you, running is a long game. So while Marlene is certainly beating you right now, you know that, ultimately, she will lose. Though you’re still running fast, you’ve decided to save some of your energy for the end of the race. When Marlene starts to tire out, you’ll still have stamina and end up passing her.

True to your goal, two and a half laps later Marlene has begun to significantly slow down. As she huffs and sort of holds her side, you gain speed and pass her. A burst of adrenaline shoots through you as you reach the finish line and cheer.

“Ah ha! Yes! I won!”

Marlene merely groans through pants and collapses onto the grass. “Merlin, I’m out of shape. I think I’m dying.”

You drop to your knees dramatically, “no, Marls, please, don’t die on me. I can’t survive this without you.”

Your other teammates who have begun to join you as they finish their three laps chuckle at your dramatics.

“If you die, I must die with you.” You then imitate stabbing yourself in the heart and collapse to the ground.

As you play dead with your eyes closed, you notice a shift in light behind your eyelids. You open them and squint up. Of course, no one other than Sirius Black is hovering over you.

“My, James never told me we had quite the actor on our team.”

Your heart starts beating faster and you flush a little, realizing you totally just acted a fool in front of your crush. “Yeah, well, everyone has their secrets,” you say softly.

“Such a disgrace to hide your talent from the world,” he answers dramatically.

You smirk a little and roll your eyes at the raven-haired boy, “Yeah well….” You stand up and brush yourself off before placing your hands on your hips and give him an awkward smile.

“So, a beater, huh? I didn’t pin you as the type to play Quidditch.”

“I don’t really, besides for fun. But James needed another player, and I have a lot of anger so….”

You shrug your shoulders, “fair enough.”

James interrupts your conversation, thank god, by announcing that you all are now going to run drills. He decides he wants to catch the new players up so he has Fabian Prewett, the seasoned beater, work with Sirius, Marlene work with the new keeper, some 5th year brunette girl you can’t quite remember the name of, and you with the seeker, a 4th year boy with bright blonde hair and wide eyes named Jackson Creevey.

“Okay Creevey. So we’re gonna work on your maneuvering first. Instead of releasing a snitch, I’m going to pretend to be it. I’ll zoom all around and I wanna see how quickly you adapt to wild turns, dives, etc. James will be watching and is going to give you tips. You ready?”

The eager blonde boy nods and mounts his broom. You both raise high in the air and face each other. “Okay, I get a five second head start. After that, try to tag me.”

With that you zoom off towards the goals on the left as fast as you can, anticipating the boy following you. Surprisingly, Jackson is bloody fast, but also a little more unstable on his broom. You pause as he rushes towards you and then at the last second fly vertically upward and flip around in the other direction. He zooms past where you would have been and has to slow down before turning around to follow. You zigzag across the sky, looping around the stands into the clouds and beneath the rafters below. As he gains on you under the rafters, you dart upwards back onto the field. This time, though, he anticipates it, and remains close behind.

“Good,” James shouts, “keep anticipating their moves.”

As you feign to turn left, you actually turn right and slip out of his close grasp.

Reveling in your victory of outsmarting him, what you don’t see is the bludger heading your way. Just as you hear the yell of “look out,” the ball slams into your shoulder and sends you off balance. You cry out in pain as you hear a crack and wobble on your broom. Luckily you are able to keep enough control to land safely before rolling off. A string of curses leave your mouth as you clutch your arm and writhe in pain on the ground.

“Oh fuck!” James hops off his broom and runs over to you. He kneels down in the grass and looks at your face.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?”

With tears stinging in your eyes you shout, “obviously not! I think my arm is broken!”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath. “Okay, let’s take you to the hospital wing. I’m going to help you up, okay?”

You grit your teeth, “my legs aren’t broken I-“

“Just let me help you- please” He begs pleadingly.

“Fine, fine okay.”

Supporting your back and using your other arm, he carefully lifts you to your feet. “Sirius, you grab her broom and meet me in the hospital wing. Everyone else, practice is dismissed.”

You ignore everyone’s concerned faces as you walk towards the castle with James. As much as you hate to admit it, tears are streaming down your face from the pain.

“What the fuck happened?” You mumble.

“I’m not sure, I was watching you and Creevey. But I think Sirius hit a rogue bludger and it slammed into you.”

You want to be mad at Black and curse his name, but between your feelings for him and the fact that you know it’s not his fault, you instead huff and say, “well tell him that he should save his hits for the rival teams, yeah?”

