#nobody believes me when I say I’m thirty

[roseseafoam]

Since time is what we make of it anyway—I’ll have experienced three months of being 30 tomorrow. It’s really nothing different than any other year, really…

[supercutszns]

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 8

| in which you run into an old costumer |

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: just know that the only reason these updates take so long is because I keep writing plot based chapters and I really just wanna post fluff based chapters 😭

“Thank you for taking me out!” You grinned as you took a large sip of your hot chocolate, it was still definitely not cold enough for it yet but you didn’t care.

Something about hitting your third trimester had you wanting to nest like crazy, it had you going around the estate cleaning and getting guards to help move furniture around.

You really had no right to be doing it but nobody told you otherwise.

Jungkook had come back midday, surprisingly early, he had paused in the entry hall of his home locking eyes with the pregnant menace that had abruptly put herself at the forefront of his life once again.

It was then he realized you definitely needed to get out of the estate.

“If it keeps you from not moving all my stuff around,” He shrugged, leaning back in his seat, eyes flickering from his phone to you.

You frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what possessed me.” You sighed, “Well I do, they say third trimester can make you start nesting.”

“Nesting?”

You glared are the way he snorted as if not believing you, “It’s a fact, you can look it up.”

“The fuck is that even supposed to be? What are you, a bird?”

“It means you just get the innate urge to just…” you puffed your cheeks, ignoring that look he was giving you, “Clean and decorate and just…I don’t know I can’t describe it! Just wish I had my own place to do that with and prepare for the baby.”

Jungkook sighed, his eyes went from looking at you to dropping down to your stomach, it was round when you had first come to the estate, but it was evident six weeks had passed, “Then maybe it’s time we talk about a nursery.”

You paused, getting ready to take another drink from your cup but it never meets to your lips.

Jungkook sighed, “I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but finding your brother has quite literally lead me to dead ends I didn’t even think would exist. You’re almost thirty weeks pregnant, that’s less than three months.”

“Okay yeah I can do basic math, but it’s already been almost two months. Surely it won’t take another two months to find him,” You pressed your lips together nervously.

“Would it be so terrible if you gave birth in the estate? It’ll probably be a better experience than the hospital.” Jungkook commented, picking up his coffee as he took a sip.

It wasn’t that you were against giving birth in the estate, professional staff in the comforts of a bed? That was a luxury every woman could only dream of having, it was more the aftermath of it.

The idea of still living at the estate post pregnancy…it was a dangerous thought, it was too close to the life you had once wanted with Jungkook.

You just weren’t sure how to articulate that too him.

Jungkook finally raised a brow at you, noticing your lack of reply.

“I just…don’t want to get too comfortable at the estate.” You finally spoke carefully, “I don't think that's good for anybody involved.”

“I understand but I also don’t like being unprepared- in any aspect concerning me or my estate, and that includes you whether you want it or not.” Jungkook replied, “Just because a nursery is there doesn’t mean it’ll ever be used, it’ll just be there so first of all, you stop moving all my shit and you have a place to do your bird stuff-“

“Nesting.” You glared, lips quirking into a pout as your hands wrapped around your stomach.

Jungkook’s lips curved a little, “Bird stuff. And second, if it does turn out that your stay is extended, it’ll be ready.”

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea, if anything you felt like it would just feed into the delusion even further.

“Why hello there mama.” Another voice suddenly cut in, grabbing a chair from the empty table next to you both and plopping it on the side of your table.

Jungkook immediately straightened up, eyes glaring daggers that could definitely kill, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Yoongi!”

The man brushed his black hair from his eyes a quirky smirk on his face as he shrugged, “Uh I’m just stopping in to say hello to my favorite barista who got put on bed rest early.”

A smile twisted on your lips, you were familiar with his face, he had been a regular for almost two years, the realization however quickly hit that Jungkook was very acquainted with this man.

You felt flabbergasted for a moment, you couldn’t believe you never made the connection that the regular customer Yoongi was also Underboss business partner Yoongi.

“It’s nice to see you again Yoongi! I can't believe I didn’t recognize you as Jungkook’s partner…” You sheepishly smiled.

Jungkook clearly didn’t share the same sentiment, his nostrils flared and he looked ready to maul his partner.

“Nah probably for the best you didn’t realize. You as well, you look only a thousand times prettier, have that pregnancy glow about you.” Yoongi threw your a wink.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what made him more violent, the fact that you both were already well acquainted or Yoongi so casually flirting with you.

It was part of his personality but it still didn’t make any attention he or any other male gave you, any easier for Jungkook to witness.

“If you aren’t here for business, get the fuck away from our table.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, as if it took every fiber of his being to not right hook.

Yoongi didn’t seem phased, “Oh I was just in the area, been coming to Serendipity for a long while now, and then I suddenly see my favorite barista who’s been gone for two months, of course I have have to say hello.”

“Okay well you said hello, now go the fuck away.”

“Jungkook!” You said sternly, “Don’t be so stubborn, Yoongi can sit with us for a few minutes at least.”

His eyes were a raging fire as they burned into you, his chest puffing but he said no more as Yoongi observed you both, a smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“How are you enjoying the estate Y/n?”

You smiled tenderly, “The company makes it honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without Jungkook and Yeonjun.”

“Yeonjun?” Jungkook looked like he sucked on a sour lemon as he spat the name out.

“I still want my apartment back but I’ve made the most of the it. What about you? Why haven’t you come to visit if you knew where I was?” You asked, curious as to what the man had been up too.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, “Well…let’s just say I was asked to not drop by unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“And it isn’t.” Jungkook gritted.

“Okay well first of all this doesn’t count cause we’re not at the estate, second of all you’re not the only one who has relations to Y/n, I mean have you ever had this woman’s chai? Or her baked cinnamon rolls? Talented hands right there.” Yoongi stretched out in his seat, that playful nature about him.

“Oh don’t flatter me.” You shooed his praise.

“No you deserve all the praise in the world, in fact you deserve-“

“We’re going.” Jungkook stood up from his seat, sick of this if he had to hear one more word come out of his stupid partners mouth.

“Jungkook!” You complained, but nevertheless took his hand when he offered it, “Please visit Yoongi, you’re conversation is always welcomed.”

Yoongi only smiled, sunk into his seat as he watched the tall broody figure practically drag you away, it made him laugh in amusement.

Yoongi by no means kept an eye on you the last two years for his own benefit, but he supposed somethings would always remain thankless.

He had accomplished what he wanted though, evidently no matter how much Jungkook talked- and he talked a lot, it was clear he had grown possessive over you in the last few months.

Yoongi shook his head in amusement, watching the viper leave the parking lot through the window, he was happy to see that old spark in his partner return.

“What was that about!” You complained, immediately dialing the heat down to sixty in the car.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him,” Jungkook grumbled, hands gripping the steer wheel as if he was trying to strangle it, “If you care about your baby’s safety you’ll make an active effort to not talk to him.”

“Hes been one of my regulars for like two years,” you complained, “How was I supposed to know he was your partner? I never even officially met him! What makes him anymore dangerous then you? Hm?”

Jungkook deflated, obviously not having a good reason, “The difference is I’m protecting you.”

“Oh so you’re saying he wouldn’t?”

“The point,” Jungkook gritted his teeth in annoyance, “Is don’t talk to him.”

You frowned as you twisted to fully look at Jungkook, was he…jealous?

“Are you mad that I’m paying attention to someone else?” You asked upfront, you could only be discreet about so many things.

“I’m not mad”.

“No you’re definitely mad.” You replied pointedly.

“I’m annoyed that my business partner is talking to me outside of business.” Jungkook replied.

“But he was talking to me, not you.” You crossed your arms.

“He was doing that on purpose.” Jungkook huffed.

It was silent for a long moment as you folded your hands into your lap.

Of course you didn’t have to point it out, but truthfully it felt too ridiculous to not? “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

There was another pause.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” you replied, a pout on your lips, “You always do this when someone talks to me, men specifically.”

“Do you actually want an honest answer?” Jungkook looked even more annoyed, even so much as throwing you a frosty glance before his eyes returned to the road.

You blinked before a troubled frown slowly curved on your lips, you could think of several ways he’d be honest and none of them you’d be able to fully believe.

“What I want,” you took a breath, “Is to be able to have a conversation without you looking like you’re shooting daggers out of your eyes.”

“I wasn’t shooting daggers out of my eyes.”

You puffed your cheeks, “Well you claim you don’t do a lot of things, that you do in fact, do.”

“How about we just stop talking.” Jungkook replied.

You pouted but spoke no more as you yawned.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You nodded with a small groan, “Yeah, I need to take a nap,” you nodded with another yawn.

Jungkook only nodded in return, eyes occasionally glancing at you, attempting to sleep in the car, when did his life start revolving around you this much?

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Chapter 1) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood bestfriend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings : none Pairings : Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader Word Count : 1923 Poetry style | Story style A/n: here, my lovelies, is chapter one. Not proofread srry lolsies. Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

one; y/n. 

There was something about it, something in the early morning rays reflecting off the cherry-red paint that just wiped away all exhaustion previously held in your bones. You were wide awake as you stared at the cars being rolled off the truck and into the garage. It was only five am but the sun had already crept over the horizon well enough to illuminate the sight in front of you. Golds and reds, blacks and yellows all mixed into a work of art nobody else could recreate. This is what you were here for. This is what you were living for.

“Gorgeous, innit’?”

You turned to your left, face to face with two others donning the same uniform as you. The woman who had spoken seemed a bit older than you, but now way had she yet reached her thirties. A man was accompanying her, although his eyes rested not on you, but on the tyres now being rolled out of the truck. He seemed close to her age, his deep-tanned skin a high contrast to hers.

You smiled at her before looking down at your lanyard. It was still so hard to process being here, on a Thursday morning in Bahrain, waiting for the weekend that was about to ensue. You were one of them now. You were an insider, a person that got to see everything on a deeper level. People dreamed of getting here, people worked their whole lives in hopes of getting here and yet here you were, 23 years old and face-to-face with Carlos Sainz’s car. It looked so much better in-person.

“It really is.” You sighed, looking back up. The truck was empty now, they were beginning to close the back door. “I still can't believe I’m here.”

The blonde lady leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your badge. “Y/n y/ln? You're new, huh?”

You turned to meet her eyes, a large smile on your face. “Yes, I just graduated University.”

“What an amazing first job to have then.” She smiled back. The man beside her now looked at you as he adjusted the ballcap on his head. “I'm Bridgette, but everyone in the garage just calls me Bridge.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” You extended out a hand which she gratefully accepted.

“This is Lorenzo.” Bridgette nodded to the man who offered a toothless smile and his hand. “Enough standing around, we’ve got work to do. Walk with us.”

So you did. The garage wasn’t too far away, just around the corner, but Bridgette loved to talk; that you quickly found out. “Where are you from?” Was her first question.

“Bristol.”

“I hear it’s nice. They’ve got that beautiful river running through it, no?” She asked, looking straight ahead. You just nodded, unsure if she saw your response, but when she kept going you assumed she had. “I’m from Perth. Nothin’ quite like Australia, I must say.” “Isn’t Lando from Bristol?” Lorenzo added. His accent was thick as he spoke.

You nodded again, this time opting to expand on the question. “He is, yeah. We actually grew up together.”

Bridgette turned her head to look at you. “No way! Why didn’t your mate get you a job over at Mclaren?”

A blush coated your cheeks. You didn’t know where it came from, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, hell, maybe even sadness. Lando wouldn’t have put in a good word for you, not today. Perhaps seven years ago when the two of you were teenagers and on a completely different page, but not now.

“We don't talk like we used to. He was gone a lot but he moved away for good when he was seventeen. He never really looked back, either.” You sighed. An odd sense of pity hung over the three of you. In an attempt to lighten the mood you clapped your hands together and smiled at the two engineers next to you. “But he got me into cars and engineering! So, I owe him a thanks for that.”

Bridgette nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. “There ya’ go.”

The next few moments were rushed. The three of you entered the garage where people worked on putting everything into place. You were introduced to management and owners, mechanics and bosses. Tyres were being placed on racks, tarps were being placed over backup cars, tool boxes were being passed around. It was thrilling, even if you were just standing on the sidelines watching as it all happened. Soon, however, someone called your name. You were sure it was Bridgette or Lorenzo, but it was someone else. Alessandro, Charles' chief mechanic, was heading straight for you, clipboard in hand.

“Have you been assigned a team yet?”

“No, sir.”

He smiled. “Call me Alessandro. No need for formalities. But anyways,” He looked down at the clipboard then back up at you. “Our front jack guy broke his wrist and I need someone to replace him. Care to run some drills?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. “I would be honored.”

“Awesome.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Let's go get you a suit and helmet, then.”

x

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t get the spot.” Bridgette sipped her coffee. “You absolutely crushed it.”

You blushed, rolling your finger around the rim of your cup. The Ferrari motorhome was gorgeous with its meeting rooms and rooftop balcony, with its relaxation spots and cafe. It really put into perspective where you were and who you were working for.

“Thank you,” You said quietly.

The day had gone by rather quickly. The sun was already setting over the desert and exhaustion clung to your body just as tightly as the uniform you wore. You’d spent hours running drills, practicing the most simple yet vital job-jacking the car up. You did it over and over again, improving with every run. After that you were tasked with doing inventory. Sure, it was a small task, one that didn’t require you to get hands on with the car, but it was still important. You wandered the garage counting tyres, drills, wrenches, going through tool bags and drawers. It helped you get situated in the space, to learn the layout and whereabouts of everything. Once you had finished that, you were offered to help wash Charles’ back up car. You gladly obliged, happy to be finally touching the car at least. You washed the tyres, the halo, the rear wing and a bit of the body before standing back to revel in the beauty of the car. It seemed to shine, even in the dim garage lighting. You felt so fulfilled, so privileged, so at home.

“Alessandro likes to give everyone a shot, he doesn’t discriminate.” Bridgette continued. “Today might have been your lucky break.”

“I’d be happy even being a back-up jack, honestly. Just wearing the fire suit and helmet makes me feel all,” you paused looking for the right word to describe it. “Giddy.”

“Well,” Lorenzo began, setting his phone face down on the table. “He needs to pick tonight so we can have that person participate in tomorrow's practice. You should know if you got it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Guess I’ll be tossing and turning all night, then.” You joked.

A small laugh cluttered the table. It was getting late, the track becoming more and more empty with each passing moment. The motorhome was silent, save for the three of you lingering around. “We should go grab the last shuttle to the hotel,” Bridgette stood, taking one last swig from her cup before tossing it into a bin. “Are the two of you coming?”

Lorenzo stood up, as did you. “I left my bag in the lockers. I can wait for the next one if you both would like to go.”

“It’s ok,” he said. “We can wait for you at the front gate.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be quick.”

You jogged through the paddock, grateful that the heat had subsided. Lights poured out of each garage, illuminating pit lane in a way the sun hadn't. The sun, harsh and bright, brought a form of intimidation onto the pavement. The lights however, soft and orange, seemed to bring peace. It was a gentle reminder that at the end of the day, everything would be alright.

You dodged into the Ferrari garage, running to the back lockers to retrieve your backpack. Although your head was almost completely submerged in the metal box, you could hear faint-chatter? You leaned back, wondering if Bridgette and Lorenzo had come to find you. No, it didn’t sound like them. The voice sounded much more familiar. It was like listening to one of your favorite songs after a long while.

Lando paused at the entrance of the garage. His phone was pressed into his ear. He stared at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Did he know it was you? Could he see you? Did he even remember what you looked like?

You swung your bag over your shoulders and closed the locker. As you approached, Lando lifted his brows, erasing the confused look on his face. He surely could see you now.

“Hey, I gotta call you back.” He sighed. “Yeah, everything is good. See you tomorrow.”

A few feet separated you and him. You debated on starting conversation, on asking how he’s been. But you decide just to nod and walk past him. That is your plan until he stops you.

“Y/n?”

You pressed your lips together in a flat smile. “Hey, Lando.”

He looked you up and down. You were uncertain if he found your Ferrari uniform insulting or fitting. What if you were wearing papaya? What if you were sporting  orange instead of red? Would he be looking at you in the same way?

“So you really did make it, huh?” Lando crossed his arms over his chest, smirking as you avoided eye contact.

“I suppose so.”

“Have they assigned you a driver?”

You looked up for the first time since your conversation began. A bit of pride swelled in your chest as you said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah, Charles Leclerc.”

He blinked hard, shocked that you landed not only a job with the most infamous F1 team, but on their star drivers car. Maybe you were better than you let on. Maybe it was more luck. But deep down Lando knew how good you were. He was able to experience it first hand as a kid.

“Wow. Most people remain without a designated driver for their first year. They kinda’ just float around doing all the dirty work. At least, that's how it is at Mclaren.”

“Right.” You gripped your backpack straps like a kid. “Good thing I'm not over there, then.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you fell quiet, only the sound of nearby passing cars and people walking by filled the air. To any bypasser this surely looked sketchy. Lando Norris, Mclarens golden boy, and a new engineer for an opposing team, just staring at one another. How odd.

You broke the silence first saying, “Well I’ve gotta’ go. I have some friends waiting for me to catch the shuttle.”

Lando just nodded, staring at the ground as you walked by. As you passed Carlos’ garage, he called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

You could barely hear it with the way he spoke so quietly. But you stopped, turning your head and offering a real, genuine smile. “Yeah,” You breathed out.

He smiled back. “Good luck.”

[uceyliyahh]

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary; After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3248

Smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso X Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tagged 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @empressdede @jstarr86 @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @bebesobrielo @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @paigereeder @papireigns-05 @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @mselenalovebug @yana3sworld @xbriexx @partypoison00

14.

JEY I had dropped Tiana off at work while I was driving towards Trinity and Jon's house to hang out for a bit since I was off work for today. I've been thinking about what had happened yesterday between me and ol' boy. I wish I could've beaten his ass a little bit more than usual, but I didn't want to get out of pocket.

I pulled up in their driveway, turning off my car before going up to their door and knocking on it. I saw Trinity standing there holding Tank in her arms.

"Brotherrrr welcome where's T?" Trinity asked.

"I dropped her off for work. imma be picking her up later on. Is Bianca and Montez on their way?" I said while petting Tank as I've seen Marley coming up wanting some love too.

"Yeah, they should be coming in a few minutes but c'mon in the house before some bugs come in here." She said.

I walked inside the house seeing Jon sitting there on his phone scrolling through it I sat down next to him and pushed him while he did the same.

"Yo, watch out little bro where's Tiana?" Jimmy asked.

"Dang, what's with y'all asking about my girl? She's at work right now, but I'll be picking her up later," I said while scrolling through my social media.

I saw that Tiana had posted something on her story. She had posted one of her client's nails, and damn, she did a good job on them like. I'm so proud of her that she's back, getting to do what she loved the most.

I sent her a message saying how much I love it. Meanwhile, I heard the door knocking. I got up to see who it was; it was Bianca and Montez, who had brought some drinks.

I let them in dabbing up Montez while giving Bianca a friendly hug letting them in.

"What drinks did y'all bring?" I asked.

"We bought some Hennessy and some Casamigos Tequila. We are finna get turned up tonight also brought some chaser just in case," Bianca said as she put the drinks on the counter.

"What time does my bestie get off Josh?" She asked.

"She get off around six-thirty," I replied as she nodded her head.

The guys and I went out back to smoke a pre-roll blunt while talking about what happened the other day. I took a few puffs from the blunt, blowing it in the air while passing it on to Jon.

"I can't believe yo' ass knock him out Josh." Montez said while laughing.

"Aye, mane I gotta do what I gotta do in order to protect Tiana." I said shrugging my shoulders.

"Speaking of Tiana when are yall going to get married dawg yall is like the perfect couple for each other." He asked.

Yes, I would love to marry Tiana and have babies with her, but I don't want to rush into it, and I respect her wishes.

"Soon yall I don't want to rush into that." I said.

They both nodded their heads as we continued to smoke the rest of the blunt. I was on cloud nine I started to miss my girl but I knew that she was going to get off in a little bit so I'll be patient.

Jon lit up another blunt as he gave it to me to smoke, I took in a few more puffs before passing it down to him I know that Tiana would like this when she comes.

But Tiana is the perfect girl for me I don't see nobody else but her that's why I'm going to go all out for her.

She's my motivation and always keeps me going.

✧.* I was on my way to pick up Tiana from work as I was high as hell she'll probably notice by my demeanor and how I'm moving.

I pulled up at her nail shop seeing her outside on her phone waiting for me to pull up. As I pulled up in the parking lot I got out of the car as she seen me walk up towards her.

She had a smile on her face as she ran up towards me while standing on her tippy toes to give me a kiss on the lips while my hands were squeezing both of her ass cheeks.

"Hi, my pretty baby. How was work?" I asked.

"It was good bubba, also did y'all smoke without me?" She said.

"Don't worry, baby. Bianca saved a blunt just for you." She nodded as I opened the door for her to get inside and closed it.

Before we went back towards Trinity and Jon house Tiana wanted to change real quick so I just waited for her downstairs.

Scrolling through my social media, I saw that Kehlani was posted up with TIANA'S EX.?? Wow, that was weird asf to see on my timeline. I mean, they're made for each other; that probably means that Tiana can finally be at peace, I hope.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I saw Tiana wearing this cute outfit that just made me wanna say fuck it and stay here with her, but I knew that she wanted to go see Trin and them, so I kept my composure.

She looked at me as I held my hand out towards her as she held it with her tiny hands while we walked out going towards Trin and Jon's house.

We finally made it back to their house as I turned off the ignition in my car as me and Tiana got out of the car together. She knocked on the door as I came up behind her wrapping my arms around her waist while moving her hair to the side to place a soft kiss on her neck.

"Joshhhh." Tiana whined.

"What? It's not my fault you look good right now mama." I said.

She rolled her eyes at me letting me continue doing what I was doing. Jon opened the door and saw us standing there. Tiana hugged him before going inside the house.

"The girls are out back T they've been waiting on you." Jimmy said as Tiana walked away out back.

As she was walking away, I took a peek underneath her skirt, seeing her ass poking out while I licked my lips until Jon popped me upside my head.

"Ouch! The fuck was that for?" I said while rubbing my head.

"Can your ass not be freaky when we have a get together uce?" He said as I rolled my eyes at him, knowing that if it were Trinity, he would've done the same thing.

"Whatever dawg."

✧.* TIANA We were like six to seven shots in of the Hennessy my body felt really fuzzy on the inside as I was sitting on the couch watching everyone else taking more shots in.

I was high and drunk as fuck that's when Bianca came towards me showing me something that I wasn't expecting to see.  I saw that Kai was posted up with Jey's ex-girlfriend that was new but also weird at the same time.

"Woah girl that is weird as fuck." I said.

"That's what I'm saying it just seemed planned." She said and I agreed with her.

'I wonder if Jey has seen it?'

I saw Trinity turning on some music on the TV, and it was playing slow dance by Kehlani off of her new album. She grabbed Jon while Bianca grabbed Montez; meanwhile, Jey was looking at me to come grab him up, too.

Slow down, slow dance Control my hands I want to dance the night away with you, my love

All of us began dancing and grinding on our man's lap as they all just gazed up at us as we kept throwing it back onto them dirty wining our hips.

I turned my head back seeing Jey gazing up at me while watching me throw it back onto him I never done anything like this before other than with Kai but that was a different story.

His hands were on my hips to match my movements, and his eyes were low and dark. Everyone was saying their ouuus and ahhhs as I just rolled my eyes at them before giving them the middle finger.

Let's take a chance Could be romance Just let me dance the night away with you, my love

I felt Jey getting hard underneath me as I continued to slowly twerk on him. It was like he was about to bust but kept his cool, knowing he was around other folk.

He slapped my ass making me jump a little bit getting on top of him as I held onto his neck for support while he held onto my back I slowly grind on his lap maintaining eye contact with him.

Pulling me closer to him he softly kissed me on my cheek before whispering. "You finna make me take you upstairs and fuck you up if this keeps going." Him saying that to me sent shivers down my spine, but I wanted to keep going.

I looked over at the girls as they continued dancing on their man, knowing that we all were about to get fucked up, including me, if I let this continue, but I didn't care.

His hands snaked around my ass, giving it a good grip before grabbing me by the throat firmly.

"quit playin' with me, Tink, like I won't fuck this pussy up and have you crying."

Tonight, oh, baby You can get my love tonight, oh, baby Give you what I feel inside, oh, baby Wanna slow dance tonight (Oh, baby)

I wanted to stop, but my body just wouldn't let me. It was like it had a mind of its own. That's when Jey scooped me up by my thighs, carrying me upstairs towards the guest bedroom, pinning me on the bed.

He took off his shirt and his cargo pants that he was wearing as he did the same thing for me. Pulling me on the edge of the bed is where he liked me to be.

SMUT WARNING "Ouuuu fuck Josh..." I moaned.

He had my legs pinned down onto my sides as he was drilling my shit in while throwing his head back in pleasure.

I want you open like a flower in the sun And Heaven knows what I like and, baby, you're the one Didn't you say you wanna let me cross the line? You're the one I wanna be with tonight, oh, baby

He kept circling his hips hitting my spot so good I was seeing stars at this point. My walls were clenching around his dick as a groan escaped his lips.

"Shit, baby, you gotta let me stretch you out, ma." I loosened up a bit for him as he went in deep hitting my spot as I rolled my eyes in the back of head.

All you could hear was moans and skins slapping up against each other in the room. He chokes me firmly while moving his hips faster into my wet cunt, causing me to moan loudly.

Slow down, slow dance Control my hands I want to dance the night away with you, my love Let's takе a chance Could be romance Just lеt me dance the night away with you, my love

"I'm hitting that shit, ain't I, mama? Watching yo' pretty ass take it just like how daddy wants you to." He rasped while pounding me senselessly.

I felt so overwhelmed I tried to push him away by his stomach, but he just wouldn't let up as he slapped my hands away, only making it worse.

"D-daddy...shit..." This man was having me in a daze while he kept hitting that spot over and over again, causing me to feel that same pit going down into my stomach.

I always let him take control of the situation and let him do whatever he wanted. Hearing him talk dirty things and talking me through it just made me even more smitten with him.

I felt tears coming down my face as he leaned in, giving me a soft kiss on the lips to forget about the overwhelming pain that I was feeling. It was that good type of pain.

Tonight, oh, baby You can get my love tonight, oh, baby Give you what I feel inside, oh, baby Wanna slow dance tonight (Oh, baby)

He noticed that my facial expression was turning up as he knew that I was going coat his dick up with my nut, causing him to purposely push his dick deeper inside of my gushy insides as I let out a loud gasp seeing him smirking.

I felt my toes curling up while I was quivering underneath him after he did that.

"Mhm, give me that shit, mama, coat my dick up with yo' cream." He whispered in my ear while continuing to beat it up.

"Joshhhh..." I whined weakly feeling defeated by this man every single time.

He wanted me to feel every single inch of him so deeply. I let out a loud moan as I creamed all over this man while my body was shaking underneath him as I tried to push him away yet again due to the sensitivity.

But he firmly choked me, not trying to hurt me, as he thrust his hips deeper inside me while his movements became slower and sloppier throughout every thrust he was giving me.

My favorite part of the day is when we wake and you say you wanna make love All the sexy little ways you put my hands in the places you never let another go I got the sights on you, baby Girl, you wetter than the lakes, rivers, oceans Can we put on a little K?

Holding onto his biceps for dear life while trying to maintain the overwhelming orgasm I just had as he kept thrusting his hips.

"This my pussy baby?" He questioned me as I didn't respond to him quickly giving me a slight tap on my thigh.

"Yes...dadddy this is your pussy..." he liked the way that I sounded right now and the way I was looking all miserable underneath him.

"Better be my pussy mama, fuck...I'm finna nut all in that shit." After a few more thrusts, he filled me up with his warm seed as a satisfied groan left his lips before pulling out of me, seeing his nut dripping out of me.

Move them SKIMS up out the way Put that ass up on me, babe It's the perfect location The angle is amazing I see it on your face, girl Try to get air And you know I love cake So I came for a plate I ain't comin' home late Tryna fuck my soulmate tonight

SMUT OVER Me and Jey were panting heavily as he went to go get a rag to clean me up and my body was shaking violently. He took notice as he hovered over me giving me a few kisses on the lips while rubbing my thighs to calm me down.

Jey wiped me down with the rag that he had in his hand before throwing it in the dirty bin that was in the bathroom.

Slow down, slow dance ('Cause you're my baby) Control my hands (And you're losin' control tonight) I want to dance the night away with you, my love Let's take a chance (Can we take a little chance tonight?)

He sat up on the bed placing me into his lap while holding onto my hips as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You okay mama?" He asked.

"Y-yeah I'm fine...just still shaking a bit." I said as I felt him rubbing both ends of my hips.

"Not goin' lie you looked sexy dancing on me like that I wasn't expecting all three of yall to do that to us." I chuckled at him before kissing him on the lips.

Could be romance (Baby, you could have whatever you like) Just let me (Just let me) dance the night away with you, my love

"I did have a question though bubba." I was playing with his mullet while he was tuning into my features.

"What's up?" Jey said.

"Did you see that on your timeline too? With Kehlani and Kai?" I asked him while he nodded his head.

"Yeah, I did, but I just scrolled up afterward. All I'm worried about are you, mama." I smiled at him knowing that he is all about me and only me.

Tonight, oh, baby You can get my love tonight, oh, baby (Oh) Give you what I feel inside, oh, baby Wanna slow dance tonight (Oh, baby)

His phone and I went off at the same time, and we both grabbed our phones and saw a text message from an unknown number.

Me and I looked up at each other with a smug look on our faces, knowing.

Unknown number sent an attachment and a message.

Unknown number: Tink I know you're hurting rn seeing me posted up with someone new. 😭

I rolled my eyes as I saw Jey doing the same thing. They're trying so hard to make us jealous and hurt when we are living our best lives together. It was just embarrassing seeing that.

Tiana: Nigga don't nb give a damn about you and Shawty. I just got my guts rearranged by my man, something you couldn't do, so please get blocked yet again. 💁🏻‍♀️

Me and Jey both started laughing as we cuddled in the bed with each other I was lying on his tatted chest while he stroke my hair.

"I love you so much, Tiana. You don't even know, man." Jey said softly.

"I love you too papi," I said as me and him got comfortable before we closed our eyes going to sleep together.

Under Your Touch.

uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, biancabelairwwe and others liked your post.

tianasworld: peace. 🩷 trinity_fatu: girl are you okay? you was very loud last night. tianasworld: @ trinity_fatu girl yo' damn idea was the reason why I got folded like a pretzel. biancabelairwwe: we gotta do this again yall uceyjucey: damn sure did get folded up. 🤗 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey hush boy 🙄🙄 theywantkai: this is why you wasn't jealous? u think he's better than me? uceyjucey: @ theywantkai gtfo dawg like fr.

tianasworld replied to your story: im all yours baby 🫶🏼 MontezFordWWE replied to your story: I seee you jeyy ngl yall was very much loud bro😭😭 zillafatu replied to your story: damn cuzzo yall was turned up or what? biancabelairwwe replied to your story: yo' ass over here folding up my Bestie like she's a chair 🙄 theyhatelanii replied to your story: nigga did you not see what I posted? do you not really give a fuck Jey?

A/N: lawd a mini plot twist but I digress but I am putting Rookie and Novacane on hold for now because I wanna focus on this story and fatal attraction after I finish these two books I will regain focus on Rookie and Novacane.

Not Kehlani and Malakai trying to make them jealous that they're together when Jey and Tiana don't really care lol.

But I hope YALL enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother. 

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds. 

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand. 

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack.  But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.” 

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back. 

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—” 

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him. 

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam. 

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point. 

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break. 

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

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@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

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@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

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@leigh70

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@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 22: Dolce

[subliminalbo]

Internal Affairs #1: The Rookie

By the third week, Lydia’s revulsion was turning into arousal. By the third month, she struggled to remember the assignment at all.

I’m a cop, she reminded herself before rolling her hips, sliding down the john’s cock until it was pressed deep up inside her pussy. A soft moan staggered from Lydia’s lips. Again, I am a cop. Hips roll, cock deep, soft moan. I am a cop. Repeat until the john was satisfied.

It was all part of establishing her cover. Nobody would believe Lydia’s work if she didn’t do the work. Why couldn’t she enjoy it too?

I am a cop.

But she wasn’t a cop. Not really. It had once been Lydia’s dream. When she was eleven, two officers visited her class. The man looked like any other cop on the eleven o’clock news: wide shoulders, short cropped hair, carrying all that “fuck your civil rights” privilege with pride. Most of the boys stared at the gun on his hip, waiting for the little shit brave enough to ask, “Have you killed anybody?”

But it was the female cop that Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off of. She respected the children, spoke to them like people. Not like her partner who addressed the class like he was facing a courtroom. She didn’t look like any woman cop that Lydia had ever seen either. She was tall, and a statuesque beauty made her all the more intimidating. The boys only saw the man and the gun, but Lydia saw the looks between the two. How the man would turn to his partner before giving an answer. He only did it a couple of times, but it was enough for Lydia to know who was really incharge. No one had told her a woman could have that kind of power.

But Lydia’s dream of carrying a badge didn’t make it past high school. She ultimately chose a criminal justice degree at Carpenter State University over the police academy. She never expected that it was less of a path to a future, and more of a strange, meandering way back to her dream.

I am a

“...mindless whore,” the john said as she rode him.

Lydia stared down into his eyes. His face twisted between embarrassing expressions as he fought back the inevitable orgasm. The way he grunted his words, it surprised Lydia that the john could even try to talk dirty to her, most of his mental bandwidth allocated to holding out as long as he could. Lydia wasn’t cheap and she only took one shot for each service rendered. Every John wanted it to count.

“Is that how you like it?” Lydia playfully responded. “Young, dumb, blonde bimbos without a thought in their heads?”

The john grunted something back that a generous listener might say sounded like, “Yeah.”

“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia bit her lip. “My mind is just a wet hole aching to be filled by its Master’s cock.”

“Fuck,” the John gasped. “Say it again.”

“I am a mindless whore.”

“Again,” he pleaded.

“I am a mindless whore!”

“Again!”

I am a mindless whore.

Lydia had been applying to law schools when her professor approached her with the opportunity.

Lydia,

I was hoping you could set some time aside in your calendar to meet with a friend of mine from RPD. I think you’ll find it educational. If you’re interested, shoot me over some dates and I’ll set up the meet.

Best,

Dr. Bloom

Lydia met with the friend from RPD the next week in Dr. Bloom’s office. Lieutenant Barbara Keyes sat across from her at Dr. Bloom’s desk. Dr. Bloom briefly introduced Barbara then excused himself to let the two of them talk. Barbara wanted the meeting to feel informal. “Call me Barbara,” she quickly said when Lydia referred to her by her title. But the location betrayed the intention. Not a lot of people knew that Lieutenant Keyes was there.

Lydia did her best Sam Spade, studying the woman across the desk. Mid-thirties to early forties, no ring on her finger. More likely a divorcee than a spinster. A married to the job kind of cop, she figured. But most important was the confidence–Lydia realized as she watched Barbara speak that she carried herself with the same confidence that had first caught her eye all those years ago in her sixth grade glass.

They chatted for a moment about Lydia’s education, Barbara’s background, and quickly found a comfortable place where they were just talking like old friends until Barbara said, “So Charlie tells me you’re his best student."

“Best,” Lydia laughed. “I don’t know about best–”

“I do,” Barbara cut her off. “I’ve known Charlie a long time and I trust his judgment.”