The bespectacled boy beside you lets out a quiet laugh and nods. “I really am sorry by the way. I can’t help but feel it’s my fault you got injured. I mean, it’s my first practice of the season as captain and someone already got hurt.”

At this point we’ve arrived at the castle and James rushes ahead to open the doors for you. You give him a small, watery smile and walk inside. As he trails after you you say, “look, you have nothing to be sorry for James. It’s not your fault. Accidents happen in quidditch all the time. It’s part of the game, I know the risks. I should have just been more careful. And anyways, it’s not like I’ve died, yeah? Just some broken bones. Madame Pomfrey will have me good as new by the end of the weekend.”

He sighs and rubs his face tiredly, “I know, I know, you’re right. I just want to do well.”

I stop and look into his hazel eyes very seriously, “James, you’re going to do amazing as captain. Though I might be a better chaser than you,” I smirk, “I’ve never met anyone more dedicated and passionate. You’re not just a great quidditch player, you’re a great leader.”

He smiles softly, “thanks.”

“What are friends for?”

*****

Once you and Potter had finally arrived to the hospital wing, you were promptly rushed to a bed by Madame Pomfrey as she mumbled about how dangerous quidditch was under her breath. As she looked your arm over she confirmed what you thought- broken bones. Though with the flick of a wand your bones were mended, she still ordered you a night’s rest in the hospital wing so that she could keep an eye on you in case anything went wrong. The pill she gave you to help with the residual pain quickly put you off into a deep sleep.

When you awake it is clear a lot of time has passed. It’s now dark outside and the room is quiet besides the soft snores of someone beside you. You squint at the figure sleeping in the hard chair next to your bed and realize it to be…Sirius.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you inhale sharply through your nose. It seems this startles him as he jolts awake and gasps a little.

“Oh, hi, you’re awake,” He declares softly, looking at you.

“What…are you doing here?” You ask quietly.

“I just…wanted to check on you.”

Your heart quickens at his seeming concern. “Black, I’m fine, really. My arm is all good to go, I’m just staying overnight cause Pomfrey wants to keep an eye on me.”

He scratches his head awkwardly, “oh, right. Well….I also just, wanted to apologize. It’s entirely my fault that you’re here. If only I’d been more careful…”

You smile a little at his anxious stuttering and thank the gods that he can’t see the heat flushing to your face over his cuteness. “Black, honestly, you’re fine. Shit happens, it’s part of the game. And if you really wanna repay me, help win us some games hmmm?”

He lets out a huff and slumps backwards in his seat, now more relaxed. “Yeah, course. Gryffindor is gonna bring home the cup again this year.”

“Well duh, how could we lose?”

“If our star player has a broken arm?” He teases lightly. “Don’t tell James I said that. He’d be offended.”

You roll your eyes and smirk, “of course not, gotta protect his fragile ego.”

Sirius lets out a loud laugh and you beam, though quickly shush him.

“Be quiet! Pomfrey will kill you for keeping me from my ‘much needed rest’.”

“Nah she won’t. Poppy loveeees me.”

You quirk an eyebrow in disbelief, “yeah, uh-huh, sure. All those gray hairs that have popped up on her head since you’ve been here really prove that.”

“Uhm, actually, that’s called aging,” the boy corrects you dramatically. “I am an angel.”

You snort loudly and cover your giggles behind your hand. Though you hear Sirius scoff in offense, you can faintly make out the smile playing at his soft lips.

“Okay Black, whatever you say.”

He hums softly and silence falls over us for a few minutes. Your mind is racing, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Uh, you know you don’t have to stay. I’m fine, you know. You can go get some sleep.”

Okay, yes, send him away. Great idea, dumbass.

“No can do. It is my duty to stay here with you until you’re out of the hospital. I won’t feel right otherwise. You can go back to sleep though, I’ll just sit right here.”

“Nah that’s okay,” you say, “I’m not really tired after I just took the longest nap of my life.”

“Right, well, wanna play a game?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “what sort of game?”

“Twenty questions?”

“Alright, but I ask you questions first.”

[sacredcyber]

SilverV Angst drabble

“Clocks tickin, V.” She watches as Johnny appears on the balcony, the lack of blue static unnerves her. v slightly shifts her body, the after effects of the relic malfunction make her movements sluggish and syrupy. Johnny observes her staggered movement, her eyes are unfocused, glassy. He takes a few steps forward.