Lydia sighed, considering her next move, then decided that it was best to just cut through all the bullshit. “So is this a job interview?” she asked.

Barbara sat straight, unmoved by Lydia’s candor. “Lydia, I work in IAD. Do you know what that is?”

“Internal Affairs,” Lydia blinked.

“Unfortunately, I find myself in the position of trusting absolutely no one in the Romero Police Department, which means when it comes to recruits I need to look in unorthodox places.”

“Like Carpenter State,” Lydia said.

“That’s correct.” Barbara nodded. “Now, on top of my position in IAD, I’m also the deputy director of the RPD sex work task force. Since the task force formed two years ago, we’ve managed to clean up much of the areas around Carpenter State, which is a point of emphasis for the commissioner. That being said, River City remains frustratingly impenetrable.”

“I don’t understand,” Lydia said. “So is this a job interview…to go undercover?”

“I need young, female cops,” Barbara said. “But more specifically, I need young, female cops who don’t look like cops.”

Barbara was right. It was unorthodox, even downright unethical. But it was hard for Lydia not to admire the risk she was taking. Barbara Keyes was the kind of woman who valued education over brute force, that’s why she’d turned to Carpenter State for new recruits. And Lydia understood her reasoning too–her dream of becoming a cop came to an abrupt end in high school after a highly public, sweeping police corruption case in Romero upended the department. It had shaken Lydia’s faith in justice, but she couldn’t totally let those values go. If anyone else had come to her with this offer, asked her to play the role of a prostitute as an inexperienced, secret cop? She wouldn’t have just turned them down. She would have blown the fucking whistle. But Barbara was different. Lydia couldn’t stop seeing that cop from sixth grade. For some reason she wanted to do what Barbara asked of her. She had no choice but to accept.

I am a mindless whore.

Lydia always came with the john. That was what made her one of the most popular and expensive whores in River City. She’d been trained that way. She’d been trained that way because it made her a good cop. A good whore was a good cop. But she always seemed to forget about that when she was on top of them, bracing herself against the headboard as her body rocked from the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced. It was always better when she was with a john.

They’d leave the money on the small table by the door and before they exited, Lydia would always offer something to keep them thinking about her.

“Your cock felt so good,” she said, dreamy eyes selling the illusion that this fuck was anything more than a transaction. “Next time I’d even let you cum inside my pussy.”

“You do that?” the john smiled.

“Well,” Lydia pondered as if she wasn’t reading a script. “I’d have to charge an extra five grand. Secret menu, you know? High premium for the risky stuff. But it’s worth it for my favorite.”

The john melted as she batted her eyelashes. They never had that kind of money, but goddamn they would fuck anyone over for that opportunity.

Lydia worked tirelessly through the night. Fucking, sucking, even occasionally offering her shoulder to cry on. She didn’t stop until she saw the pale blue light of the morning sky through the hotel room’s yellowing curtains. She took a quick shower, collected the evening’s take into a fat envelope, then flipped through her phone’s camera roll. 

The johns blurred together until they became one universal face. The only way she remembered them was by the pictures. She insisted on snapping a photo of every john’s ID before taking them to the hotel. “For security,” she would innocently say. 

Nobody had been busted by Lydia yet, so why should they suspect that it was anything more than a safety precaution? The johns liked Lydia and they wanted her to feel safe. But truthfully the IDs were part of the operation, one of the few things that actually made her feel like she was a cop. Barbara had been frustratingly vague on the details of her job, but Lydia knew that she was looking for somebody. Many of the johns were cops, and given Barbara’s role at IAD, Lydia assumed that she was trying to catch one of her own. But who?

She never recognized the faces. And try as hard as she could, she couldn’t match the names to them. They were right there next to the pictures, but something made it impossible for her to think of them as anything other than, “john.” The blue-eyed john, the brown-eyed john, the john with the scar next to his lip. Lydia selected the photos from her roll, a dozen for this night, and forwarded them in an email before deleting them from her phone forever.

Why had she done that? The details of her night’s work were better off with someone who understood it. No reason to burden herself with that knowledge anymore.

Before she could finish dressing, the room's phone rang. She was reluctant to pick it up, but the mechanical sound of the old fashioned landline phone drew her toward it. Something is wrong, she thought. I shouldn’t answer this.

It rang again, and she was powerless. Lydia lifted the receiver from its cradle and pressed it to her ear.

I am a cop.

“Good morning, Lydia,” the voice on the line said.

I am a cop.

“Good morning,” she slowly replied.

I am a

“I trust the evening was productive.”

I am a

“Yes…” she breathed.

I am

“And the IDs?”

I am

“I forwarded them to your email,” she said.

I

“Good,” the voice said. “And the night’s take?”

I

“Twenty-four grand.”

I am a mindless whore.

“That’s very good, Lydia,” the voice replied. “You know where to drop it off.”

Everything Lydia believed she was evaporated at the tinny sound of the telephone’s ring. By the time she heard the voice speak, that Lydia was already gone, replaced with the mindless whore she’d been trained to be. And she was one of the best in River City. She couldn’t fight that truth no matter how hard she tried to lie to herself. It felt too good.

“Tell me what you are, Lydia,” the voice commanded.

“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia said without hesitation. Speaking it out loud now drove her to the edge of another orgasm.

“That’s right,” the voice said, “And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

[artist-issues]

Your words and your posts have been incredibly disheartening for me to see. My mother left the church. She is not an apostate, but she did question the church’s teachings in secret. She completely left faith when I was born. I have congenital heart defects, which I was born with. I nearly died on the operating table. For this reason, my mother and I do not believe in God, who is said to be all-powerful and all-benevolent. My mother is a wonderful person. She risked her life in the Covid-19 pandemic as she works at a hospital. If anyone deserved to live in an eternal paradise, it would be her. Your LGBTQ+ views have also upset me. My oldest friend, who I have known since before I could even remember, is transgender and gay, and have been more supportive to me as a disabled person than any Christian has been. I’m only 18 years old, yet I know that you chose faith over experiences with the wonderful parts of humanity. Respectfully, please reconsider your views on gay and trans people.

I truly appreciate how thoughtfully and respectfully you typed out this message. It is clear that these matters mean a lot to you and I'm going to go ahead and assume that you aren't speaking out of any kind of hate.

I would just offer you a counter-perspective, and maybe by understanding where I'm coming from, you can see that I'm not speaking out of any kind of hate for people, either. I'm half blind. I was born that way. My twin sister and I were taken by emergency cesareans-section when we were incredibly, dangerously premature. My twin was given no chance of survival; the cesarean was just meant to give me a 50% chance of survival. At the time, my mother was recently married to a 19 year-old drug dealer after her own father abused and abandoned her and her mother. She'd been living apart from the faith for years, rejecting God to follow the occult or whatever political party had hear heart at the time. My father hated God.

But when my sister and I were fighting for life for weeks on end, and nobody was sure if we would live or die, and they had to bring us home with heart monitors because our hearts would literally stop beating several times a night, my mom realized how helpless she was to do anything to save us. And she prayed. And we lived. Both of us. Not only that, but my father, at 19 years old, addicted to drugs since the age of 13, narrowly escaped death and gave his life to Christ. After a whole life of having no social skills unless he was high, doing whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted, and caring about nothing but himself, now he is a Pastor (bi-vocationally; he is also a tradesman working with his hands) and has given me and all my family, and many other families, everything we have in our lives through his dedicated and faithful life. He and my mother have been happily married and serving God with their whole lives for almost thirty years now.

And not only them, but me, my twin sister, my younger sister, my little brother, my grandfather (who was an actual killer and drug addict as well) we all know God. We all have a relationship with Him. And that's the biggest most wonderful gift He gave us, out of all those wonderful things He did for us. Saving my life, my dad's life, my twin's life, changing who they were and making them new people.

I'm not telling you all that to like, compare disabilities or traumas or whatever. That would be ridiculous for lots of reasons. But I'm just trying to be honest.

It's not a religion or a system of beliefs that I've subscribed to. It's not a social flag I live under. It's not something I do just because my parents or the people in my immediate community have shown me. It's because He's real, and He showed Himself to me—when it's just me and Him, and nobody else's opinion or say-so matters— and it's all really true—everything the Bible says. And He's so much better, and so much more benevolent, than anyone on earth can describe to you.

And, at the same time, when you understand who He is, and who we are...the question isn't "how could a good God let anyone go to Hell instead of paradise?" The question is, "how could He let any of us live after what we did?" It's hard. But seriously, just play pretend with me for a bit, if only to "understand my perspective." Pretend there was a God, all-powerful, endlessly loving, in fact, Love Itself. The love that was His very nature spilled out so much that He created—created beautiful, amazing, complex creatures who were intrinsically full of worth and light, and made to reflect Him, that Love, back to Him, and share in it. A big happy family.

And then those creatures from the dirt committed cosmic treason and said "screw You, I don't care if You created me and I don't care if You love me or want to be in relationship with me: I want to be You. I want to call the shots." And those creatures from the dirt basically did the cosmic version of climbing in their father's lap to spit in His face, and go stab each other over fleeting pleasures in the gutter because the mansions He was offering them wasn't as good as pretending they could be gods of their own lives.

That's the story. Thats what happened. Read Genesis, if you have the time and if you're of the heart to. And because of what we chose, we got twisted up. I'm sure you read that, in my posts. So even the thing we were made for—love—got mangled up inside us and we can't express it the right way anymore.

He would've been justified in wiping us out. Starting over with new creatures. We were His creation. He gets to decide what we are and what to do with us: we betrayed and insulted and defied our rightful King. But He's not like that. He had no reason to--no obligation to--but He chose to do the work and make a way for us to be back in relationship with Him. And He chose to do it by subjecting Himself to unimaginable torture and darkness, which would have been ours by right if He hadn't taken it for us.

I know that you love your mom. It is plain to see. And I understand the feeling. But if you really get to know the God of the actual Bible, instead of just the memes and the flawed people who try to explain Him—if you really get to know Him, between you and Him, you'll see that He actually loves your mom more than you do. And He loves you more than you, or anyone, does. Because He knows you both better and more intimately than you even know Yourselves. He made you. It'd be like an author getting to dive down into the story and tell their characters everything about themselves.

That's the kind of love we were made for. The kind of love that is there even though you don't deserve it, even though you're not entitled to it—the kind of love that would die for you while you're still hating Him.

I mean just stop and think about it, clear your brain of everything everyone has ever told you about LGBTQ+ and all that. And just think: can you love someone wholeheartedly and still know they're in the wrong? Even when they wholeheartedly believe they're right? Even when they're hurt by you believing they're in the wrong? Of course you can. Anyone who's had a loved one with a self-destructive habit, like alcohol addiction or an abusive lover or just a toxic personality trait or two, can relate to that common sense. They can say, "of course I love you. That's why I'm telling you to stop doing this, it's hurting you, it's not good for you, I know it doesn't feel that way, but it's the truth."

So if you believe that there are some circumstances where that applies, what makes it so unloving for this hypothetical God, who knows the best thing for your friend and knows your friend better than you do, to say so about being LGBTQ+? Why should LGBTQ+ be any different?

Well, the answer, of course, is that you don't believe it is true that it's wrong. Because, if we rewind, you don't believe in God. But you just told me that you came to that conclusion kind of...after feeling hurt by Him. You almost died, first , then your mom chose to leave Him behind and go ahead and live as if He doesn't exist. And you did, too.

But let's go back to playing pretend. If God exists, then He didn't act how you think He should've, as an "benevolent" God: He didn't do YOUR version of "good." So you abandoned Him. (We're pretending like He exists, from your perspective.) He didn't do your version of good, you feel mistreated, so you walked away from Him.

But He would never do that to you. If He's the kind of person the Bible says He is, He doesn't treat you that way. When you (humanity) didn't do His version (which is the only real version, since He invented it) of good, He didn't abandon you. He totally could have. But instead He made a way for your relationship to get fixed. But you have free will. So He's not going to force you to love Him and accept the gift. If you want to continue for all eternity without being with Him, you can. He gives you that option.

But then don't wonder why people who choose that option don't get "eternal paradise." Because according to the Bible, that's all heaven is: getting to be in relationship with God forever. Fully who He made you to be. If you don't want that, He won't force it: in fact, He couldn't. It wouldn't be just, and He is always just.

The truth is, after what we did to Him, none of us deserve anything from Him. I didn't deserve to survive in that ICU. Neither did my sister. Neither did my father or mother or grandfather. None of us should be allowed to inhale another breath; we're the King's people who betrayed Him and tried to steal His throne. But He is so good that instead He turns around and adopts us.

I know this is rambly. But you messaged me so genuinely, I just sort of wrote this as if I were sitting down and talking it all out, one word in front of the other, with you. I don't know you. I know these are very hot button topics, and very personal issues; but like you, I think they're of the utmost importance.

So I will keep considering the LGBTQ+ and transgender issues—but you have to understand that I'm in service to the King, so to speak. I love Him, He loves me, and He's my God. When I consider any part of reality, it's impossible to do so without Him as the center and standard of truth. Without Him, who gets to decide what's right or wrong? Just me. And on my own, I am inconsistent, selfish, ruinous. But I'm not on my own. And in the meantime, I'll ask you to consider God, the real God, of the Bible. Not what a church of whatever denomination tells you—not to start with. Not what I tell you, or anyone tells you. Just what He said about Himself, straight from the Bible. Let Him speak for Himself. Thanks for reaching out.

[queenjunothegreat]

Hello everyone!!! *(waves)* I would like to formally apologize for yesterday's angst. I'm definitely very sorry and will not be doing that again. I'm also for sure NOT lying >;3c Today I come bearing a not sad fic, though! It is just as silly and fluffy as the title would lead you to believe, so I hope you have fun with it!

So, here is Ao3 Anniversary Collection Day Eleven: Vacation

“I hate the beach,” Leo whined, burying his nose in the crook of Jason’s shoulder. “I wanna go home. This sucks.” Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” “It’s hot,” Leo complained. “Like, I’m always hot, but it’s usually fine because around me is cooler than I am. It is literally hotter than my body temperature right now, and that’s saying something. Summers in Texas were bad enough, but I could always hide inside where the AC was, and nobody ever took me to the beach.” The logical part of Jason wanted to point out that their cuddle session likely wasn’t helping with the whole overheating thing, but he’d long learned that logic and reason had little room when it came to Leo’s moods. Besides, he was, personally, quite content with their current arrangement. He rested his cheek on Leo’s curls and hummed sympathetically. “That’s rough, buddy." *** Jason and Leo take a vacation to the beach. Turns out, neither of them like the beach, but they love each other and that makes it all okay. Ao3 Anniversary Collection Day Eleven: Vacation

It was about two thirty on the third and final day of their beach trip when Jason found himself with a lapful of damp, whiny boyfriend. Jason had been sitting under the umbrella, slathered in sunscreen and desperately trying to avoid a sunburn (Will had warned that they would not be administering Nectar or Ambrosia for “things that are your own damn fault”) while he picked through a book Annabeth had recommended. Piper and Reyna had spent the morning surfing together, while Leo splashed around in the water and made sand castles and whatever else he could think of to entertain himself. Now, it seemed that Jason was to be the subject of his entertainment.

“Hi there,” Jason hummed, running his fingers through Leo’s hair. Leo was still wet from the water, and was half-soaking Jason, but he didn’t really mind all that much.

“I hate the beach,” Leo whined, burying his nose in the crook of Jason’s shoulder. “I wanna go home. This sucks.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?”

“Officially, yes, but Piper begged me to suggest it so she could show off her surfing skills in front of Reyna while still playing it cool,” he grumbled. After a moment he added, “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Jason swore. He shifted a bit so he was a bit more comfortable holding Leo in his arms. “What don’t you like about it? It seemed like you’ve been having fun the past couple days.”

“It’s hot,” Leo complained. “Like, I’m always hot, but it’s usually fine because around me is cooler than I am. It is literally hotter than my body temperature right now, and that’s saying something. Summers in Texas were bad enough, but I could always hide inside where the AC was, and nobody ever took me to the beach.”

The logical part of Jason wanted to point out that their cuddle session likely wasn’t helping with the whole overheating thing, but he’d long learned that logic and reason had little room when it came to Leo’s moods. Besides, he was, personally, quite content with their current arrangement. He rested his cheek on Leo’s curls and hummed sympathetically. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Leo snickered quietly and fiddled with the large wooden button on the front of Jason’s shirt. “What about you? You enjoying your slice of island life?”

Jason considered that. He’d certainly enjoyed spending so much time outside the past two days, and he’d had fun when Leo had shown him how to build sandcastles that first day, but in general? “Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s been fine, but definitely not my favorite.”

Leo hummed. “What has been your favorite?”

“The cabin we visited last winter,” he answered immediately.

“Really? That? Didn’t we spend, like, the whole time locked inside because of a freak snow storm?”

That was honestly part of why Jason liked it so much. It was nearly a week straight of wrestling Leo onto every comfortable-looking surface and cuddling him within an inch of his life while Leo giggled breathlessly at him. “The snow was fun, and it was a good excuse to drink obscene amounts of hot chocolate.”

“Fair point.” Leo sighed softly and rubbed his cheek on Jason’s shoulder. “You never went swimming with me. Is that part of why you don’t like the beach?”

“Partially,” Jason confessed. “I’m still not super comfortable with the ocean. I’m not getting in unless Percy’s here to drag me out.”

Leo hummed again and let his eyes flutter shut. “I wouldn’t let you drown. I’d save you,” he mumbled quietly.

Jason felt his face go gooey with affection and he pressed a kiss into Leo’s curls. “I know you would.” 

Leo continued to sleepily mumble stuff, so Jason called a cool, gentle breeze to wash over the both of them. Leo shivered as it brushed over his still-damp skin before he fully relaxed into Jason’s chest with a contented sigh that sounded like it was pulled straight from the depths of his soul. Jason smiled softly and tangled his fingers in Leo’s curls, humming in that way that Leo loved so much. The one where his whole chest rumbled and vibrated, but the sound was so quiet it hardly made it home to Leo’s ears. He hummed until the sound of Leo’s soft snores filled the space between them, and then he just kept on humming. 

They stayed like that for a good long while. Long past the moment where Jason’s legs fell asleep and the sun dipped down to shine directly in his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a sharp twinge of hunger that he realized that Leo had probably forgotten to eat lunch, too, so he gently shook Leo awake, cooing comforting nonsense while Leo whined and dragged his feet on the way back to the realm of the living. 

He puckered his face up at Jason and pouted up at him with foggy brown eyes. “Whadda you want?”

Jason grinned and pressed a kiss right between Leo’s furrowed brows and Leo just squeezed his eyes shut and screwed his face up tighter in response. Jason grinned wider. “Come on. Let’s head up to the house.”

Leo looked appalled at the very notion. “I’m comfortable.”

“Yeah, well, I’m hungry, and I bet you are, too,” Jason countered. “If we pack up, we can take a shower and go get dinner at that pizza place you wanted to try.”

Leo didn’t look convinced. “Do we have to?”

“No, we don’t have to do anything, if you really don’t want to,” Jason admitted immediately. “But it would make me happy if we did.”

“You’re such a manipulative little bastard,” Leo accused. “No one believes me when I tell them, but I know the truth.”

Jason arched his eyebrows and pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I’m not hearing a no from you.”

Leo made a disgusted noise at him and nipped at the underside of Jason’s jaw. “Yeah, yeah, fine. We can go get pizza. What about Pipes and Reyna?”

Jason flicked his gaze up to where Piper and Reyna were still way out on the water, straddling their boards and chatting with one another, just like they had all day. “Honestly, I don’t think they’d notice if we packed up and went back to New Rome without them.”

Leo snorted and pecked a kiss to the same spot on Jason’s jaw that he’d bitten seconds before and scrambled to his feet before offering Jason a hand. “You’ve got a point. Come on, let’s get out of here. You’re right, I’m starving.”

Jason happily let Leo pull him up. His legs were still numb from his hours of playing nap spot for Leo, so he stumbled, which just made Leo laugh, so he deliberately stumbled a bit harder. They gathered up all the supplies they’d brought down that morning (he highly doubted Piper and Reyna would remember to grab anything they left, assuming they weren’t completely wiped out from their surfing adventures) before trudging back towards their rented condo hand in hand. During their shower, Leo complained about the damage the salt water was going to do to his hair and Jason accidentally got a mouthful of soap, but the kisses swapped in comfort more than made up for the experience. The pizza place they went to was crowded and a little overpriced, but it was good, and the crowd gave them an excuse to huddle together in a hazy corner, pressed against one another from shoulder to ankle. When they eventually made it back to the house after the sun had thoroughly set, Piper was waiting for them with milkshakes she and Reyna had made, and the four of them sat together on the balcony, watching the way the moonlight glinted on the waves, and swapping stories in the soft silence of the beach for another few hours until Piper fully fell asleep, slumped heavily on Reyna’s shoulder and snoring loud enough to mask Leo’s laughter. Reyna had fondly rolled her eyes and escorted Piper back to their shared room while Jason and Leo did the same.

Once they were tucked securely under the covers, Jason reached out for Leo and pulled him close, gently pressing their foreheads together. “Did you have fun today?”

Leo grinned up at him, crooked teeth glinting in the low light and eyes shining brighter than the sun. “I always have fun with you, Jace.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, his face soft and warm. “I always have fun with you, too.”

Leo pressed their lips together in a brief kiss, and Jason let out a sigh, content to finally fall asleep. 

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 23

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

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Previous: Chapter 22 - This is MY Family

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 23 – She's Ours 

Andy 

Growing up, we used to be a threesome. But when we graduated from high school, Luke and I went to Boston University. Lloyd Hansen decided to go to play football for Harvard and then enlisted in the military.  

(By the way, nobody goes to Harvard to play football. But Lloyd has always been the exception.) 

It was hard to keep in touch with him when he was undercover or on a mission. But whenever he came home, I made sure I had time. That he came to a game.  

Lloyd Hansen has always had my back. That’s why I knew he was the only call I could make.  

“You’re exes are pieces of work, Barber.” Lloyd popped the candy from his mouth. “I mean, Jesus, what kind of person tries to take a child from a good mother? Should’ve let me run background checks on them.”  

“Like we knew they were capable of this,” I mutter as I take a sip of my coffee.  

“You should have seen it coming, princess.” Lloyd laughed before turning to Luke. “Need me to check out Miranda?”  

“The fact that you only met her a handful of times already tells me that you checked.” Lloyd winked and Luke sighed. “Look, did you find anything?” 

“I’m insulted.” Lloyd pouts. “I can’t believe that you doubt me.” 

“Fucking dramatic Hansen,” I tell him. I ball a napkin and throw it at his face. “I left my girlfriend and baby for this meeting.”  

“You’re no fun.” Lloyd reached down on the seat a picked up a manila envelope. “Like I said before, your exes are pieces of work. Ass-wipe number one, also known as Bret Anderson, started researching adoption procedures and parental rights after the incident at the baby shower. His lawyer, an idiot with very soft security measures, has drafted a sole custody agreement.”  

“Fucking hell,” I look at the copies of the paperwork. “When does her mother come into this?” 

“Right before. She places a call to Japan, about thirty minutes before a wire transfer of $1 Million hits his account.”  

“Why the fuck would my mother pay him?” 

Lloyd shakes his head. “I don’t think it was to pay him. I assume it was to finance.” Lloyd pulls another envelope. “This is where Fiona Mancini comes in. Andy,” he looks at me with a serious face I’ve only seen a few times in my life, “did you know that Fiona had ties to the New York Mafia?” 

My heart stops. “What?” 

“Yeah, Fiona is the niece of the don of New York’s underboss.” When I give him a blank look, he rolls his eyes. “You’re such a boy scout. It's the second in command. She is his niece. And while he wasn’t happy that she was in a relationship that was not approved by the family, he is more unhappy that she is unhappy.”  

“What the, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, fuck?” 

“Yep,” Lloyd popped that ’P’ like it was going out of style. “Fortunately, for you, I happened to have had dealings with this man before. I explained what his precious Fiona had done and well,” he smiled sadistically, “Craig Bailey has other problems then sitting suspended for knocking out your goalie.”  

“Fuck me,” Luke mumbled.  

“Indeed. He sends his apologies for the lies and hurt that his niece has caused, and she will be dealt with. So that part worked out. However, I have copies of everything and his phone number for you, just in case.”  

“Thank Lloyd.”  

“Oh, and he asked if you could go easy on his Islanders. The Rangers not so much.”  

This got a startled chuckle from me and Luke. “I’ll see what we can do.”  

“As for Bret, all the financials and legals are there. I already contacted your attorney for you and said that you might need some loss of parental rights and other possible paperwork set up.  He’s waiting for your call.”  

“I don’t know how to thank you Lloyd.”  

“Some box seats and an invite to the wedding would be nice. A bottle of scotch.”  

“I’ll send two.”  We stand and I give Lloyd a hug.  “Thank you, brother.”  

“Yeah, yeah. Kiss the girls for me and tell Leia that I saw her medical report.  She’s stronger than all of us and I’m lowkey jealous of how badass she is. You better be good to her. Or I’ll kill you.” He flashes me a wink. 

The problem with that statement is that he could. And it would look like an accident.   

I’m starting to hate the country club. The boys and I usually come here on the off season to play a couple of rounds, and the Bruins always host a charity tournament for the children’s hospital.  I think that maybe the only time I come here from now on. Especially if this meeting goes south.  

I turn to my best friend. “Are you ready for this?” 

He takes a fortifying breath. “No but it needs to be done. She’s gone too far now.” He looks at me. “Are you ready?” 

“Yep.” We walk towards the private dining room that I booked for today. The last thing I needed was for this meeting to go public. Not unless it was on my terms.  They are sitting there, waiting, talking quietly. They smile when they see me but Monica’s face falls when she sees her son.  She stands up. “Lukas, I didn’t expect to see you here.”  

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t.” He doesn’t move to greet her like a son should greet his mother.  He just sits across from her, a hard look on his face. Luke is someone who doesn’t get pissed often. But when he does, it's like raining hell fire. The one person he will always go nuclear for is Leia.  

I love that he’s on my team, professionally and personally.  

“Why did you come here?” Bret or Ass-wipe #1 as Lloyd called him, asks. God, his face is punch-able, especially when he looks like a petulant five-year-old.  

Luke shrugs. “When it comes to my baby sister and my niece, their problems will always be my problems.” 

I cleared my throat.  “We’re here to discuss the blackmail.”  

“Oh, Andrew, I wouldn’t call it blackmail,” Monica says sweetly. “It would be an arrangement to bring a family back together.”  

“This family is not broken,” I say through gritted teeth. “My family is perfect. So call it what it is Monica, its blackmail.”  I lean forward. “It’s coercion in the worst form. But,” I sit back, “I am willing to negotiate.”  

“You’re a smart man, Barber,” Bret says. “Now as I said before,” he slides a contract in front of me, “you sign over your parental rights, sign an affidavit stating that you are no longer in a relationship with Leia and the photos will not be published. Monica will also transfer the money to you right away.”  

I stare at the paperwork. These papers would take away the only family I have. The little girl who took my heart between her tiny hands and squeezed just two months ago. I think of the woman who makes me feel complete, my perfect match. I think of the future that I could be giving up but remember that I have the ace up my sleeve.  

“No.”  

A stunned look crossed both of their faces. “What do you mean no?” Monica sneered. “These pictures...” 

“Don’t compare to the financial statements and emails that you shared with Fiona and Bret.” I pulled the copies of the documents Lloyd had given to me and they both pale significantly. “I’ve highlighted the appropriate passages.” I pointed to them. “Proof that you have doctored the photos and are blackmailing me and Leia.”  

“I am a respected member of Boston society,” Monica argues. “No one will believe you.”  

I shrug. “Then I guess we can involve Antonio Mancini then.”  

“Who...” Bret starts but I cut him off.  

“Who is Antonio Mancini? Yeah, that’s Fiona’s uncle. He’s also known as the underboss of the New York mob.” Man, I wish I had been filming their reactions because, while the image of their shock and disbelief is burned in my brain, I would have loved to shown Leia.  

“Andy, be reasonable,” Monica starts.  

“You lost that right when you decided to blackmail by best friend, Mother.” Luke looks murderous.  

“Here is what is going to happen.” I pulled the papers I had gotten from my lawyer that morning. “You,” pointing to Bret, “are going to sign your parental rights over my baby girl and fucking disappear from our lives.  I also want you,” pointing to Monica, “to sign this affidavit stating that you are giving me all proofs and copies of these photos to me and that you will keep away from your daughter and granddaughter. At a time of her choosing, Leia will tell you whether she wants you in your granddaughter’s life or not.”  

“You can’t do this,” Monica squeaked. “Lukas, you can’t allow this.”  

“Not my decision but I support it one hundred percent. You abandoned us Mother, when Pops died. You choose money over being with us. Live with the consequences.”  

“I did what I needed to do to survive.”  

“So did we. Sign the papers.  Let Leia live the life she deserves.” He turns to Bret. “I warned you, when you came to me to ask Leia to move in.  I warned you not to hurt her. Not only did you do that, but you left her when she needed you most of all.  Thank God that she had the right man in her corner all along.” He looks at me. “He worships her. He protects her. He cares for them. He loves them.”  

Bret looks stricken. But without another word, he signed the papers, gets up and leaves. We’re now left with Monica, who’s perfect makeup is now streaked with tears. “Sign them Monica, and I’ll talk to Leia,” I tell her.  “Don’t make me go to the papers with this or the police.”  

“I just... I thought I was doing what was best for her.” She wipes at her face with a napkin before picking up the pen and signing. “Luke...” 

“No, not right now. I’ll decide when we speak again Mother.” Luke turns away. Monica lets another tear slide before she gets up and walks out.  

I blew out a breath. “Did that actually work?” 

“Yeah, it did, brother.” He notices another paper in the folder. “What’s this?” 

“The future.” I see that Luke’s phone is on. “What’s that?” 

“Revenge.”  He stops the recording and then sends it to an email address.  

k.dilaurentis@dilaurentislaw.com  

I stare up at him and he shrugs with a half-smile. “I’m petty. Sue me.” 

I drove around for a while after I had dropped Luke off at his house. I needed a moment to think. To reflect. To believe in my dreams again. I had been so close to losing it all. Yes, I could have survived Leia and Avery being taken away from me, but I wouldn’t have lived anymore.  

A year ago, I thought that I was going to be ok on my own. Just me and hockey. I had no idea that the house I bought we become my home. That the girl I watched grown up and then pined for, would become my girl. That she would bless me with a beautiful daughter.  

I didn’t know that losing one of my best friends would be the best thing that ever happened to me.  

I drove back to my home, relief flooding through me that I would find my queen and my princess there and that would never change. That the family we created would be together forever.  Pulling into the garage, I looked at the folder with the documents all of them had been signed except for one. Taking that particular one with me as I dropped my coat and keys in the entry way, I made my way to find my girls.  

It wasn’t hard to find them. Leia was rocking Avery in her room, singing a lullaby to her as she fed her. I watched silently, enjoying the beauty of the moment. To see mother and daughter together in the most natural way.  

“I know you’re watching me, love.” Leia didn’t look away from our daughter, but I saw the small smile on her face.  

“How is she?” I walked into the room, sat on the ottoman and leaned over to see my girl. She had a sleepy, milk-drunk smile on her pouty lips, eyes closed, dreaming her sweet dreams.  

“She’s perfect,” Leia said to me. She finally looked up at me but frowned. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” I looked at her before I kneeled before her. “Nothing is wrong.”  

“Why are you kneeling? Andy...” 

“I’m kneeling before you because I have to tell you something.” I took a breath. “I met with Bret and Monica today.” Leia went to speak but I stopped her. “Let me finish. I met with them, and we talked and they signed the papers.”  

“What?” 

“Bret signed away his parental rights and your mom signed an agreement that she would have no contact with us, with you, until you were ready.”  

Leia let out a soft sob. “So, it's over?” 

“Not quite.” I pulled the paper from where I dropped it on the floor.  “This is the final piece. I know you put my name on the birth certificate, but I didn’t sign it. I looked it up and since I wasn’t biologically the father, I couldn’t. But, when I picked up the papers for the meeting, I asked my lawyer to draft one more.” I handed it to Leia for her to read.  

She read it and gasp. “An application for formal adoption? You want to adopt her?” 

“I know I’m her daddy in every other way, but I want to make sure she knows, that the whole world knows, I’m her daddy and she’s ours. Will you sign the papers so we can be an official, on the record family?” The tears flow down her beautiful face and I try to thumb them away as much as I can. “Is that a yes?” 

She sputtered a laugh. “It's a hell yes!” I hugged them both as best I could before take Avery in my arms. I rocked her back to sleep before missing her forehead and breathing in that sweet baby smell.  

She is my princess, my baby girl, our daughter.  

Forever.  

NEXT

@patzammit @texmexdarling @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @tinkerbelle67 @before-we-get-started @bunnyforhim @alexakeyloveloki @sunnyhummingbee @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @peaceinourtime82 @saucy-sassy-sparkly @kmc1989 @kandis-mom @lokislady82

[goldrushenthusiast]

Analysis on Snow and Lucy Gray’s relationship, as requested by @mym00nagedaydr3am :).

They definitely loved each other, though their reasons for it may have been out of their control, and it wasn’t true love. That’s the best way I can put it.

Coriolanus Snow- he talked about how he had thought about his future wife before, and how nobody but Persephone the cannibal was really that appealing to him. In drops Lucy Gray. She immediately captured his -and everyone else’s- attention, and in the first thirty minutes of knowing him she saved his life and his reputation. That definitely leaves a mark.

Coriolanus is drawn to things that are unlike the ordinary. We know this because of how he reacts to Katniss and Peeta’s fire costume, and how he reacts to a bunch of their stunts in general. I’m not as huge a hunger game fan as bosas though, so I can’t speak much on that. But, I do know Coriolanus thought (rightfully) about how people from district 12 were “stunted, joint swollen, and always died within the first 5 minutes.” (the beginning of chapter 2). He was surprised by Lucy Gray because she was clean, she had makeup on, and she made an excellent first impression (saving his life & reputation).

This was only amplified further by the fact that Lucy Gray sat down with him, and stood up for herself by demanding he believe she could win it. Coriolanus didn’t see that coming. He fully believed that his tribute would be terrible, and the shock of her not being so gave Coriolanus a bit of a boost in falling in love. He expected the worst, got the best, and the room in the middle had to be filled with love.  

I’d mention how Coriolanus also sees Lucy Gray as his property, and how he’s been raised with that mindset, but tbh that whole “she’s mine, she belonged to me, blah blah blah” part of their relationship is just so weird and off-putting, though it does make sense for his character. Lucy Gray would not be having that though, lmao. 

Now, Lucy Gray- she had just gotten out of a bad relationship, and her ex having sentenced her nearly to death is a great way to move on quickly! 

Lucy Gray likes courage, and bravery. I can’t find any exact quotes at the moment, but Lucy Gray did thank Coriolanus for protecting her & the covey from Mayfair when he killed her at the hob even though it was hard for him. The act of even showing up to the station, how it was a test to see how willing he was, also proves this. 

Lucy Gray also values family, above all else. She tries to make goats milk for Maude Ivory to “bring a bit of happy into her life.” She says the only thing she would miss would be them when she left district 12. Coriolanus accepts her family, and her “crazy” stories about them not being really district fairly quickly. She definitely appreciated that.