“V? Hey come on, look at me.”

He knows he can’t touch her, his hand simply phases through her cheek. V lets out a small hum as if to tell him ‘I’m still here’ she lifts her hand and places it on his. The fuzzy static tickles her palm. Johnny lets out a held breath, she’s done. V’s given all she has . She’d shot, killed and ran all over this damn city for months, now she can barely lift her head.

“Johnny…” she calls for him weakly.

He scoots closer, her messy pink hair covers her green eyes, he wishes he could move them out so he could look at her properly. “What do you want to do v?” She looks up, her head wobbling a bit, “what I want? Can’t have…”

Johnny sighs “you can, I’m trying to save your sorry ass you just gotta-“

“Want to-” her hand slips, Johnny tries in vain to catch it. V suddenly gasps for air, Johnny moves closer, his hands clipping through her wrists “let me in Come on v!! Let me take the drivers seat!” He begs. She begins to break out into a violent coughing fit, dark crimson blood stains her netrunner suit. She leans back, “Oh FUCK.” A lone pained cry erupts from her lips. Johnny stands and slowly circles her, he can’t bear it, watching her drift away in front of his eyes. A defeated sigh escapes him as he sits on the neighboring lawn chair beside her.

“What do you want for your life V?” He asks, she looks over, seemingly confused. Johnny shrugs, “Everyone wants to tell you how to live your life, me included, but what do you want?” V looks away, her gaze focused on the buildings ahead. “What I want?” Johnny nods, “come on, play by play. How do you want to see the next month of your life.” She sighs and focuses her eyes towards the sky. “I want to go to Mikoshi, with you by my side.” She stops and swallows a breath. “Alt…helps us get in, we-we’re in the basement floor…” she stops to catch her breath. “She leads us to the mainframe and…”

“She gives your body back, right?” He interjects.

V goes quiet, she carefully lowers her head to look straight ahead. “I wake up in Pacifica. It’s sunny, I can feel the warmth, smell the sea breeze comin’ in through the window. I’m at the Pistis Sophia.” She takes another deep breath. “Nibbles sleepin’ on my lap, and…you come around the corner with a coffee in hand.” She refuses to look at him, her eyes burn, trying not to betray herself with tears.

“…and then what?” He whispers.

Her glassy stare remains steadfast. “You’ve packed our bags…the Porsche is ready to go…” she swallows a hiccup. “And…you pull me off the couch. I can touch you. You’re so real Johnny, real flesh and bone and chrome.” She starts to quiver, hot tears slowly spill over. He watches as her tough facade cracks, exposing her soft wounded underbelly.

“We drive for hours…and hours and days…” a pained cry erupts as she tries to adjust herself. “until we can’t see this fucking place anymore!” She lets herself cry, the weight on her shoulders hasn’t been entirely lifted, but she feels lighter. Some time passes, the sound of a lighter flickers on.

“Y’know…I always saw us shackin’ up in that shitty little apartment on the Northside.” He takes a deep drag. V turns to face him, Johnny looks down. “After mikoshi, I’d drag your ass back there. Keep an eye on you and make sure you’re still breathing.” He flicks his artificial cigarette, ash disappears into the void. “Maybe after a day I’d grab the cat, and start packin’. Wouldn’t wanna stay here for long…I’d…want to skip the goodbyes. Probably not right but…” He trails off and shrugs. “Never been one to do things right.”

“Why northside?”

He shrugs “Makes me think if we were younger, first starting out together we’d probably live in a shithole like that.” He takes another drag. “Plus it’s small…Don’t like when I can’t see you.”

V hums in agreement. The sounds of night city fade into the background. The smell of exhaust no longer bothers her as it once did. If anything it just makes her wistful that she won’t be here much longer to take it in. Johnny extends his ganic hand across the small plastic table, an invitation. V reciprocates, placing hers on his. The pixel aberration ceases and she can feel something solid about his grasp. There’s warmth, combined with the feeling of licking a battery. Johnny's fingers intertwine with hers and he squeezes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

V blinks away tears and nods. “You saved me, would’ve been dead earlier if you weren’t there.” She sighs, “I…don’t feel alone anymore.” Johnny chuckles, “same here.”

The pair look out towards the cityscape. There’s a quiet understanding between them, something held dearly in V’s heart, a warmth, false hope? Does it matter at this point? All Johnny knows is that he can feel it too.