Not going to lie, at the beginning, Lucy Gray probably was only flirting to intrigue Coriolanus. In chapter 25, she says “Sure, I flirt with anybody. It’s part of my job.” I believe she still has this mindset when she arrives at the capitol. She is used to living by her charms (and voice), and so that’s exactly what she does. Coriolanus actually treats her with respect, and as a person, opposed to the other inmates & their mentors, so he also leaves quite the good impression on her. 

Their relationship in district 12 takes a different turn, though. At the beginning, it’s fine. She is overjoyed to see him, and finds it very romantic. “You found me.” “You knew I would.” things like that get said to each other often in the beginning. But soon things change. They have the fight about their dads being killed by the other, which I believe is fundamental to their relationship. Lucy Gray thinks that capitol people are all terrible, and by the way Coriolanus jumps straight to defense tells her a lot about him. 

Of course, they make up (and out), and Lucy Gray is very appreciative of how Coriolanus treats Maude Ivory and his “clear” devotion to his friend. I’m quite sure Coriolanus’ relationship with Sejanus was actually quite a bonus point in their own, so when she realized that Coriolanus betrayed him, she realized he could betray her too. 

That’s another thing about Lucy Gray. Trust. She never had it with Billy Taupe, and she thought she had it with Coriolanus, but she actually didn’t. It’s very important to her, so when she realized he had lied to her, she couldn’t just move on from that. 

That’s another one of the most interesting aspects of both of them. How quickly they fell out of love, and towards hate and murder. When Lucy Gray realized that Coriolanus killed Sejanus, and that he’d have no qualms about staying in district 12 now that he got rid of the guns, she knew she had been betrayed. When Coriolanus realized Lucy Gray knew, he easily started shooting at her, albeit not before trying to at least talk. This goes to show how they were both raised. Coriolanus to fend for himself, Lucy Gray to think about what her relationships with everyone around her mean and represent. 

Coriolanus also says that he was “beginning to sympathize with Billy Taupe.” This clearly shows that the second that his relationship with her was over, that he could no longer benefit from it, he turned on her. He said “hell no!” and got out of there with a mind that only amplified what he now thought of her. Vicious, cutthroat, and manipulative, all things he also was. Coriolanus’ victim mindset is also very interesting tbh. 

In the end, I’m very sure Lucy Gray lived. She’s smarter than a lot of people give her credit for, especially Coriolanus (until the last few pages). They wouldn’t have worked out long term, due to their differences in what family meant, what the capitol meant, and just in general how different they were, but just them being together probably changed both their lives. Coriolanus’ for the better, Lucy Gray’s for the worst, which actually represents a lot of what happens in their other relationships (Snow lands on top, Lucy Gray is forgotten.) 

That just made me remember! Lucy Gray’s ballad! A stroke of GENIUS writing. How Lucy gray mysteriously vanishes in the blizzard, how her parents don’t realize how far she is gone until it is too late, how she leaves no trace except in the middle of a BRIDGE, because that’s what they were to each other. A bridge to the other’s life. I might have to make a separate post about this stupid ballad, but yeah. 

If you read this all THANK YOU!! It means a lot :). If not, I don’t blame you, this is probably my longest tumblr post so far lol. I just find this whole book so fascinating. 

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Thirty-Four: The Piggyback

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 5,826 Warnings: squint for fluff, angst, canon violence, liv being indecisive but go with it, buggy = shopping cart in southern terms, Smut: no | yes; 18+ MINORS DNI: A/N: Hi, friends! I can't believe we're one chapter away from the end until Season 5 comes out! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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When Steve found a spot under a tree to park the RV, Nance immediately jumped into action telling us the plan that we’ve heard a million times already. The only few things on my mind was hoping that Max was gonna be okay in the end, Dustin being safe and not getting hurt, and Steve living so that I can kiss him stupid the rest of our lives.

But all of that being on my mind didn’t stop Nancy from saying, “Okay. I wanna run it through one more time.”

Groaning, I said, “Nancy! We’ve gone over this a million times over.”

“Just to make sure everyone has it so that no one deviates from the plan.”

Slapping my hands on my thighs, I stood up saying, “Fine. You wanna run it over again? Fine. Phase fucking One, meet Erica at the playground across the street from the Creel house who will signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready. Phase fucking Two-”

“Max baits Vecna,” Steve interrupted.

“Which I’m not fucking okay with because he’ll put her in a trance before lifting her in the air to snap her bones,” I add. “Phase fucking Three, Dusty and Eddie will somehow distract the bats from the House, which I’m also not okay with. Phase fucking Four, we, as in myself, Steve, Robin and you, Nance, will all four go in to the House that is now bat-free, find Vecna and flambé his ass to a deeper part of hell. Oh, and Phase fucking Five, we can’t die ‘cause I gotta be able to kiss my boyfriend stupid.”

It was silent for a moment before Nancy said, “Nobody moves on to the next Phase until we’ve all copied.”

“And don’t fucking deviate, please,” I added before whispering, “For the love of God.”

“Got it?”

I walked out of the RV with my weapons in hand as everyone else repeated the words back to Nancy, Steve calling my name a couple of seconds later, his hand on my back not a moment after that.

Stopping my steps, I took a deep breath, releasing it before he asked, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“I’m just scared,” I whispered. “And nervous, and anxious, and terrified… petrified!... worried as hell about Max. She’s been through so much in the last 8 months.”

“And you’ve been there for her every step of the way,” he replied, placing his hand on my cheek lovingly.. “You’re like the big sister she never had.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Dustin called out.

Steve and I sighed at the same time, chuckling softly once we realized it. Grabbing my hand to lace our fingers, he said, “Come on. Let’s go kick Vecna’s ass.”

“Gladly.”

We made our walk to Eddie’s trailer, stopping about halfway to place a quick kiss on each other’s lips. Steve walked into the trailer first, turning on the lights and placing his bag on the ground. I walked in after, followed by Nancy, Robin, Dustin and Eddie.

“Be careful,” Dustin said.

“Thanks, buddy,” Steve said. Looking at me for a quick moment, he said, “I love you” before giving me the quickest kiss he’s ever given me before grabbing the sheet, saying, “Here goes nothing” before he hoisted himself up the sheets into the Gate and down - well, I guess up in this case - into the Upside Down by doing some sort of flipping motion before landing on his feet.

He looked up at us, as we did him, before he walked away as Robin sarcastically said, “Ohhhhhh! What does he want us to do, applaud?”

He came into view with a mattress for a landing pad. “Let’s go.”

I dropped my own bag, grabbing the sheet when Nancy grabbed it at the same time. Looking at her with raised brows, I said, “Uhm, I’m going next.”

“Well, I’m in charge of this whole operation,” she replied.

“Babe, let’s go,” Steve said.

I saw her twitch ever so slightly before I shook my head and let go. She hoisted herself up, flipping to land on her back on the mattress. Robin and I looked at each other for a split second before she squatted a little, fingers laced with her palms up. A hand on my back had me looking at who touched me; Eddie, moving to stand opposite of Robin in the same stance.

“Come on, Liv,” Eddie said.

I moved to stand in between Eddie and Robin, putting my foot into Eddie’s hands, releasing a deep breath before looking at the sheet in front of me, saying, “This better be like fucking gym class.”

Robin and Eddie snickered as I grabbed the sheets, feeling them move in sync to stand, helping to hoist me up the sheets before I entered the Gate, my hair that was once below me now above me. “Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.” I closed my eyes as I dropped, feeling another body collide with mine. “Feet, ass or face?”

“Neither,” Steve chuckled. 

I opened my eyes quickly to see what he was talking about, and the sight had me swooning. Somehow in between my climbing the sheets and dropping, Steve had moved to stand on the mattress, catching me as I fell from letting go of the sheets. “I think I just fell in love with you even more if that’s at all possible.”

He kissed me as he placed me on my feet, both of us getting off the mattress before mine, his and Nancy’s bags landed before us.

Eddie was the next human to drop down before his shield was dropped, Robin and her gear dropping before the rest of Dustin and Eddie’s gear dropped, my brother being the last human to hit the mattress. He looked a little disoriented for a moment before Eddie and Steve helped him up.

Nancy, Robin, Steve, myself, Dustin and Eddie all exited the trailer… in that order, before I turned around and said to Eddie and Dustin, “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you fucking abort.” I looked at Dustin, saying, “Got me? Abort mission.”

“Draw the attention of the bats,” Steve added. “Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna.”

“Being cute or fucking heroes or shit isn’t gonna work here,” I said. “This isn’t a board game. This is the real freakin’ deal. Okay? I’m sorry to say that you’re-”

“Decoys,” Dustin said. “Don’t worry. Steve, here, can be the hero.”

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. “I mean, look at us. We are noooooooot heroes.” He softly chuckled.

I pulled Dustin into a hug, one that he immediately returned. “Please be safe, Dusty. Mom and I can’t lose you,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he whispered back. 

I pulled back from the hug, turning to Eddie to give him one as well as I whispered, “Please keep him safe.” I pulled back, placing my hands on his cheeks. “I need you to be safe, as well, Munson. Dustin and I can’t lose our best friend.”

He nodded slightly before he wrapped his arms around my middle, giving me another hug. We stayed like that as he said, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

I backed away from the hug, going to Dustin to give him one more, kissing him on his forehead. “I love you, Dusty.”

“I love you, too, Liv,” Dustin replied.

“Come on, babe,” Steve said.

I turned and walked to him, our fingers entwining as we started our walk towards the woods behind the trailer park, and I honestly wasn’t sure how long we’d been walking for before I started complaining.

“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe,” I whined. “Distract me from all this walking. My feet hurt.”

Robin answered my call by saying, “Uh… I don’t mean to freak anyone out, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”

“Don’t say that, Robs.”

“That’s impossible,” Nancy said.

“That would suck if we did,” I said.

“If Vecna destroyed the world because… ‘cause we got lost in the woods?” Robin said.

“Robin Buckley, you stop it,” I said, a little sternly.

“We’re not lost, Robin,” Nancy replied to her.

Robin started chuckling as she walked off, Nancy following behind her saying, “Robin, hey. Watch out for the vines! Hive mind.”

That left Steve and I by ourselves, which was very nice. I sighed deeply while resting my head on his shoulder as we followed after Nancy and Robin, our steps a little bit more slower than theirs.

“Don’t worry about Robin,” Steve said. “She’s just stressed.”

“Scared,” I breathed. Looking up at him, I smiled softly. “I know. It’s just… she’s super klutzy.”

“So are you,” he chuckled. 

“But I’m not as bad as she is,” I said, smiling up at him.

“When you’re extremely tired, yes you are.”

“Well, at least I didn’t crawl backwards when I was a baby.”

“Always in reverse,” he said.

“Not always.”

“You push to move, right? I mean, it makes sense.”

“Not really,” I chuckled.

He let go of my hand for a moment before putting his arm around my neck, letting his hand dangle by my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his middle, being careful of the ax on his back.

“Well, it did to my little Harrington brain,” Steve said. “That is until I reversed my baby butt down a flight of stairs and thumped my head really good.”

I chuckled, resting the back of my head on his arm. “You never told me that!”

“I didn’t?” he asked. “Hm. Thought I did.”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head lightly. “But that explains a lot.”

“Yeah, I think it kinda does,” he replied, kissing the side of my head. “I think, like, right of the gate, like, I’m super confident, ya’know, but I’m also, like, an idiot. Which is just… like, it’s a brutal combination.”

“No you’re not,” I said, looking up at him.

“But, I mean, the good news is, I get a big enough thump on my head, I can change, ya’know. I can… learn. I can… crawl forward.” He was quiet for a moment before he said, “Listen, I guess what I’m trying to say in a really stupid, roundabout way is, uhm…” He stopped walking, which made me stop walking to look up at him since I had looked at the ground to watch for vines. He cupped my cheek causing me to lean into it as he said, “Is thank you.”

“Thank me?” I said, softly. “For what?”

“For giving my head the biggest thump of its life two years ago. I needed it.”

With furrowed brows, I followed the pattern on his shirt that I could see in this darkness, thinking of when I gave him that thump two years ago when it somewhat hit me. “The night we were in the junkyard because we were baiting Dart?”

“That night changed my life. And now I’m crawling forward.” He kissed my forehead, a smile on his face as he looked at me for a moment before walking away. “Slowly. I just wonder sometimes…”

I started walking after him, easily catching up to him as he continued, “ya’know if… some other girl had given a proper thump when we weren’t talking or hanging out.”

“When you became King Steve?” I asked. 

He sighed, sharply. “Yeah. Would things have been different? Would we be together today?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, softly with sadness lacing my voice. “I’d honestly be in jail most likely. I think you gave me a thump.” It was quiet for a moment before I said, “Sometimes I think that if we’d be meeting for the first time right now, like, a part of me… a part of me thinks we wouldn’t be where we are today. Together.”

“In love?” he asked, stopping his steps to look at me.

I looked at him, all the love and adoration for him in my eyes. “Yeah. In love.”

“You remember the dream I told you about?”

“The migraine of six lil’ nuggets, yes.”

“It’s all true. Every last word, but there’s one very important detail I left out. The most important part.”

“What’s that?” I asked, resting my hands on his chest as his hand came to rest on my cheek again.

“You’re there,” he said. He rested his forehead against mine, sighing. “You’ve always been there.”

Tears filled my eyes as I pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. We were leaning towards each other, our lips about to meet before Robin’s voice came through as she made her way toward us.

“Hey, guys!”

I sighed, then whispered, “She’s such a cockblocker.”

“You guys! Awesome news!” She stopped to catch her breath. “Looks like we weren’t going the wrong way after all.” She turned away from us, going back the way she came.

“Come on!” Nancy said.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” I breathed. Looking back up at Steve, I couldn’t help but smile. I pressed my lips against his, feeling him kiss me back immediately. When we pulled apart, I looked deep into his eyes. “We’ll finish that later.”

Turning to walk towards the direction that Robin and Nancy went, Steve grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers once again before bringing my hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to my hand. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

We made our way through the woods to the edge, making our way down a very small hill, the Upside Down version of the Creel house in front of us, demobats surrounding the top of it. I looked over to my right, seeing a small ball of light, my face lighting up with relief as I whispered, “Erica.”

~~~

We had successfully moved to the playground before I put my hand inside the ball of light, hopefully brightening up Erica’s flashlight. We got confirmation when she said, “Okay, the lovebirds have copied. Max is moving into Phase Two: Distracting Vecna.”

“I’m still not okay with it,” I said.

“We’re not even at the hardest part yet,” Steve said.

Nancy looked at the house, taking a few steps towards it before I heard her softly say, “Take the bait, you son of a bitch. Take… the bait.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling Steve’s hands on my arms, rubbing up and down. I looked at him as he whispered, “She’ll be okay.”

It seemed like forever before Erica’s voice came back through, scaring the shit out of me. “Okay, she’s in. Initiate Phase Three.”

Robin hit the button on the walkie talkie that Lucas had given her to use, saying into the mouthpiece, “She’s in. Move on to Phase Three.”

“Copy that,” Dustin said. “Initiating Phase Three.”

I heard faint guitar playing, my metal heart happy as we hid under the rocket. “Fuck yes, Munson,” I whispered as the bats flew overhead. I knew exactly what the song was, it being one of my newest favorites.

“Okay, it’s working,” Nancy said.

“Of course it’s working,” I said. “It’s freaking metal music.”

“Let’s go.”

We crawled out from under the rocket before I stopped for a moment, raising my hand in the air, index finger and pinky lifted in the rock on symbol. “Rock on, Munson.”

“Liv, come on,” Steve said.

I put my hand down, running to catch up with him and the girls to walk across the street to the Creel house. Steve opened the door and entered first, always putting himself in front of the danger. 

He pointed his flashlight down on the floor, vines slithering everywhere.

“Oh, shit,” he and I said. “That’s not good.”

He looked back at me for a second before looking back in front of him, ready to make a move. 

I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Wait. Remember when we were walking along the tracks to the old junkyard with Dustin?” He nodded his head, so I continued my explanation, smiling. “Except, I wasn’t in the middle of the tracks like you and Dusty were. I was on the metal part of the track. Balancing.”

Placing a kiss on his cheek, I looked at him and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I got this.” Looking in front of me, I picked a good spot to start at where there weren't any vines. I did this until I reached the stairs, where I did it again until I was at the landing, Steve and the girls following my exact movements. I only knew that because if they hadn’t followed my exact steps, we’d all be toast.

I saw flashing red coming from where the attic is, and I immediately saw the color in my own eyes, angry with this creature for putting our Max in harm's way. I heard rustling behind me, so I looked to see what the commotion was; Steve taking Nancy’s shortened shotgun from her bag before he took his ax from his.

Not two seconds after I turned back to face the stairs to the attic, what felt like an earthquake hit, sending me flying back into Steve, Nancy and Robin.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” I whispered as Steve tried to balance us, Nancy and Robin doing the same. Once it was over, I was breathing a little heavy, Steve’s arm around my middle, keeping me steady.

I stepped away for a minute to regain my breathing some more before I heard squelching below me. I looked down, seeing a couple of the vines wrap around my ankles. “Shit.” I was thrust backwards towards the wall, my back slamming against it. Everything else happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think about my arms being tied up by the vines. I locked eyes with Steve, yelling his name. “Nance! Robin!”

Steve was the first to jump into action, swinging and chopping at the vines that had me basically pinned to this wall, Nancy and Robin pulling and hitting the vines to try and loosen them up a little.

Steve was the next one to get strung up high on the same wall as me, him grabbing at the vine around his neck before the vines put his arms against the wall. Nancy and Robin being the last two to be strung on the wall opposite Steve and I.

I saw the vines going around Nancy and Robin’s necks, feeling them along mine as well. My eyes started to close at their own will, my oxygen almost ceasing to exist until the vines loosened on my neck, wrists, ankles and stomach. I dropped to the ground, coughing and breathing deep to revive my oxygen levels. 

Watching as the vines seemed to be called away, a hand landed on my back as I attempted to get my breathing back to normal. I looked at who was touching me, glad to see that it was Steve.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hoarsely.

“Well, considering alternate dimension vines just about killed me, I’d say I’m pretty far alright,” I said, hoarsely.

“I don’t believe in a higher power or divine intervention,” Robin said, her voice hoarse. “But that was a miracle.”

I stood up with Steve’s help, turning to face the attic door. “I do believe in higher power, so let’s not waste that miracle.” Stepping in front of the group, my eyes never faltered from the attic door. “Let’s go kill that son of a bitch and send his fucking ass back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Nancy cocked her shotgun before Steve breathed out, “Phase Four.”

“Flambé,” Robin said.

I lead the group up the stairs to the attic, anger filling me at the sight of Vecna being strung up by vines with his arms out and palms up. I breathed out an angry breath before I whispered, “There’s that ugly son of bitch.”

Nancy, Steve, myself and Robin stood in front of Vecna, looking at him for a moment. I looked up at Steve, and he at me before we both looked at Robin, ready to flambé this son of a bitch.

Steve put his bottle in front of me after I took a small step back so as to not be in the literal line of fire. After Robin had lit the cloth up, I put my hand on Steve’s upper arm, his eyes looking into mine as I whispered, “Don’t miss.” “I won’t,” he whispered back. He and I, as well as Robin, looked back at Vecna before I stepped closer to Robin right before Steve brough his arm back to toss the homemade molotov at this monster in front of us, the glass bottle flying through the air. 

The bottle hit Vecna, sending him into flames, the heat causing me to cower back a little, eyes closed. The vines burned off his back, sending him to the ground. 

Robin lit her cocktail before hurling it at him, the four of us cowering just a little from the new heat it emitted. Nancy took that as go time as she started to shoot at Vecna, each hit of her bullets sending him backwards. He turned around and yelled at us, Nancy sending one more shot at the creature, sending him flying backwards out of the window and down to ground below.

I wanted to see this ugly bastard dead for myself, so I turned tail and ran straight out of the house, Robin, Nancy and Steve all three following behind me. Once we made it outside, anger filled me again as the spot where I knew Vecna landed… was empty with the exception of a few little spots of fire.

“What the fuck?” I breathed. I looked at all three of them, breathing heavily. “The cocktails and bullets should’ve killed him. Where the hell did he go?”

I got my answer in the form of the clock inside starting its chiming. “Fuck,” I whispered, turning around and going back into the house. My emotions were on high alert as I counted each chime. “One. Two. Three. Four.” As the fourth one faded out, tears were gathering in my eyes as I realized what that meant. “Max.”

To say I was upset would be an understatement. The earthquake-like rumble hit again, Steve’s arm going back around my waist to keep me steady as my hands went to Nancy’s arms to keep her steady as we all stumbled towards the post of the staircase.

Once that was done and over with, I pushed off Steve and made my way outside, tears streaming down my face. 

“Liv,” Steve said. “Babe, wait!”

“No!” I screamed, turning back to face him. “I told you that letting her be the bait was a horrible idea, and did any of you listen? No!” I walked up to him, hitting his chest as I said, “You all let her be the bait and now she’s dead!”

He grabbed my wrists before wrapping his arms around me tightly, trapping my arms between the two of us as I continued my sobs, “She’s dead. Max is dead!”

~~~

Once we had made our way back to Eddie’s trailer, I saw Dustin sitting on the ground with Eddie’s body, our eyes connecting as my brother yelled out my name. I quickly ran over to him, seeing blood coming from Eddie’s mouth.

He looked up at me, smiling a little. “Hey, female Henderson.”

“Liv, the bats,” Dustin breathed.

Looking from Dustin back to Eddie, I said, “You’re not fucking dying, Munson. Do you hear me?” I looked at Steve and the girls, saying, “Come over here and help me pick him up.”

“How are we gonna get him through the Gate?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll figure it out.”

Steve, Robin and Nancy were at my side in a second when Dustin tried standing up, a pained cry coming from his mouth. They somehow managed to get Eddie up on his feet while I helped Dustin up.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Fell on the floor coming back through the Gate to get to Eddie,” Dustin said. “I was in our Hawkins when I climbed back through.”

“Damn it, Dustin,” I breathed. By the grace of God, I got him inside and up the sheets. I hadn’t realized that Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie were all in our Hawkins until I heard my name being called from Eddie’s room.

Walking in his room, I saw the amount of pain he was in, just like Steve was. Quickly jumping into action, I searched the trailer for antiseptic wipes, gauze and tape. As Eddie grunted in pain, I decided to distract him a little bit.

“That was a pretty metal concert you put on in there,” I said.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Oh, hell yeah! Master of Puppets by Metallica? Pretty fucking metal.”

Eddie and I talked about metal music the entire time I worked on dressing his wounds. Looking at his neck as I went to clean it up a bit, I lightly chuckled. “You and Steve are gonna be wound twins.”

He was confused for a moment before he, too, lightly chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Ya’know, he’s not a bad guy. Steve. He’s not so bad.”

“But wasn’t he, like, a dick to you?”

I shrugged. “Came with his newfound popularity. I got used to it. Once all this shit started happening when Will went missing, we kind of… I don’t know, I guess we found each other again.”

“All of this has happened before with the alternate dimension?” 

“The Upside Down? Yeah.” I proceeded to tell Eddie everything from the Demogorgon in ‘83, the Mind Flayer possessing Will, as well as Dart in ‘84, the Russians and the Mind Flayer again last year in ‘85, and now this whole thing with Vecna.

He was quiet for a while, everything processing. Once everything was processed, he nodded his head with a slight smile on his face. “Right on.” The smile slowly diminished once he realized the severity of it all.

Since Eddie couldn’t stay at his trailer because of the manhunt still going on for him, we had to find a safe place for him to stay. I guess that place ended up being mine and Dustin’s house.

Eddie, Steve, myself and Dustin walked into the house, Mom freaking out because of Eddie.

“Mama!”I said, following her to the phone. I placed it back on its hook once I took it from her hand. “Mama, listen to me. He’s not a murderer. He didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“Then what happened, Livvie?” Mom asked.

“I can’t tell you, but just know that he didn’t do it, okay? I promise.”

Mom and I looked at each other, her eyes coming to an understanding. She nodded at me before looking at Eddie. “Since Livvie’s gonna be staying with Steve at his house tonight, you can take her room.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Henderson,�� Eddie said.

“Please,” she said, walking up to him to cup his cheeks in that motherly way. “Call me Claudia… or Mom.”

I could see the tears start to form in his eyes as he nodded his head. He looked at me before I gestured with my head for him to follow me. I led him into my room, letting him take it all in.

“Now, Dustin’s room is across the hall if you’d rather sleep in there on his bed,” I said. “He can take the floor. Uhm… don’t touch my landline, don’t open my drawer, but everything else is fair game.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, smiling a little before he said, “Livvie.”

“If you weren’t demobat chow, I’d punch you in the gut.”

He chuckled before closing his eyes in pain. He sat down on my bed as I walked out of my room, going to the bathroom to retrieve our first-aid kit. 

“It’s not much,” I said, coming back into my room. “But it’ll-” I looked at him, seeing him laying on my bed, fast asleep. The corner of my mouth lifted before I set the supplies on my nightstand. Walking out of my room, I cracked my door before moving into the living room.

Dustin, Mom and Steve looked at me before I nodded. “I think he’ll be fine. He’s asleep now.” Looking at Dustin, I said, “Please keep an eye on him. Make a pallet in my room or whatever, I don’t care. You’re on Eddie watch tonight.”

He nodded as I pulled him into a hug. I kissed his forehead once we pulled apart, Mom engulfing the both of us into a family hug. When I pulled away from that hug, I went over to Steve, who was standing at the door. 

We left my house and went straight to his, where we took a joint shower, just holding each other for a moment before I carefully cleaned his own wounds from being demobat chow. We washed each other's hair like we always did before we both got out of the shower, towel drying off before putting on our pajamas and climbing into bed… after brushing our hair, of course.

As we laid there in each other's arms, a tear fell from the corner of my eye. I didn’t bother to wipe it away as I sniffled. “When is shit gonna go back to normal?” I whispered. “I want a normal life again where we don't have to worry about the world ending.”

Steve held me tighter in arms as I sobbed quietly. “I know, baby,” he whispered back. 

“Stupid fucking Vecna,” I sobbed. I didn’t know how long I cried for, or how long Steve and I slept for. It was dark when I went to sleep and it was light when I woke up. Steve was coming out of his bathroom when I sat up in his bed, yawning.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You’re awake.”

“How long did I sleep for?” I asked.

“We slept all day,” he said. “Like, over 24 hours.”

“I guess saving the world a million times over will do that to a person,” I said, stretching my arms and back out.

He let out a quick, quiet laugh before saying, “There’s a note by the phone for you.”

Scrunching my brows, I threw the covers off of me to head downstairs to see this note Steve was talking about. There wasn’t a note anywhere, but Eddie and my brother were sitting on the couch in the living room.

“What are you two doing here?” I asked.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay, female Henderson,” Eddie said.

“I’m-I’m fine,” I stuttered. “What about you, Munson? Are you okay?” He nodded his head a little. “A little sore, but I’ll be alright.”

“Mom wants you home,” Dustin said.

I nodded and went back upstairs to find Steve putting on his shoes. I let him know that I was gonna go home, and he in turn let me know that he’d be coming with me. I smiled at him and walked up to him, kissing his lips before turning to my drawers to get clothes to dress in.

Once I was dressed, Steve and I went back downstairs, seeing Eddie and Dustin already by the front door. We quickly hurried to Steve’s car, careful not to draw attention to ourselves with Eddie. Steve drove us back to mine and Dustin’s house, where we all walked in the front door, the boys sitting on the couch.

After I turned on the tv, I sat down next to Dustin, the news playing on the screen as the anchorman gave the news. “It’s been less than 48 hours since a 7.4 magnitude earthquake rocked the quaint town of Hawkins, 80 miles outside Indianapolis, in an event that seismologists are calling ‘a natural disaster of near-unprecedented scale.’ The death toll now stands at 22. But with hundreds more filling Roane County hospitals and many more still missing, officials expect those numbers to rise. This is only the latest tragedy to befall this once-safe town. Most recently, a sting of high school students were killed in a series of ritualistic murders, which have been linked to a local satanic cult known as Hellfire. Eddie Munson, the leader of this cult and prime suspect in the murders, has been missing since the earthquake and is presumed dead. But this offers little comfort to the people of Hawkins, who are scared, angry, and searching for answers. Why their town? What have they done to deserve so much suffering? A growing chorus believes the two recent tragedies are linked, claiming the Munson murders opened a doorway between worlds. A doorway, they say, into hell itself.”

Disappointment flooded my body, my head shaking at the so-called news report. “Are you guys hearing this? They’re calling it a doorway into hell. They haven’t even seen hell, much less been to it.” I sighed, turning off the tv and standing up. “Come on. We gotta get to the Wheeler’s.”

~~~

We ended up leaving Eddie at our house where he could get some more rest before Steve drove to pick up Robin. She placed a box in the trunk before she got in the backseat with Dustin, Steve driving to the Wheeler’s as she got settled.

Once we got to the Wheeler’s, Steve opened his trunk, an empty box being placed on the edge of it before another box was placed by the back driver’s seat. 

“Hey, Nance,” Mrs. Wheeler said. “I found some more of your old stuff in the attic.” Nancy walked over to her mother, picking up a toy rabbit for a moment before she placed him back down, grabbing the box from her mother.

A vehicle approaching had gained Mrs. Wheeler’s attention as she asked, “Someone order a pizza?”

“Pizza?” Dustin and I asked. I was so hungry. I turned my head as the horn started to blare, a pale yellow pizza van with a red surfboard attached to the top of it coming into view. “Surfer Boy Pizza?” I asked. “What–”

Mike, Will, Jonathan, El and their friend Argyle piled out of the van, my heart skipping beats and pounding at seeing El. Mike ran to Mrs. Wheeler, calling her name as Nancy and Jonathan ran to each other, the four of them hugging each other, respectfully.

“Olivia!” Eleven called. I smiled bigger than I ever smiled in my life upon seeing her running towards me. I hugged her tight, a few happy tears streaming down my face. When we pulled back, I cupped her cheeks, looking at her. Once I saw her hair, I’m sure the look on my face was more than just shock. “You… you cut your hair?”

She shook her head no. “Papa.”

I looked at her, confused, but she elaborated with, “He’s gone now. Dead.”

Sighing, I touched the top of her head. “Oh, well. It’ll grow back.”

We smiled at each other before she saw Dustin, running to give him a hug. I saw Will next, shocked at how much he grew. “You’re taller than me now.”

“Liv, everyone’s taller than you,” Will said, a big smile on his face.

“Come here,” I said, pulling him into a hug. I looked him over after we pulled apart, stopping at his hair. “Joyce really needs to quit with the bowl cut. That was so ‘81.”

Will laughed at that, pulling me into another hug before asking, “Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s at the hospital,” Dustin said, him and El coming up to stand next to me. I looked back at Steve and Robin, seeing him looking a little sad. 

I walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. When we pulled apart, we placed our foreheads together, breathing each other in. “I’ll kiss you stupid tonight.”

“Among other things?” he asked, smugly.

“Gross,” Robin whispered. 

~~~

Jonathan and Nancy took El, Mike and Will to the hospital to see Lucas, Erica and Max while Dustin, Robin, Steve and I went to the high school to donate some stuff. It was turned into a temporary shelter for those that lost their belongings during the “earthquake.”

The four of us went to the trunk of the car to retrieve the boxes that were in there. Steve looked like he was struggling a little bit, so I took the box from him so that he could close the trunk. He took the box back, chastely kissing me before grabbing my hand, lacing our fingers together as we walked into the gym.

I felt so bad seeing all these people on oxygen and I.V.s as we made our way to the donation table. I really felt the need to help out. Robin, Steve and Dustin set their boxes down as Robin told the volunteer hello.

“Uh, these are blankets and sheets,” Robin said, pointing to each box accordingly. “And some-some clothes, and-and some kids toys.”

“Wow,” the volunteer said. “It’s already so organized. We appreciate that. Do you want a tax receipt for it?”

“Uhm, actually,” I said. “We’d like to help with anything if you need it.”

She looked at me and smiled, telling us which stations to go to. Steve and I were folding and sorting clothes, Robin at the food station, and Dustin walked around, helping to hand out cups of water.

Steve and I were in the middle of folding shirts when we both looked up at Robin and Vickie talking. I looked at her like a proud parent. “At least she isn’t rambling about anything.” “Which one?” Steve laughed.

“Good point,” I chuckled, going back to my folding.

It started getting dark outside, so I just thought it was a normal rainstorm heading this way, but I was wrong once I started to see white flakes floating down. I looked at Steve, worry in my eyes as I watched him look out the window, too. He and I walked towards the windows, as well as Robin and Vickie. 

It looked like the Upside Down was coming to Hawkins… as well as another fight for our lives against Vecna.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: i just wanted to say a quick thank you to my readers on this series for being incredibly patient with me these last few weeks. i've been under a lot of stress, and i think it all just came to a head when my kids were a couple days out from spending time with my dad. my anxiety and depression took a hit because of it. i'm sorry everything is coming out late. it was not my intention. thank you sticking around. it means more to me than you truly realize.

~~~

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~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

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Posted on June 26, 2024 *Happy Pride Month to those who celebrate!*

[baileys-writing-desk]

Reunion

Ten years after the events of LU, the Thunder Dragon is met with his beloved Hylian friend one more time.

AO3

Reunion

In the decade since Link returned from his second adventure, the Thunder Dragon has made an effort to connect with the Hylians on the Surface. He visits newly built neighborhoods occasionally, dropping Rupees into the fields and singing for farmers to keep them entertained as they work. After so many years spent in near-isolation, it is relieving to become more involved in the bustle of others’ everyday lives.

And so, he doesn’t think much of it when a Hylian bursts into his clearing, gazing up at him in astonishment. Rather, what makes him pause is the newness of this person. A man approaching middle age, with pale skin, curly brown hair, and dressed in a simple chestnut tunic and trousers.

He doesn’t remember seeing this man anywhere, on Skyloft or the Surface…

“Lanayru!”

His eyes widen in surprise. “How did you know my name?”

“You’re here!” the man continues, ignoring the dragon’s question. “It’s really you, I can’t believe it!” He sprints across the clearing to get closer to Lanayru. “Oh…I missed you so much!!”

“Woah, woah, slow down. Do I know you?”

He certainly knows me.

And the man does look slightly familiar…

“Don’t say you don’t remember me!” He slows to a stop, gazing up at Lanayru with hazel eyes. “Here, maybe this will ring a bell? My name is Link.”

“Really? Hmm…how interesting, I’m afraid I don’t know another Li–”

He gasps.

The fluffy brown hair, the unmistakable eyes and composure of a hero, the sweet smile that has persisted with age…

It’s him.

A name escapes Lanayru’s mouth, one he hasn’t uttered in so many years.

“...Rulie??”

The man nods.

Holy fucking shit!!

“Yes, I’m the Hero of Hyrule. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me, old man!”

“Wha–? Why–how did you–?” In a frenzy, Lanayru stumbles over his words. “How–are you here?”

Rulie chuckles. “Portal.”

The Thunder Dragon frowns. The only portals he knows of, besides the Gate of Time, are the dark magic ones the Shadow created…

“But…your quest is over. Has another one started?”

“No, quite the opposite. This one wasn’t dark magic at all, it was white and gold. I felt calm as I walked through. And it just led me straight here. I think that…the Goddesses wanted us to meet again.”

Lanayru’s heart races in his chest. This is a dream. It has to be a dream, right? Because Rulie is standing right in front of him. The one who left forever a decade ago. If not a dream, an absolute miracle.

“Well, they waited an awfully long time!” he exclaims. Why? Why not earlier…? “You have more wisdom in your eyes, boy. May I ask, how old are you now?”

“I’m thirty.”

The old dragon raises an eyebrow. Rulie was twenty when he left.

“Ah, I see.” Lanayru replies, nodding his head. “It’s been ten years for me, too. You know…I still think about you after all this time, I am beyond relieved to know you are alive and well. You have no idea how happy this makes me–”

“Oh, I do. I can see it in your face.” Hyrule grins, in exactly the same way he used to do, the only difference being the slight marks around his features from aging. “And you’re really lighting up!”

The Thunder Dragon briefly glances down, watching the line of blue light travel from his tail up to his chest. Faster and brighter than usual, for sure. The sparks of electricity from his horns are most likely a bit more frequent too. Changes that are seen as subtle by most others, but Rulie…he remembers.

He lets out a hearty laugh as he turns back to the hero. “I guess I am, boy.” Hmm… should he still be calling Rulie ‘boy’? “Here, if you don’t mind…can I–”

The hero responds right as he begins to lower his hand.

“You don’t need to ask for that one. Just grab me!”

“…Oh?”

Many Hylians are wary of touching Lanayru, due to the electricity he emits, even though the only real way to be harmed is to touch his horns. Nobody just lets him pick them up like this.

Except for Rulie.

It’s more proof that this man is indeed Hyrule, and not some Surface man who looks just like him, pretending to be the hero in some awful prank.

“Go on, old man, what are you waiting for?”

The old dragon gently wraps his fingers around Rulie’s body and lifts his hand up toward his face, placing the man into the palm of his other hand. “Alright, lemme take a look at you…”

With one finger he strokes through the wild mess of hair, smoothing it down, just like he used to do. The hero sits down in his palm and runs a hand along the soft but scaly texture.

“My friend, you…you’re really here,” Lanayru breathes out.

His eyes fill with tears.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Rulie chuckles. “So…how are you?? How’s Faron and Eldin? And Link! Is he okay?”

“Yes, they’re all good. I just helped Link and Zelda welcome their second child. And Faron—well, she’s a bratty little thing as usual…” He pauses to let out a sniffle. “I’m still causing mischief around here. Eldin once said I’m ‘stubborn and wily’.”

“He’s not wrong. All three of you, total brats.” The hero is clearly teasing, and Lanayru smiles behind his fluffy beard. “Ah, I had a feeling Sky would become a dad. He’s a good one, I’m sure. Can we see him?”

“I’ll take you soon, yes.” Lanayru replies. “Anywhere you want to go, boy. Just not to…Lake Floria—“

Before he knows it, a single tear runs down his cheek. Oh, sweet Hylia.

“Lanayru? Are you…crying?”

“No,” he shoots back, wiping his face quickly. He hasn’t cried since….well, since Rulie left.

“Nuh-uh. I can see it.” Rulie grins. “Stubborn little shit.”

…Fuck.

“Fine, you got me…” He lets out a sigh. “I just—I never thought I would actually see you again.”

Another tear comes, but he doesn’t try to hide it this time. He carefully moves his hand up to his beard, and Rulie leans up against the cloud-like fluff.

“…A true blessing, I believe,” the hero replies. “Maybe I’ll get to see all my brothers again too…that would be amazing. Oh, Wind’s probably changed so much!”

“I bet he has.” Lanayru doesn’t elaborate; he barely remembers who this ‘Wind’ person was. Instead he focuses on Rulie, who is scanning the clearing from his perch. The traveler gasps.

“Is that…” Rulie points down toward their left, at the small four-poster bed. The one that had been his back then. “…is that my bed? Did you keep it??”

“Surprisingly, yes.” Lanayru sniffles, trying to regain his composure. “I nearly destroyed it after you left, but…something inside told me not to. It’s my reminder of you, boy.”

“Aw, Lanayru! I’m honored. Although…it looks like someone else has it now, huh?”

The Thunder Dragon takes a closer look at the bed. Sure enough, one of his LD-301 robots is lying there, snuggled in the pillow and blanket.

He giggles, nearly snorting from the tears. “Ah yes, my little friends have taken quite a liking for it.”

It is difficult to tell from this distance, but Lanayru can just make out the features of LD-301S Scrapper. The one Link had frustratingly handed back to him after the first adventure, tired of the small creature’s rude insults. And the one whom the dragon jokingly calls ‘Scrapper the Napper’ now.

Rulie strokes Lanayru’s beard with his hands, grinning. “I remember those little guys. Do you…think they’ll remember me too?”

“Well, maybe. LD-301’s have limited capacity for memories like that. But a few might recognize your name. I was able to teach them ‘Rulie.’ Of course…now they’ve just been calling each other Rulie. So I don’t think they really get it.”

“Awww! Little rascals!” the traveler exclaims. “Wow…I really missed them. I missed all of this! You especially, old man…and all my brothers, my family. It was kinda nice, having a family.”

Lanayru touches Rulie’s hair with a finger again, keeping the hero secure in his other palm. The poor man had been through far too much, at far too young. He deserved to have a real childhood, a chance at a happy life from the start.

“Rulie…you deserve so much better, you know that right? It made our farewell a thousand times more difficult. Because your life has not been easy. And I had to let you go right back to a world that is so cruel to you.” Another tear trickles down his face as he speaks.

The hero doesn’t answer right away, just stares out into the expansion of forest ahead of them.

“I’ve managed,” he replies eventually. “Zelda’s helped me a lot. And remembering you all too…I’ve been using what you and my brothers have taught me.”

Lanayru raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like…different sword fighting skills, self-defense, how to swear at people who fucking piss me off…”

“Ahh, Rulie.” He cackles at the hero’s foul language. “I suppose I was a bad influence on you after all.”

“Nah, that was mostly from Legend. My predecessor.” The traveler pauses to take a breath. “But really, I gained confidence in myself. I’ve kicked some ass out there, old man, you would be impressed.”

“I bet you have.” The old dragon heaves a sigh, remembering the last time he gazed into Rulie’s eyes, and utters the words he has always longed to say. “…I’m so proud of you, boy. You know that, right?”

Hyrule slowly nods, lifting himself out from Lanayru’s beard and looking up at him.

“…Yeah.”

“When we last saw each other, I didn’t get to say that to you one more time. I didn’t tell you how incredible you are and how much you’d grown…even since we first met. And I felt an overwhelming shame.”

“Oh, Lanayru…”

“It’s true. You are a skilled warrior, a loyal friend, you’re truly a gift, Rulie.” He blinks through still-watery eyes and gives the traveler a soft smile. “I hope I made that clear enough ten years ago, and if I didn’t, my sincerest apologies.”

There. You did it.

For a moment, he can almost see Rulie in his green hero’s tunic, sword on his back and a fierce but playful glimmer in his eyes, twenty again. Their last meeting. And if Lanayru had known for sure it was the last one, he would have given a proper farewell.

But when the traveler walked through the dark magic portal, the dragon’s heart ached from bittersweet memories and words left unsaid.

“Don’t be sorry, old man.” Hyrule replies, bringing the dragon out of his thoughts. “I’ve always known how proud you are. You did more than enough.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course you silly goose, I’m sure! What, you think I’m lying?”

Lanayru chuckles, another tear running down his face. “No…you’re right. I trust you.”

Rulie sighs in what seems to be relief, briefly turning to glance at the clearing’s entrance. And the Thunder Dragon remembers: he needs to take the hero to Link and Zelda, to their two children, and to Skyloft…there is so much to catch up on.

“Good, I’m glad that hasn’t changed.” Hyrule smiles playfully, booping Lanayru’s beard with his finger. It seems his childhood mannerisms have not quite left with age. “Because I’m not leaving your side until I have to go back!”

The dragon wipes his eyes gently, attempting to collect himself before his flight. He doesn’t want to show up at Link’s house looking like this, after all.

“Sounds like a good plan,” he tells the hero.

And somewhere up in the heavens, a Goddess smiles.

[hellcheersource]

Fic collection

I'm sure we all love getting to see our girl Chrissy finding her independence and ditching Jason for a *significant* upgrade. If there happens to be a little bit of an overlap? Well that's just between friends. So here's a little collection of fics where Chrissy has her cake and eats it - cheating on Jason with Eddie. Because who wouldn't?!

Getaway Car by @bumblehumblebeee

Chrissy Cunningham is pregnant.

Which is a problem considering she's got an (asshole) boyfriend who believes she's a virgin saving herself for marriage.

All of Chrissy's carefully laid plans to leave Hawkin's with Eddie after graduation comes crashing down when the liquid in that tube turns pink and their carefully concealed relationship?

Well, it's hardly an immaculate conception...

She said to me, forget what you thought by @majicmarker

Dangerous game, flirting with Jason Carver’s girlfriend. Max might be impressed, except that she thinks it’s actually exceptionally fucking stupid.

But… Well. Chrissy looks really happy, bright smile and big laugh, and if it’s Eddie’s puppy dog heart eyes behind that? So be it.

It’s really none of Max’s business.

*Most of this is told from Max's POV, which is super cute and original and I love it*

Dirtbag by Betts

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, looking away like she’s shy, like he hasn’t dicked her down in every way imaginable a thousand times. “We haven’t seen each other in a year. Don’t you want to get caught up before we start?”

Is that how she sees the obligatory pre-fuck small talk? Getting caught up?

“Health, good. D&D, good. Band, good. That’s all I’ve got.”

“You’re telling me nothing interesting has happened all year?”

“I’m thirty. Nothing interesting happens ever.”

Or: For fourteen miserable years, Eddie has been the other man. But by 1998, he can no longer pretend it’s just a sex thing.

I’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you by @adelaideelaine

The seniors at Hawkins have to take dance as part of their phys ed class. Turns out being a musician comes with a certain sense of rhythm that ends up having Eddie paired up with Chrissy.

One, I'm biting my tongue Two, he's kissing on you Three, oh, why can't you see? One, two, three, four...

Spirit Stick by @gingertumericlemon

Somebody stole the Hawkins High Spirit Stick, and nobody thinks Chrissy Cunningham can get it back.

Except Eddie!

Author note is: Can you imagine how embarrassing it is for me to have written 14 pages inspired principally by Kirsten Dunst's reading of the line "I AM only cheerleading" in BRING IT ON

*Personally I think the author is genius for turning that one line into this gorgeousness that does not go where you expect it too AND has a kick ass female OC*

Scotty Doesn't Know by @hellfireheathen

“You two were practically drooling over each other.” Jeff agreed, playfully shoving Eddie with his hand. “Just don’t get our asses kicked if you do decide to hook up.” And just like that… maybe Eddie wasn’t entirely delusional, after all.

*you know the song... you can guess the plot. We love these two idiots*

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

Outtake: Disbelief

A section that didn't fit in the second part of my Inklings Challenge story, but the plot hole needed explaining. Specific thanks to @queer-as-used-by-tolkien for suggesting the concept that I turned into being tideblessed.

Paula had been around thirteen houses, some of whom were preparing and some of whom weren’t, and at the thirteenth she finally asked the important question. “Why don’t you think Big Tide will happen like they say? Surely it’s… well, pretty obvious?”

As she had half expected, the answer was a scoff.

“I want to understand,” Paula said carefully, and looked earnestly at the person she was disagreeing with. James was thirty years old, conventionally handsome and, for some reason nobody could divine, perpetually single. Maybe it was his own choice, for he certainly seemed well adjusted and content with it.

He looked at her with an air of faint annoyance. “God wouldn’t allow it. It could kill people, if it were true.”

“That’s no argument,” retorted Paula spiritedly, and saw his mouth twitch. “Natural disasters happen.”

“Even if these things have happened in the past, why would they be a regular occurrence? Let’s assume there has been a flood every fifty years or so. This close to the sea, with the layout of the land as it is, is anyone really surprised? Why would it be connected to the moons?”

She blinked. “Why… wouldn’t it? James, why do you think it isn’t how people say?”

“I don’t want to swallow the propaganda they push on us. People are building their lives around this Tide. Our houses are built to withstand it. Society is focused on it. That seems suspect to me. It’s only once every fifty years or so, if we pretend it exists.”

“Forty-seven,” she corrected archly. He smiled briefly.

“What are they getting from it?” he continued, impassioned. “The elders,” in answer to her unspoken question, “or the people who build houses. If it was the case, why would we build in a place that would be affected by it?”

“You know perfectly well why we’re here. They kicked us out of the city and we had to find somewhere.”

“That was our great-grandparents. Your great-great-grandparents.”

It drew a laugh from her. “One, I’m not that much younger than you, and two, my parents are older than yours.”

James brushed away the distraction. “I just think our focus on it is suspicious. I think it takes our focus away from God, because we’re thinking about this thing that supposedly is caused by the two moons, which is a perfectly normal thing to have. I know the tides are different depending on which moon is causing them, and that they work together. But why would their alignment mean suddenly terrible floods? They’re not that strong.”

“In my understanding, that’s just how it is,” she replied evenly. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’ve never experienced one myself, but I have no reason to doubt the people I love.”

“Some of the people you love are saying exactly what I’m saying,” said James, and seemed sad. “But let’s assume you’re right and this projected disaster is to do with the tides. I’m tideblessed. I was ten years old when the tide was silent.” He paused, as if hesitating to explain. “If you’re ten or fifteen years old, anywhere in that window, when the tide is silent, it’s your kinfolk. The tide loves you and will never hurt you. It—it sounds crazy, I know,” he said, with a conscious smile. “I just can’t believe the tide would come this far inland, and cause such destruction. Maybe a flood, at similar times, so people think they’re linked. But we—we know the tide. The moons and the tides are our friends, we who are tideblessed. It is God’s gift to us.”

Somewhat frustrated, Paula said, “Why didn’t you tell me? Any of you? All these people refusing to prepare for the possibility, pretending you just don’t think it exists.”

“You’re going to think we’re crazy,” he said logically. “But I know we’re not. And anyway, there are all sorts of different reasons for not believing in your Big Tide.” James laughed, as if relieved to have it out in the open. “They may not make sense to you—and sometimes it’s easier to be seen as a conspiracy theorist than have people continually think you’re deluded because of the time of the moons you happen to be born at. Of course we don’t have many historical records of us, the tideblessed; the rest of you don’t want to admit that the timing of our birth makes us special. The last time someone tried being honest with someone, they called us moonsick.” James looked away for a moment, then made eye contact again. “You’re not going to hate us, are you, Paula?”

She blinked. “Not at all—and I am sorry that some people do.” There was grave sincerity in her tone, and he smiled in response. “Is everyone who denies Big Tide tideblessed?”

His smile widened as she used the term. “Not at all—but there are more of us than you might think, either those who are themselves tideblessed, or who have taken someone else under their protection. The tide is our friend; it will not harm our friends, as well as ourselves. We are safe.”

Paula looked at the sun and determined it was time to be on her way. Something made her say suddenly, “What about the tideblessed people who have been through Big Tide before? What do they tell you of?”

He was silent for a moment, looking past her. “They tell us nothing,” he said in a voice heavy with grief. “They are as silent as the tides when I was ten years old.”

[goodlucktai]

always darkest before the dawn

rise of the tmnt x tmnt 2k3 word count: 4k title borrowed from the tornado by owl city post-movie

part two of this prompt

read on ao3

x

Raph’s not a crier.

When he was younger he might have said it was because he was too tough to cry, a New Yorker to his core. In his thirties he can admit, at least to himself, that it has nothing to do with being a tough guy, and everything to do with being extremely self-conscious in just about every avenue of his life, but especially about feeling things out loud where anyone might see it.

Blue’s Raph doesn’t have the same problem.

He’s huge, his shell and shoulders covered in dangerous-looking spikes, a big tail that puts Raphael in mind of Leatherhead dragging across the floor behind him. By looks alone this kid is the definition of a tough guy—and he’s weeping openly, tugging Blue into an embrace just shy of crushing.

“Hey, big guy,” Little Blue whispers, shaking hands fumbling for a solid hold on his brother’s shell. His fingers skate across the big hole carved through the top of Big Red’s carapace. He reaches up to touch the bandage packed over Red’s right eye. That’s about when his expression crumples and his own eyes fill with tears. “I’m so—Raph, I’m so—”

“Don’t,” Red rumbles, burying his face in the top of Blue’s head.

“It was all my fault,” he insists, breath hitching like he’s just a few seconds from bawling. “I’m so sorry, Raphie.”

“God, Leo, don’t. You don’t have to—” Red grits his teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He looks like he’s remembering something that makes him sick to his stomach. One of his hands finds the nape of Blue’s neck, thumb brushing carefully over the grisly bruises there. “You don’t have to apologize anymore, okay? I don’t want to hear it. Everything’s alright now. Nobody’s mad at you.”

“I’m mad at you,” Purple interjects immediately.

“Donald,” Orange says at length, which seems to be enough to shut him up point-blank.

Blue’s next sob sounds more like a laugh.

Red only loosens his tight hug for as long as it takes for Purple and Orange to shove their way in, and then he has all three of them squeezed against his battered plastron like there’s a very real possibility he’ll never let them go.

They’re all clearly hurting, clinging to each other in a way that Raph recognizes, even if he wishes he didn’t. How many close calls has he lived through? How many nights has he kept a frightened vigil in the infirmary, counting a wounded sibling’s breaths, refusing to sleep just in case he woke up in a world he didn’t recognize?

The kids huddled on the floor look like it would take a small apocalypse to wrench them away from each other, and even then, they wouldn’t make it easy.

“You scared me, Lee,” Orange says thickly. His tone wavers between desperate relief and actual heartbreak, face screwed up as if he can’t decide how he wants to look at his prodigal brother. He curls his hands into fists around the strap that stretches across Blue’s plastron. “I thought you were—I don’t know what I’d do if…. Never ever ever do anything like that ever ever again.”

“If you do, I will make you wish you’d never been born,” Purple hisses. “There’s nowhere in the universe you would be able to hide from me, you scheming, self-sacrificial idiot.”

It’s definitely a threat, and it definitely sounds genuine. If it weren’t for the way Purple’s snout is tucked firmly into the crook of Blue’s neck and shoulder, the two of them pieced together like a familiar puzzle, Raphael might have been worried.

There’s also the fact that Blue looks absurdly reassured, like all’s right with the world again now that Purple is here to menace him.

These guys are weird, he thinks.

“These guys are adorable,” Mikey coos a millisecond later. That tracks—Mikey’s weird, too. He pitches his voice a little louder, his friendly tone effortlessly disarming. “Hey, kiddos. I’m absolutely a believer in group hugs, please don’t get it twisted. But there are comfier places to cuddle than the floor.”

“And it looks like some of you might need rebandaging,” Donnie adds gently. “I’m happy to help with that, if you like.”

Raph watches as their alternate selves seem to remember where they are in real time. The new arrivals scramble, each of them trying to shove Little Blue behind them protectively and only succeeding in jostling him around like a snowglobe.

He looks dizzy and tired and he’s probably sore as all hell, and his bloodied eye hurts Raph to look at, but he’s laughing breathlessly, trying to worm free. Red makes a deep rumbly noise in his chest that shuts all escape attempts down. His little brothers respond with clicks or chirps, like it’s second nature—first nature? Whatever, like it’s normal for them.

“Take a chill pill, mis hermanos,” Blue says, perpetually unruffled despite the tear tracks on his bruised face and the manhandling. “These guys are cool. They made me an omelet.”

The defensiveness goes out of Orange and Red right away—whether at Blue’s reassurance itself or just the certainty in his tone, Raph has no clue. Purple, who looks like he was born to harbor grudges with every fiber of his being, scoffs loudly and doesn’t let his guard down an inch.

A huff of laughter beside him makes Raph turn his head to find Leonardo smiling at their visitors ruefully.

“It almost sounds like it’s more meaningful to him that we fed him, not the fact that we treated his numerous life-threatening wounds,” Leo says.

Raph remembers being fifteen. He feels his mouth twitch toward a grin of his own. “It probably is.”

The mention of breakfast causes Mikey to loudly mention to the room at large that Blue hasn’t even touched his, which has the intended domino effect of an exodus out of the cramped infirmary and into the den.

The couch isn’t big enough to accommodate Red, something that Raph notes with a pang. The kid agreeably settles on the rug instead, tail curling around his brothers as much as it’s able. Orange picks his way up to Red’s shoulder, sitting among the spikes there comfortably. Blue is bundled in Red’s lap, with Purple shoving him over none-to-gently to climb in next to him.

“Cozy,” Mikey says, hands on his hips. “But we’re back on the floor again.”

“Losing battle, Mike,” Raph butts in. “You’re familiar with those.”

“Boys,” Splinter cuts them off. They’ll never outgrow that exasperated tone, apparently. “Before we become distracted by the tasks at hand, there is one thing I would like to establish first.”

The kids all straighten when he speaks, not so much out of respect as anticipation. They look more bewildered by him than anything. But they seem ready to follow Blue’s lead as a whole, and Blue is eyeing him curiously.

“What would you like us to call you?” the elderly rat says kindly.

“Ah,” Orange says. “Yeah, we all have the same names, huh? You can just nickname us!”

“Nicknames for you and full-names for us?” Leonardo says as if it’s not the best plan he’s ever heard but he’s made do with worse.

“Full names are a mouthful,” Red replies immediately. “Since, uh, you—” He nods toward Raphael a little bashfully. “—probably go by Raph already, I guess you can call me Ellie.”

“‘Ellie’?” Mikey says in absolute glee. Raph resigns himself to the inevitable—the absolute menace masquerading as his youngest brother is gonna run that goddamn nickname into the ground for the next month. “Really?”

“It’s what these bozos used to call me when they were little,” Ellie replies with a shrug, not at all self-conscious about it. “Mike, how ‘bout you, big man?”

“Angie’s cool,” the spotted turtle pipes up readily. “Looks like we’re going with the last half of our names as a theme.”

Purple, however, adamantly refuses to let Raph and his brothers even entertain the idea of calling Blue “Nardo,” because that method of address is his intellectual property and a Genius Built trademark, whatever the hell that means. Likewise, only Blue calls Purple “Tello,” and Purple looks downright murderous at the idea of these strangers using the name.

“If any of you must speak to me, I suppose you can refer to me as Othello.”

“I thought you hated that alias ever since the whole Purple Dragons situation,” Angie says with a wrinkle in his brow beneath his mask.

“Yeah, and I hate it here, too, so it’s perfect.”

Raph doesn’t take it personally. How could he? The kids look like they’ve been through hell and back. Ellie hasn’t made any move to let his brothers out of his arms. Angie keeps clenching his fists, and then shaking them out, like a tic he’s not entirely aware of—or like whatever is under the bandages wrapped up the length of his arms is consistently hurting him. Othello seems like he’s willing to take a bite out of the next person who looks at him for a second too long but he hasn’t let go of Blue’s hand once.

“And you, little lion?” Splinter asks of the only hold-out.

Leonardo’s younger counterpart hums thoughtfully, then surprises the hell out of Raph by looking right at him, past his own brothers and Raph’s more affable siblings.

“What have you been calling me in your head this whole time?”

Put on the spot, Raph doesn’t have time to think of anything to say but the truth. So he gruffly admits, “Blue.”

Blue’s face lights up. His brothers’ expressions shift into something pleased, a little relieved. Even Othello looks slightly less like he’s about to commit a war crime at any given moment. It’s the same way Blue looked at Mikey earlier, when Mikey knew what drink he liked best; like it’s a hint of home they weren’t expecting to find here.

“Fine by me,” the red-striped turtle allows magnanimously.

Smiling, Splinter begins hobbling toward the kitchen. “Donatello, if you wouldn’t mind looking over their wounds, please? Leonardo and I will make a few more omelets for our guests.”

Donnie mumbles agreeably, heading back into the infirmary, presumably for supplies. Meanwhile, Blue lifts his plate up to Angie, balanced carefully in his casted hand. Angie happily tears the cold omelet in half with his fingers, keeping one part for himself and biting into it like a taco before passing the rest back.

“Eggs?” Blue asks, shoving it under Othello’s snout next.

“I’ll reduce you to atoms,” Othello says plainly, tapping on his phone with his free hand.

“Noted. Eggs?” Blue asks Ellie.

“Leon, if you don’t quit fooling around and eat your dang food—”

“I can’t even tell you how likely it is that I’ll puke if I put anything heavier than jello in my body for the next twelve hours,” Blue says conversationally. It draws Ellie up short, something pained leaking into his expression, and Othello bares his teeth at no one in particular. Sensing that his light-hearted remark didn’t really land the way he intended, Blue adds, “I had some strawberry milk before you got here.”

Somehow he makes it sound like his family is here picking him up from day camp. Ellie’s visible eye gets very soft, the gruff concern melting away and pure affection shining through instead.

“That’s good, kid.”

“Hey,” Angie pipes up, with a depth of care in his voice that makes him sound twice his age, “how ‘bout a fruit smoothie instead, Lee?”

“Say no more, mini-me,” Mikey jumps in, clapping his hands together. “I can blend with the best of them. Baby Blue, don’t tell me your favorite combo, I wanna guess—pineapple and banana?”

Blue blinks owlishly at him. Ellie chuckles and Angie says, “Ohmigosh, the parallels!” so Raph is assuming Mikey was right on the money, yet again. He’s gonna get a big head at this rate—a bigger head—and be impossible to live with.

Don returns at that point, shouldering his Mary Poppins bag off onto the sofa and pawing through it. “Can I see your hands?” he asks gently, offering his own to Angie.

“Oh, no, my hands are fine,” Angie says, flapping them. “They’re not cut or hurt or anything, April only wrapped them ‘cause they kept shaking and the pressure helped.” When Blue shoves far enough away from his siblings to crane around and look up at him in alarm, Angie hastens to add, “I just strained myself, that’s all! It’s like, uh, a torn muscle? In my soul? Dad made us all drink this gross mystic tea that’s s’posed to up our healing game, and he promised Pops that all my pain would go away in a few days.”

Blue stares at him for a second longer. If he’s anything like Leonardo, then he’s able to see right through any attempt at bullshitting him from like five miles away. Angie must be genuine, because after a tense moment, Blue relaxes back against Ellie’s plastron.

“Glad I missed the gross tea,” he announces.

“We saved you some,” Ellie replies shortly. He glances up, and starts at the way Donnie is waiting patiently beside them. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry! I think we’re okay, but you could look at Donnie’s shell, maybe.”

“No,” Othello says shortly.

“Dee—” Ellie begins, but Othello jerks his head sharply, and then glowers openly when Donnie settles down on the floor in front of him.

Raph’s not going to say it out loud or anything, but he’d feel better if Donatello kept his hands away from that kid. Out of biting distance, at least. Don doesn’t seem bothered by his little counterpart’s attitude in the slightest, smiling crookedly at him.

“You’re a softshell, right?” he says mildly. “Your carapace must be spiny and leathery, unlike your brothers’ armored scutes. Is that why you built the metal shell you’re wearing? For protection?”

“Eughh boy,” Angie mutters under his breath, torn between horror and a sort of morbid fascination.

Blue squeezes the hand that Othello is still holding, and Ellie’s arm around him flexes—they’re all clearly anticipating a violent reaction. Raph is taking his cues from them, his muscles tensing as he prepares himself for the act of flinging his immediate younger brother out of harm’s way.

Othello is staring at Don with unblinking gold eyes. They’re a perfect mirror of Blue’s, except there’s a gleam in Othello’s that puts Raph in mind of a deep sea creature lurking beneath an unsuspecting fishing vessel, ready at any moment to casually fuck up someone’s whole day.

“Is there a point to this line of questioning?” he asks in a dangerously blank tone.

“I just think it’s interesting,” Donnie replies, every bit as if he doesn’t sense the danger he’s in. “Yours is one of the most dangerous, aggressive species of turtle that exist in the wild, second only to snappers, but most people wouldn’t be able to tell as much just by looking at you. I’ll bet you’re underestimated pretty often.”

That earns him a blink at least. Othello’s brothers are all frozen, eyes darting back and forth between the two hyper-intelligent turtles like they’re following a tennis match.

Donnie’s smile widens. It’s warm, as always. If you didn’t know where to look, you wouldn’t be able to tell that it was sharp, too.

“I know a thing or two about that,” he admits easily, like it isn’t a painful truth to part with.

Don’s vicious little parallel self tilts his head a bit, considering him. Among the items Donnie has pulled out of his bag is the handheld sensor he modeled after the tricorder from Star Trek. Predictably, Othello’s eyes linger on it. Donnie agreeably offers it to him.

The whole thing reminds Raphael of the countless hours he’s spent with Mikey in countless dark alleys, winning feral cats over with morsels of food.  

Ellie, Angie and Blue all exhale in relief when Othello sets his phone down and takes the tricorder.

“My brothers and I are diamondback terrapins,” Don goes on. “You’d think that, by virtue of belonging to the same species, we’d have had an easier time understanding each other. But growing up, there were times I didn’t understand them at all.”

After a beat, Othello grudgingly engages him. “Human DNA complicates everything. Our genetic donor was equal parts martial arts superhero and an on-fire trainwreck of a man, so at least we come by our eccentricities honestly. But even if my dumb-dumb brothers were softshells like myself, they would still be their dumb-dumb selves, and I would still spend half my waking moments engaged in mortal combat with them at even the slightest provocation.”

“The Cain Instinct,” Angie supplies wisely.

“Indeed,” Othello agrees.

“I guess siblings are the same everywhere,” Donnie says with good humor. “That’s actually kind of a comfort.” He glances back at Othello and nonchalantly adds, “If you show me your shell, I can show you how the sensor works.”

The siren call of an unfamiliar gadget is enough. Othello finally lets go of Blue and extracts himself from Ellie’s hug to disengage his metal shell with a quiet hiss of hydraulics. He leans it against the front of the couch and hands the sensor to Donnie, turning his back to him expectantly and settling tailor-style with a white-knuckled grip on his own legs that betrays his nerves.

Blue plants his elbows on Elllie’s knee and props his chin in his hands so that he and Othello are eye-to-eye. He offers a stupidly charming smile. Othello says, “Get away from me, I’m busy.” Donnie snorts and activates the tricorder, narrating his every move.

A stunned Angie leans down to whisper at Ellie. “Dude, did you see that? Their Donatello just finessed our Dee. He made it look effortless. It took him like two minutes.”

“April is never going to believe this,” Ellie replies weakly.

“Speaking of April,” Blue asks of no one in particular, “how are we getting home?”

“Believe it or not, we jumped in face-first without an exit plan,” Othello says dryly. “We be we, et cetera, ad nauseam.”

“Um, in my defense, it’s really hard opening portals between dimensions, and I’m not even really sure how I did it the first time,” Angie says in a prickly tone. His mouth tugs into a frown, and he bites the inside of his lip, before he adds, “If I hadn’t thrown that chain around you before you disappeared, we might never have found you again, Leo.”

“In the immortal words of J Beiber, never say never,” Blue says immediately. He doesn’t lift his head or look away from the Donatellos, and Raph gets the feeling that the only thing keeping Othello from snapping at Donnie’s hands when they get too close is the knowledge that his brother is keeping an eye on things for him. “There’s nothing in this entire goddamn universe that you can’t do, Angelo, and that’s on god.”

“Jesus, Leo, language,” Ellie snaps. But Angie is smiling again, so Blue accomplished what he meant to.

Splinter, Mikey and Leo return at that point with plates of fresh food as well as reheated food from earlier, and Mike presents Blue his smoothie with a flourish. Othello is quick to scoot back around to press his carapace safely against Ellie’s side the moment Don is finished with his scan, and makes grabby hands at it to view the data for himself. Angie hops down from his perch to take his plate, beaming his thanks at Splinter.

“If I overheard you correctly, you don’t know how to get home?” Leonardo asks, passing food to Ellie with a worried line in his brow.  

This is the sort of thing that would strike absolute fear into Raph’s heart—stuck someplace he didn’t belong, without direction or an immediate next step to take—but the snapper digs into his eggs and only looks vaguely worried about his situation.

“Not really,” he says slowly. “And we may have promised Pops we wouldn’t do anything stupid, but—”

“But if he believed us, then that’s on him,” Othello says unapologetically.

“But,” Ellie stresses, “when the portal opened and we felt Leo’s ninpo on the other side, what other choice did we have? Besides, Mikey tossed them a line before we jumped in.”

Humming around the big bite of omelet he just scooped into his mouth, Angie lifts a hand and makes a grabbing motion in thin-air. Chains materialize in his grip, the same burning gold links that had held onto Blue so tightly.

The length of chain is taught, as if the other end is anchored onto something, keeping the young turtles moored to their place in the unknowable vastness of the universe. Wherever they go, they’ll be able to follow that glowing lifeline back home eventually.

Angie lets it go after a moment and it vanishes. But Raph knows it’s still there, even if they can’t see it anymore.

“We’re not alone,” Ellie explains, as if just that says all it needs to say.

Blue settles back, sipping his smoothie through the pink metal straw Mikey thoughtfully provided. None of the fear or uncertainty that he woke up with has stuck around. He’s listening to his brothers talk without hopping into the conversation anymore, and each time he blinks his eyelids get a little heavier.

God, Raph thinks, these kids could make themselves at home anywhere as long as they were there together.

It’s that, more than anything, that Raphael recognizes innately. Their different species and personalities and abilities aside, they’re the exact same breed as Raph and his family in the ways that really matter, in the heart and soul and marrow of the thing.

Plates are scraped clean, and conversation is beginning to stall, starting again in fits and then petering out again. Blue is fast asleep by the time his brothers are nodding off. Leonardo is still talking in a low, level tone, a tried and true tactic to lull stubborn little brothers to sleep that he perfected when he was ten years old. Like clockwork, Ellie shifts to lie flat on his plastron, and Angie and Othello follow him down into a comfy-looking turtle pile. Blue turns onto his side without waking to take the pressure off his cracked carapace and tucks his beak under Othello’s outstretched arm with a content sigh.

“Finally,” Mikey whispers, blue eyes soft.

Splinter picks the massive homemade blanket off the back of the sofa and unfolds it with a gentle shake. It’s a multicolored mess of mismatched squares, a gift from April nearly a decade ago when she was going through a quilting phase, and a family favorite. Over the years it’s been worn to unbelievable softness, and it has kept Raph warm through even the coldest winter nights in the underground.

It’s big enough to cover their guests entirely. One of them makes a sleepy subvocal noise that’s echoed immediately by three others, and it makes Donnie huff out a fond, amused breath from where he’s silently gathering the pieces of the tricorder that he had gamely allowed his mad scientist counterpart to dissect. Raph helps Leonardo pick up the empty plates and Mikey turns the TV on, volume so low it’s almost inaudible, so the kids won’t wake up in total darkness and silence.

They never outright said what happened to them, what they lived through that left those brutal marks on their bodies, and wrenched Blue away from his siblings, and made them afraid to go more than an arm’s length away from each other. Concern weighs heavy in Splinter’s eyes, echoed in Leonardo’s—obvious in the way Donnie and Mikey find reasons to linger in the room—and hell, Raph’s worried, too.

But for now, they’re safe to sleep and heal. Anything that might want to hurt them won’t be able to find them here. And even if it did, it’d have to go through Raph and his brothers first. That’s not much, but it’s not nothing.

In about four hours, give or take, a very pissed off young woman is going to metaphorically kick the door of Raphael’s dimension off its metaphorical hinges, rattling the entire fucking foundation of the place with the sheer force of her love and loyalty, fully ready to fight god to get her little brothers back. She’ll be backed up by a small army—as mismatched and messy as the quilt Raphael’s own sister made them once, made up of pieces that have no business belonging together that belong together anyway, effortlessly, endlessly, always.

None of them will be immediately familiar, but Raph will still know who they are. Some things really are universal.

Family, he’s learned, is one of them.